“Did you like your reward as much as I did?” I ask him between kisses. “Do you wonder what it would be like,” another kiss, deeper and more possessive, “for me to be the one on my knees for you? I’d do that for you, Tommy.” I bite his lower lip, then kiss the small hurt away. “I’ve never done that for a man, but I have this strong feeling that I could make cum so hard that you cry. Would you cry for me, Tommy?”
“Fuck,” he whispers into my kisses. “You’re–I–yeah, probably–”
“Good boy.” I roll over him, then climb to my feet, pulling him with me. He yelps indignantly at the sudden handling, then scowls as he brushes invisible dust off himself.
“Take me to a bed next time,” he complains, pretending to crack his back. But despite his barbed tone and the bratty expression, I read the words for what they are. A request. Permission. A need that he’s expressing to me.
Loud and clear, sweet boy.
“There will be a next time,” I reassure him. “Unless you safe-word, it’s happening. In a bed, if you want. Or wherever. I’m open to options.”
He goes rigid, then melts, then rolls his eyes and storms away so I can’t see his face. “Whatever, loser. Let’s go! I’m fucking hungry.”
His voice breaks when he yells, more evidence that he took my cock deep, and I smirk at the way his shoulders hunch in embarrassment, but he doesn’t look back at me over his shoulder. I follow him out, swiping up the envelope of blackmail photos as I go.
I’m going to have to take care of this. I won’t allow anyone to threaten mine. Brian’s stupid fucking family has no idea what they’ve done. They thought I’d be afraid of my interest in Tommy? Ashamed of him? That I’d want to hide him?
They’re dead fucking wrong.
“Holy shit!” Tommy’s surprised voice echoes from the parking lot and I exit the building to find him staring–comically shocked–at Yosef and the security detail waiting for us. “Were you guys out here this whole time?”
“They’re here to guard me, Tommy.” I put my hand on his lower back and gently guide him into the car. “Where else would they be?”
“But we–and they–and it’s been–ugh! Fucking psycho freak,” he mutters, crossing his arms and scowling out the window while I buckle him in.
Chapter 27
Tommy
I wish I could say that on the day I finally decided to kill the man who took me, it was because I was smart. I wish it was because I finally decided to stand up for myself, or thought I deserved better, or just, I don’t fucking know, just knew what to do to fix everything. All I wanted was for everything to just…be fixed.
But nah, it wasn’t for any reason like that. It wasn’t because of the years he had me and used me, the psychological and emotional abuse, the way he shared me.
The day I decided to kill him, it was because I found out that I was too old for him.
He was going to kidnap another boy. I saw him watching one in particular in our neighborhood. I saw him taking photos, learning the boy’s routine. He started dropping hints about wanting anotherchildto love, one we could love together.
At first, I didn’t understand. I know, I’m a dumbfuck, because it was so obvious, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it. It didn’t even occur to me until he fucking spelled it out for me. But once I knew…he was marked for death. Finally,finallyI could feel my rage burning within, burning hot enough to actually be useful. All my hatred and all my pain, all of it would be sharpened into a weapon.
I’d reached my breaking point.
I wasn’t going to let him take any other little boys. No. I wasn’t going to stand by and let some other little kid forget his mother’s face. No.
No, no no, no, NO.
Sometimes I tell myself that I should take some comfort and pride in the fact that I put a stop to him, but honestly? I’m ashamed of how long it took me to get there. How long I stayed, how long I waited, how long I rolled over and prayed that things would just be fixed. I was so useless, so worthless, so weak.
Those men broke me, especially the one that took me. And I waited so long that all of me,all of me,is fucked up.
I’m so fucked up that I don’t know what a good thing even is anymore.
I’m not sure what’s happening.
I’m just…laying here in this big, stupid bed in Young-gi’s guest room, staring at the ceiling. I’m hungry for breakfast, but I don’t get up to eat. I’m tired and wish I could go back to sleep, but I can’t. I’m restless as the daylight gets brighter outside the curtained window, but I don’t get out of bed. I’m lonely, but I keep the door closed. I’m overwhelmed, but I don’t know what to do about it.
So I just lay here.
My throat feels a little tender from the pounding it took last night, and I absentmindedly rub it as I think. Not even memories of sucking Young-gi’s dick can cheer me up.
