“Yeah, we will need you to carry a GPS.” Carter opens the duffle bag over my kitchen counter.
“GPS. Got it. Still, why do you need my arm for?”
I am confused.
Rage is the one who answers this time. “We will need you to report your location back to us at all times as a precautionary measure. You could get lost or worse, and for that, we are going to implant a subdermal tracker.” He dictates this as if it is something he does every day. He takes some medical instruments out and comes to me.
“Wait, what? What the hell is that, Rage?”
I can’t help it. My body reacts and puts distance between us.
But Rage quickly grabs me by my wrist and snaps, “Come here. This is the only way to implant it. It’s perfectly safe. I promise.”
“No, wait. Wait! I can’t, I won’t.” I yank my wrist free from his grip.
Rage narrows his eyes and presses his lips into a flat line, clearly not happy with me.
“Well, then you’re not going anywhere,” Carter warns.
I gasp. “Fuck that, and fuck you both. You can’t control me or what I do.” Frustrated with my current situation, I lash out.
Rage slowly approaches me again, but I don’t move. I’m trying to show some confidence.
He stands behind me, places his hands on my waist and his lips on my ear while my eyes are fixed on Carter.
“Are you sure about that?” he taunts with a husky voice. “I can tie you up, put you on my bike and take you far away from here all in less than five minutes, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent that. You want that, baby?”
“N-no,” I whisper because I can’t talk when his body is this close to mine.
“No, you don’t, so don’t forget, I’m in control here.”
The knot in my chest is so tight it makes it hard to breathe.
I can tell from where I am that Carter is ready to burst. Rage is now a lot more comfortable around me and is pushing the limits by saying stuff like that. I’m not sure if he is doing it to spite Carter or because of what happened last night.
“Fine…” I say and give him my arm.
Carter cheers “Atta girl!” next to me.
Rage primes the syringe gun, puts it against my skin and warns, “This going to sting a bit.”
The gun implants the tracker under my skin in less than a second, not even enough time to react to the feeling of being pierced by a needle.Again.
“Are you done?” I ask as he removes the gun from my wrist.
“Yep.” He puts some cotton over the area where the needle pinched me. “Hold this in place for five minutes.”
As I move my other hand to hold the cotton, I rub his skin and the rough feeling of that contact takes me back to last night. I look up and meet his dark eyes, and we remain like that for a while, until Carter coughs.
“Where did you get this from, Rage?” I’m trying to clear the air.
“From a buddy of mine from back in the day,” he explains dismissively while walking away from me.
“Overnight? You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes, overnight. I now owe him a favor now, thanks to you,” he teases.
“I didn’t ask you to do this,” I remark, but he completely ignores me as he goes to my bedroom.
