Joel laughed and nodded.
“Take him,” Joel said and gestured toward Nathan.
“What? Dad! Are you insane?”
“Nathan, if you don’t go with them, they will kill me. Go. I’ve been hindered by you since your mother died. You’ve cost so much. It’s your turn to help me out. Go with them, and don’t give them any trouble. If you do, they’ll come back and kill me.” Joel stood from the table and looked at me. “Shut the door on your way out,” he requested and then left the kitchen.
Nathan stood still as tears ran down his face. I hoped this would be as simple as him voluntarily walking out the door with us. When Max and I stood, Nathan looked at us. I sympathized with him because I knew what it felt like to realize that you meant nothing to your father.
“Do you take any sort of medication?” Max asked.
Nathan shook his head.
“Do you need to get anything?” Max inquired.
Nathan shook his head again.
“We’ll get you taken care of with clothing,” I promised.
I should have felt a little guilty for walking out of there with my prize…
But I didn’t.
Nate
Eighteen-years-old | June
This had to be a dream… Right? Dad couldn’t give me to Marcos Silva… Could he?
I thought maybe this was a scare tactic for my dad or something. People in the U.S. just couldn’ttakesomeone, could they? I didn’t think this could be legal, especially since I was only eighteen.
But was this really so bad? Was it so terrible to go from a shack I shared with my alcoholic dad who took his losses out on me, tothis? Even if it was just temporary, which I was pretty sure it was. It might be enough of a shock to Dad to pay Marcos what he was owed and come get me. I thought this was just a scare tactic and my dad would come up with the money.
I stood in the massive living room of Marcos’ home, trying to take all of it in. It was a massive home. It was a home, right? Or was something this large known as a compound? Probably a mansion. It was Marcos Silva after all.
I turned my attention to a young guy with an unshaven face who had just walked into the room. He wore gray sweatpants and a tight, white T-shirt.
“Diego, meet Nate. You guys will be roommates and brothers of sorts.”
“Hello,” Diego said as he stretched his hand out toward me to shake. His voice was deep, and he had some sort of accent that I couldn’t place.
“Hi,” I said and nodded. I took hold of his hand, and we shook firmly.
Marcos stood between us and put his hands on both of our shoulders and jostled us. He slid his hands across our backs and then gripped the backs of our necks, which I despised. I hated that. Dad used to grip the back of my neck and squeeze. I hated it so much, and right now I hated Marcos for doing it too. My body tensed up and my face must have shown how much I hated it because Diego cocked his head to the side. I relaxed my face so he wouldn’t see anything but a strong, steeled face. Diego glanced at Marcos’ hand and then narrowed his eyes when he started to stroke his thumb against the back of my neck.
“Diego is my main trainee. You guys will eat, sleep, and train together. So it’ll be in both of your best interests to be cordial to one another. I don’t want any trouble from either of you. Neither of you are too big for me to put over my knee.” Marcos laughed as he looked at Diego. “Isn’t that right, Diego?”
Diego’s cheeks reddened, and he quickly looked at Marcos and then the ground.
“Yes, sir.”
“Hear how he addressed me, Nate?” I looked at Marcos and nodded. “You’ll address me the same; do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“I require respect from all my trainees.”
This is all too weird.This ex-TCF fighter spanks his trainees?
