"No," Lex replied without hesitation. He didn't care if it got him beat again. He would not willingly get on the bed while that man was in the same room.
"I said get on the bed," the man snapped.
Lex took a step back. "No."
He saw the hand coming, but was too slow to avoid it. It felt like a freight train when it connected with the side of his face. The pain that lanced through Lex's cheek made him wonder if he'd broken anything.
The blows just kept coming until Lex was a whimpering mess, unable to even struggle when he was picked up and tossed on the bed. His hands were pulled up over his head, and the cold metal of handcuffs clicked closed around his wrists.
Despite how hard he tried not to make a sound, Lex cried out when his chin was gripped tightly between the man's hard fingers.
"If you ever tell me no again, I will cut your tongue out. Do you understand me, boy?"
As if to get his point across, the man squeezed Lex's face until it felt as if he was going to pull the skin right off and crush his cheekbones.
"Yes," Lex finally whispered.
"Yes what?"
Lex lips trembled as he whispered the one thing he had promised himself he'd never whisper. "Yes, master."
"Good boy."
Lex sank back against the pillows when his face was released. He turned his head away when the tears he had been fighting so hard to keep at bay slid down his cheeks. He cried out when his face was jerked back around. Something rubbery and round was shoved into his mouth, the ends tied behind his head.
"There, that should keep you quiet until I get back." The man patted Lex's abdomen then stood. "I have a meeting to attend, but when I get back, I'll bring you something. You be a good boy now."
Lex held his breath until he heard the front door close. He waited a few more minutes to make sure the man wasn't coming back then wiggled around and started searching the wrought-iron bars on the bed with his fingers.
This wasn't the first time he'd been handcuffed. After one ex-boyfriend had left him handcuffed to the bed while he went out to get a beer—Lex had fed him his head when he got back then kicked him out—he had made sure he always had a way to escape.
He let out a sigh of relief when his fingers closed over the handcuff key he'd placed on a small hook on the wall. It took a bit of maneuvering to actually get the key in the lock hole, but once he did, he was able to easily turn the key. He released one wrist then rolled over and released the other one.
Thankful he'd thought of this a long time ago, Lex replaced the key back on its hook then yanked the ball gag out of his mouth, throwing it across the room. He took a couple of minute to just breathe, too afraid if he tried to get up in a rush, he'd fall flat on his face.
Once he felt he could stand without falling, Lex stood and staggered across the room. He snagged his robe on his way out the door and pulled it on. He hurried to the front door and turned the lock then headed for the kitchen.
Lex grabbed his phone and dialed 911. While he waited for the operator, he grabbed a knife out of the knife block to use for protection if that asshole came back. Days like this made him wish he owned a gun.
"911. Police, fire, or medical?"
"Police and medical, please," Lex choked out. A fresh flood of tears slid down his swollen cheeks. "I've been attacked."
Lex's world became a whirlwind of activity that he just kind of floated through. The police arrived within minutes of his phone call to 911. The paramedics arrived mere minutes later. An officer rode with him in the ambulance and took his statement on the way to the hospital.
By the time he was rolled into the emergency room, he was ready for everything to just stop. Everything hurt, from the hair on the top of his head right down to the soles of his feet. And that hurt went deeper than just surface abrasions. Muscles and bone and things he didn't even want to think about ached just as bad.
He was poked and prodded, blood was drawn, and he was given a CAT scan and an MRI. By the time his cubicle in the emergency room cleared out, Lex was ready to call it a day. He was done. He just wanted to sleep and forget today ever happened.
"Mr. Mathis," a man in a white coat said as he walked in. "I'm Dr. Green."
"Hello." He vaguely remembered the guy. He had been the one doing the poking and prodding. "Have you seen my glasses?"
"I'm afraid not." The doctor closed the door then walked over to sit on the rolling stool. "Your blood work came back clean, so you weren't drugged."
Lex nodded. "What else?"
"You have two cracked ribs and a whole lot of bruising. Breathing is going to be pretty hard for you for the next couple of days, so try not to do anything strenuous. You also have a mild concussion."
