I never thought I’d see Saint have a boyfriend; his kind of kink is what I would call…intense. Others may say hard-core or even sadistic. But it’s not. Well, maybe a little, but he’s always cared for the subs he has scenes with.
Now he’s collaring not only his boyfriend, but his employee, Noah. Noah turned up out of the blue just over a year ago and all but demanded a job. He got himself a whole lot more.
I’m a big fan of physical displays; we are in a kink club after all, but I turn my head to talk to one of my brothers, Drake.
But his gaze is in the club. He frowns but continues to look. “Is that Memphis?”
I spin my head around so fast it’s like something out of a horror show, but I don’t see anyone. “Are you sure?” I look back at Drake.
“No, just got a glimpse of the guy. There was something familiar about him, that’s all.”
Should I go and look for him? I don’t bother; he left without a word, and none of us has seen or heard from him since.
My chest is burning as I try to slow my breathing down. Fear and adrenaline have kept my legs pumping, forcing me to run faster and further away for too long. With my hands braced on my knees, I bend over; I’ll tackle the stich in my side when I can breathe again. I know they’re still behind me; I can hear them. The smack talk gets louder as the three teenagers get closer to me. As I look up, my hands still on my knees, they round the corner of the building.
“There you are, faggot. Not as fast as you think you are?” It’s Ben that speaks. I hate him with a passion that burns inside me. There’s not a single thing I can do to stop him. He throws something that hits my head, and fuck, stars burst in front of me as the pain shoots through me.
“Hey, kid, are you okay?” A deep voice comes from an open door.
I spring upright and look frantically to my right, hoping his voice carries to the fuckers chasing me.
They must have heard him. “Shit! Fuck! Run!” Footsteps rush away in another direction, and I wobble as the blood on my head drops to my feet. God, don’t let me faint.
“Jesus, what happened to you? Come over here, son. Let me take a look.”
I shake my head. Again, not a good idea since the dizziness returns. I take a couple of steps back. He only needs to take a couple of strides on his incredibly long and muscly legs to reach me. When he cups my chin, I cringe and turn away. “Stay still, let me look.”
The tone of his voice strikes a chord inside me. It’s kind but determined, dominant even, and I can only acquiesce. His gentle hand holds me still as he looks over my face. I have no idea what it looks like, but I know my right eye is swollen and closing. A tear slips through the puffy skin to slide down my cheek.
“You poor thing, come on. I’m going to get you fixed up, and you can tell me how this happened.” He drops his hand as I begin to shake. Instead of letting me leave, he supports me as we walk to the door. I have no clue where I am or what I’m walking into, but it feels safer than my home.
It turns out to be a gym, the huge is room full of weight stations and machinery. Most of the equipment is being used by huge, muscled men. It smells of clean sweat, and I don’t know what to call the other smell, it’s just masculine.
After I sit on a leather bench, another couple of men come over. “Jesus, Kip, what happened to him?”
Ah, I have a name for my saviour. “Looks like the kid was being chased, but the damage had already been done.” He looks to me. “What your name, kid? How old are you?”
“Royal, and I’m sixteen.” I know that has surprised them. I look younger because I’m small and thin.
He gives me a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides, and for the first time since mum died, I feel safe. “Okay, Royal, can you tell me what happened? Who were they?”
The no bullshit voice was back. I knew I had no choice but to talk, and for once, I felt safe enough to tell the truth. “It was the son of the family I’ve been placed with. He and his friends are wankers, and this is their idea of fun.” I sniffle. My nose is running, and I can’t stop the sob as more tears build and fall. “No one gives a shit what they do to me. It wasn’t too bad before they found out; it was just pushing and shoving, some name calling.”
“Found out what?” Kip asks, and I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about it; they’ll probably be disgusted too.
“You’ve told people, his parents?” another man asks as he passes me a folded towel.
“They believe him when he says it wasn’t him. That he saw me trip and fall. My social worker doesn’t want the hassle of having to move me again and says that I must try harder to fit in with the family.”
“That shit stops now,” Kip says vehemently, and the others nod. “You’re safe from them now, and you don’t have to go back there again.”
“You can’t do that; I have to go back. My things are there. I don’t have much, but it’s all I have left of before.”
“Before what?” the man who gave me the towel asks.
“Before my mum died.” I cry again, using the towel to cover my face.
“I’ll start making the calls,” he says.
