Still hesitant, Nate reaches out to stroke Will’s cheek and that soft beard. The sense of accomplishment is sweet and addicting; Nate soaks it in like oxygen.
“Doesn’t it feel right?” he whispers. They’re far enough from other houses to likely not be seen, but even if a snoopy neighbor is peeping from their window, Nate doesn’t care.Let them see the man I tamed.“I asked, doesn’t it feel right?” He brushes his thumb against Will’s soft lips.
“Yes.”
“It was so sad to see you trying to act like you no longer needed me. We both know that the evil in you won’t get itself out.” He runs a finger over Will’s gums, where teeth and wet flesh meet. He feels like he’s high. He slips two fingers into Will’s mouth, reaching his throat.
“We’re going inside now,” Nate says, slipping his fingers in and out. “I’ll have to go hard on you; you need to remember how things work between us.”
Will nods, and Nate tells him to stand. He unlocks his front door, thinking that the first thing he’ll need to do is get Will naked. Then handcuffs? Ropes? Duct tape? Decisions, decisions.
He turns on the light and waits for Will to enter. The man seems wound up like a spring, but Nate will soon make him more relaxed with alcohol and weed.
He locks the door and turns to Will, who has taken off his jacket.Fuck, I missed those strong shoulders.“Alright now. Let’s get the party started. Clothes off.”
Will moves his hands to unbutton his flannel shirt, but Nate is struck by the look in his eyes. The submission that was there moments ago has passed, and what is burning now instead scares the living shit out of him. He moves his hand toward his holster, but he’s not fast enough.
His head explodes with a sharp pain, making him see stars and slam against the door. With his vision blurry, he feels Will pulling out the gun from his holster and the taser from the other side of his belt.
“You aren’t gonna shoot—” Pain explodes in his stomach when Will kicks him. He slumps on his knees, struggling to breathe. This isn’t like last time when they had a fight. Through the storm of pain and nausea, he hears Will walking around the house. He returns seconds later with duct tape, crouching behind Nate and tying his hands.
Nate grimaces. “You’re going down so hard for this.Ahh!” Will drags him by the hair across the floor until he’s sitting on the couch with Nate at his feet.
“Look at me.”
Nate cracks open his eyes, glaring at Will who is lookingboth furious and composed. He’s starting to fear he’s about to die in his own house. He should have known better than to trust Will’s speedy change of heart.
“Where are the photos and the recording you have of Owen?”
“In my nightstand.” He’ll get hit if he tries to play it tough. He needs to survive this so he can get revenge, and being a smartass is not the way to go about it.
“Where do you keep the copies?”
“There are no copies.” There really aren’t, but he knows Will isn’t going to believe that.
He stumbles to his side when Will slaps him.
“Where are the copies?”
“No copies! Turn this place upside down if you don’t believe me.”
And Will does. For the next ten minutes, Nate lies on the floor, still in pain, watching and hearing his belongings being tarnished. The scariest part is how in control Will acts. Even when he spreads havoc, he methodically moves from one spot to the next, careful not to miss a thing.
Once the place looks like it’s been hit by an earthquake, Will returns to sit on the couch, holding the photos and security camera tape he found in the nightstand. “Up.”
Nate grunts as he maneuvers himself back to his knees. His vision is still blurry, and there’s blood trickling from the side of his head.
“You took Owen to an undercover job,” Will says, still alarmingly calm. “You took him to buy drugs and encouraged him to use them.”
“A junkie’s a junkie, Will. He didn’t need much encouragement.” He expects another punch, but Will lets it slide, maybe because he knows Nate is telling the truth. “You think you’re going to have a happily ever after with a drug addict? I know their kind—there’s no happy ending waiting down that shitty road.”
“That’s for me to deal with. For me and him.” Will leans down and holds Nate’s chin. His green eyes fill Nate’s blurry vision. “You didn’t tell Sheryl, Nate. You didn’t tell her about the undercover work, about making Owen take drugs, and about threatening to send him to prison.”
Nate’s lungs tighten. Dealing with Sheryl has been the only variable he was truly scared of, the thing he had no control over. “The sheriff wanted me to take Owen to buy drugs. It’s not for me to call the shots.”
Will narrows his eyes. “Is that so? So it was Mitch who told Owen he should take drugs? Who got him on record so he could blackmail him? Mitch knew about all of that?”
Nate doesn’t answer. His heart drums in his ears, sweat underneath his clothes. But Will isn’t done. He tilts Nate’s face higher. “Does Mitch know about us, Nate? Does he know you had sex with the person he thinks killed his son?”
