Sighing, I sagged and squinted my eyes closed. The prick and burn of the needle found my skin. The warm rush of the liquid into my arm was a strange feeling, but about three seconds later the drug hit me and I sank into its warm, floaty embrace. It was… fucking nice, actually.
“Heroin?” I mumbled.
“You’re familiar with it?” Xander asked, and his voice was very nice too. Sweet and nearly touchable. I wiggled my fingers.
“Not on purpose,” I mumbled and rested my head back against the pillows, closing my eyes easily. I was still angry, but there wasn’t much to be done… and maybe I actually wasn’t pissed off anymore. I licked my lips. I was too free, even chained down, to care about much.
“Won’t get hard on this,” I said, checking in with myself, and sure enough, the wood I’d had going on had taken a hike. “You probably don’t care if you want me to bottom, though.”
The blond crawled up my body to lie beside me. He held out his arm, and Xander made a clucking sound in the back of his throat that reminded me of my grandmother and had me laughing. The blond shook his head and wrinkled his upturned nose as he got shot up with the same needle Xander had used on me. I scowled. There was something wrong with that needle going from me to this young guy, something that had my heart racing a little faster, but the idea drifted away from me like a boat in a warm summer current.
“What… why?” The blond snuggled up next to me and patted my stomach, easy and breezy. “Don’t you have a curfew or something?” I asked him.
He giggled and hid his face against my chest.
Dima stood back and hugged himself, shaking his head at me as if he wanted to apologize, but he kept shooting looks at Xander. They took the clothes off the blond, too, and my stomach turned, but I wasn’t sure if it was the heroin, or the fact that I’d truly lost the ability to say no to anything happening to me.
“Why?” I asked when I could convince my tongue to move in a way I needed for words to form.
Xander slapped my face hard and my glasses went flying somewhere on the bed. I sucked in a deep breath and froze, panicking as the room became a soft Monet-painting blur. Maybe this was better, though, if something bad was coming.
“You pissed off the wrong fucking people, my friend.” He stood back, and I got the impression he thought I should know what he was talking about. “And you thought, after all that, you could get away with anonymous partying?” He laughed. “I would have been fuckin’ careful, if I were you, not letting everyone around town with a dick fuck me.”
“Care to elaborate? I’m a lawyer. I piss off three people by noon every day, four on Sundays.” I surprised myself by stringing that many words together and opened and closed my mouth a few times for the fun of it.
“Give me your best side. You’re about to be internet famous.” There was a flash from nearby that nearly blinded me and I winced. “So you can kiss all that shit goodbye,” Xander said gleefully. “The nice apartment downtown. That fancy fucking car of yours. It’s all going to be gone. Seb, get on top of him and make it look good.” Xander gave the blond’s ass a hard smack. I could tell it was him by the direction the strike landed, but I couldn’t really see much beyond that.
Seb—I supposed he was probably a Sebastian—beside me, attempted to get up but nuzzled against my side instead.
“Fucking druggie piece of shit,” Xander yelled, but Seb didn’t move. I was definitely feeling no pain, but apparently his smaller body wasn’t processing this crap as well as mine because he seemed like he was halfway to a coma. The men dressed as Doms came over, and I wanted to tell them all to go fuck themselves, but my tongue was feeling like it had fur on it now, and I kept touching it to the back of my teeth while they arranged the kid to sort of be draped over me. They argued among themselves about whether or not they should just use Dima.
“Fuck no, it has to look bad, not just kinky,” Xander snarled at the others.
“Yeah, extortion and public shaming works better that way,” I agreed, and they all stopped to look at me. “But for the record, I said no to this a lot, so… so yeah.” I couldn’t truly see the expression on their faces, but I had to assume they thought I was fantastic because that’s how I felt.
Xander said something in a low growl.
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.” Dima’s voice had climbed high-pitched, and there was the sound of a harsh, meaty slap somewhere in the background, the sort of thing I knew would hurt.
“You always fucking say that when you don’t want to do what I’m telling you to do,” someone yelled at him, and my stomach churned.
“Leave him alone.” I rattled the chains connected to my cuffs in what I hoped was a threatening fashion.
“Shh, don’t. Or they’ll hurt you,” Seb murmured sleepily and nuzzled against my side while he patted my chest. There were more flashes, and I snarled in the direction of the light. Fuck, were they really taking photos?
“I don’t fucking care about pain. Stop taking pictures.”
The sound of pounding on the front door had everyone in the room freezing, except Seb, who seemed to be asleep. At least, I fucking hoped he was asleep and not dying.
“Police. Open up.” The muffled words sparked fear in me even though I hadn’t done… any of this.
Utter chaos broke out as all four of the men scrambled toward the door at the back, and I thought I saw one of them shove Dima ahead of him, but it was mostly the pastel blur of Dima’s shorts I was able to see, not the man himself. Did he not want to go? He seemed nice. That made sense. I tried to convince my drugged brain to be useful.
“Help,” I tried, but I wasn’t yelling, I was whispering. The cops… the cops… that didn’t… seem good.
“We’re just going to leave him here?” Dima yelled. I couldn’t really see which jerk was doing it with my glasses gone and the world so fuzzy, but he was being manhandled out the back door now, the one that I thought led out to the dock. Cool, damp air ruffled through the room and raised goose bumps on my chest.
“It’s cold, he needs clothes,” I called after them. The pounding on the front door happened again.
