Antidote (Don't) (20 page)

“Jan?” Towel wrapped around his waist, Jack was there, roughing up his hair with another. “What—” My heart beat hard as Jack saw the silent images playing out quietly on the flat screen—then found me.

“
Jan.”
Towel dropped, Jack was over by me. “
What th’ fuck
?” I started to shake my head as Jack cupped my face. “Fuck.” He wiped away tears, then tried to pull the gag free. “Who—”

Vince came from behind and Jack must have seen something, maybe the startle in my eyes. He started to turn, to stand. But for all of his huge size, Vince moved surprisingly fast, grabbing Jack around the neck, pulling him back, up, as someone came out of nowhere and jabbed something into his arm.

Jack fought so hard for a few more seconds, his terror on me, for me, then whatever hope of him getting away was lost to the close of his eyes, to the complete relaxation of his body into Vince.

“Yeah,” Vince was smiling as he thumbed along Jack’s throat, still hugging him close, “there you go, princess, you catch a few winks before we start.” He eased Jack to the floor, left him there on his side as he came over.

“You too, sweetheart.” I got a pat to my cheek, then a needle punctured my arm. “Your slut over there.” He looked back at Jack. “Gonna teach him to be a good boy and stop fucking things up for people. And you, Jan,” he looked at me, “you can come along too.”

I woke to find a strange taste in my mouth. The feel of polished wood numbed my ass, and the smell of the familiar made me screw up my face. To match the polished wood, Jack’s CK One cologne lightly dusted the room. Then came a draft of his shower gel, as if his en suite was just a few steps away. The pain in my wrists was something new, so too was being on the floor, and I eased my eyes open. Darkness still hugged me close, and as I caught Jack’s bed, the crisp whiteness of his duvet... so too was Jack’s bedroom. I stiffened and glanced around. The towel he’d dropped wasn’t there anymore, but Jack’s bedroom—we were still in Jack’s bedroom.

Above my head, a metal ring had been attached to the wall, and a thick chain rattled as I tried to ease the hurt in my wrists. Lights were still off, but no shadows moved in the bedroom now. I blinked a few times, needing to focus, to get a sense of why, of where—

“Jack?” The bit gag was gone from my mouth, but it didn’t stop how sore and broken my voice was as I tried to find Jack.

Movement came from the bed as someone climbed out, and a moment later Vince padded his nakedness over.

Naked.

His dick was thick, hard, just stopping short of his navel with a red, bulging tip that left smears of pre-come on his skin. He was big, painfully so, and as he crouched down, he scratched at his balls and gave a yawn. “Keep it down for a moment, yeah? Princess is still trying to sleep over there.”

That stole every part of me. On his stomach, head buried in the pillows, arms tucked underneath them, Jack lay on the bed, half hidden by the covers, sleeping there, or looking every part fast asleep at least. The gratuitous shaping of a silk sheet hugged his body, showing the fine contours, but he was also naked. It confused the hell out of me: I was his polar opposite, chained, but dressed in suit trousers, shirt, tie and tailored jacket. And it wasn’t just any suit, but one from my wardrobe at home.

But Jack, Jack was naked, and Vince had been laying next to him. Naked.

“You never touch him,” I said in a flat, calm voice. “I mean—ever.”

“No?” Giving a sniff, Vince patted my cheek, then stood and padded back over to the bed. “Kind of envy you, Jan,” he mumbled. He drifted a touch over the silk shaping the curve of Jack’s ass. “You get to lie next to this of a night.”

“Keal.” My breathing went so fucking deep, heart pounding hard. “You’re with Keal.” The bedroom window wasn’t too far from me, slightly ajar, shifting the blinds just a touch. Ken, Jack’s next door neighbour, he was always at home. He’d hear if I—

“
Fucker, you touch him I swear to God
—” Crying out, I kicked the hell out of Jack’s bedroom unit, thudding against the wooden floor, anything that would make a row. “
People. They’ll find you. Christ will they find you and tear your fucking fingers off for even breathing by him
.”

Vince glanced up into the corner of the bedroom, to where a red light blinked. “Yeah, tear my fingers off, hmmmm?” He shifted the silk sheet off Jack, giving a distant smile at the full offer of tanned nakedness, then he laid his body down, his whole frame completely swamping Jack’s and pressing him into the mattress.

“
Off
.”

But hands traced up Jack’s arms, showing that he wasn’t tied down.

“Heard he likes playing rape,” said Vince, kissing lightly at Jack’s right shoulder. “Gonna be good to see how loud he can cry it.”

“
Get the fuck off him
. Get—”

Vince glanced back, just briefly. “This bit, it’s just for you, Jan, to show you he’s mine from now on in. Then you count the days waiting for someone to come and tear my fingers off for touching him.” He ran a hand down Jack’s side, petting, digging into the toned skin on his side, his hip. “Personally, I’ve got a feeling nobody’s gonna miss you pair. Fucking shame that,” he mumbled. “I know I’d miss this.”

Vince reached to Jack’s thigh, gently pulled his leg up until it was now bent at the knee, then he eased his hips down, one hand on his dick and seeking out everything in this world he had no right to claim.

I went still. “The man who owns Jack,” I said quietly, hearing Vince groan as he easily pushed in, “he’ll find you. He’ll find you, and there’ll be nothing left of what’s between your thighs for touching him.”

“Owns?” Vince set a gentle pace inside Jack. “You don’t own something like this,” he said, brushing his lips over Jack’s neck. “You fuck it.” He held himself deep in Jack. “Yeah,” he breathed quietly, “thought he’d be tight. All the workout his ass gets.”

“
He’s not even fucking conscious
.”

“Oh, point taken. Not okay to rape when he’s unconscious; okay by you to rape him when he’s awake.” Chuckling, his rape came slow, not hurried in any sense. Just taking, knowing there was all the time in the world to take with an unconscious mind and body.

“
Sick—you sick fucking
—” I tried to shut it out; the soft slaps of hips against ass, the rhythm the mattress was made to take, the sighs, the slicked up sounds, the kissing and gentle bites at Jack’s shoulder—the absurdity of how easily it was all allowed to happen.

Vince picked up his pace, now enjoying himself a little more, making sure Jack jerked underneath him with each harder pound. He looked close to grunting out his come, even groaned it, then suddenly pulled back, his dick still hard, not spent, but slick from loving where it had been. No condom—the bastard hadn’t used a condom.

Giving a satisfied bite to Jack’s shoulder, then a slap of his ass, Vince climbed off and came over. Hand on slick dick, he crouched and tutted at me. “Nice vocals there, Jan.”

Slick. I looked away from how slick his dick was, how tight his balls were, more than up for finishing the ride.

“Gonna have some right fun, us.” A hand brushed my lips. “Don’t go quiet on me, kid. Stay focused.” Giving a glance back over his shoulder, Vince gave a whistle. A moment later, the bedroom door eased open, casting a little light over the floor from somewhere downstairs. The shape and shadow looked thin enough for Henry, but there was also that cheap clink from his wrist, the sound of a cheap watch knocking against the handle of the door that told me it was him. He threw something over and Vince caught it—then a sniff at his fingers, Henry climbed onto the bed.

“Oh, sweet fucking ride.” Henry straddled Jack’s hips, pulling out a hunting knife. Watching the play of light off the blade, he ran it over Jack’s shoulder blade, his glance back at me a sly one now as he was caught in the light of the door.

“Don’t.” I shifted, and Vince grabbed my hair, forcing me to stay focused as scratch marks on Jack’s shoulder blade were left visible in the wake of Henry’s knife.

“He won’t,” said Vince, “so long as you do exactly what you’re told, and I mean exactly what you’re told, now.” He held up a mobile, Jack’s. Had Jack’s been in his jacket? He never really was up-to-date with how mobile phones were meant to be... mobile. “When you speak,” Vince said flatly, “you keep a nice, calm voice, Jan. If you don’t?”

The knife sliced over Jack’s left shoulder, not deep enough to scar, but enough to leave a trickle of blood weeping and running away in terror from the blade. Jack stirred, just slightly, with a drugged up mumble that had him gripping at the bed sheets.

“
Stop. For God’s sake, stop
.” Henry did, but the tip of his blade drew distracted patterns in the trails of blood that tried to escape.

“Then be a good lad, Jan,” said Vince. “Now, repeat what I say. When the speaker answers—”

He forced my head up, making me struggle to breathe as I watched Henry play in Jack’s blood. “When the speaker answers,” I mumbled.

“You tell him you’re taking Jack away for a break.”

Slow circles were drawn on Jack’s toned skin, some toddler’s attempt at twisted blood art. “I’m taking Jack away for a break,” I said coldly.

“You’ll be back after Christmas.”

“Christmas—”

Henry leaned down and licked at one of the scratches.

“—back after Christmas.”

“Good boy,” said Vince, tapping my cheek. “Keep it short, keep it sweet. He starts asking any questions, you say bye.” A rougher grip in my hair. “What do you say?”

The bottom of Henry’s lip was red as he pulled away and licked across them.

“Bye.”

“There we go.” Vince thumbed through Jack’s phone and pressed it to my ear.

“Mr. Raoul’s?” said the voice over the phone. Rachel.

Life came sharply into focus as I twisted to look at the phone. A finger pressed just as sharply against my lip.

On the bed, Henry dragged the knife down over the tanned curve of Jack’s left ass cheek, slowly dragging it this way, that.

“Can... may I speak to Gray, please, Rachel? Jan Richards.” I hadn’t spoken to her before, but remembered Jack using the name a few months back when he’d had to call Gray outside of the MC. Vince had called Gray. Yeah. Who else would he be calling?

Quiet, then a voice came through. “Jan?” He sounded tired, like he hadn’t slept in a few days. He hadn’t slept.

A tear slipped free. Henry was running the fine point of the blade towards the crease of Jack’s ass. After only a moment, it paused against his most vulnerable access point.

In that one instant, that hunting knife was closer to Jack than Gray would ever be. “Gray... I’m taking Jack away for a while.”

Quiet. “Let me talk to him, please, Jan.”

Henry used the flat of his hand to open Jack’s cheek, just to show where the point of the knife played. Another tear fell. “Please. Time. He needs—” Christ. Jack was already red and sore there. Had Vince...? “Hurt.” Vince stroked at my cheek. “I’ll make sure he talks to you when we get back. We’ll talk, Just... hurt. He’s hurting.”
Christ, he’s hurting, Gray.

Nothing was said, then the line went dead from Gray’s end.

“Well played.” Vince got to his feet and threw Jack’s phone over to Henry. “You can get some sleep now.” I got a kick at my feet. “Don’t need you for this next bit.”

Henry came over as Vince went back over to the bed. I never took my gaze off how he easily he slipped in next to Jack and pulled him close.

“Come on you, up you get,” said Henry.

I did, and every ounce of fight I had came with it. Other men came into the room, and all Vince did was fluff his pillow as I was dragged out.

“Here we go,” said Henry, and my back hit the bed hard in Jack’s spare room as Henry and his men dumped me down, leaving me needing to throw up as the world carried on spinning. Before I could get up, a mass of hands dragged me further up the bed and mine were chained above my head. Rope around my ankles made sure I was spread wide just before my shoes and socks were tugged off. “Comfortable?” mumbled Henry.

There was no option of a reply as a gag bit into my mouth before being tied.

“Awww, pet. It’s been a rough day for you.” A needle was passed over and I started to struggle. “Let’s make you happy for a while, let you sleep. You look like you’ll have such a sweet sleeping face.”

Jack. I tried to cry out at that.

“Hey, hey,” soothed Henry, giving a smile. “Vince is gonna teach him to be a nice pussycat.” The needle dug into my arm. “Nothing for you to worry about just yet.”

Life started to get dark very fast.

“You just worry about me...”

Shouting woke me first. Then the sound of hell breaking loose seemed to slip away just as quickly as mugginess tried to pull me back under. Feet taking steps two at a time added a pulse to all of the cries that seemed to go up all over the place. A door came open in the distance and Jack seemed to cry a thousand and one obscenities.

Jack.

Fucking Jack
.

The spare room door came open as I writhed on the bed, making sure the metal bedstead knocked and banged against the wall, answering his fight. It seemed to go quiet for a moment in another room, then Jack was shouting my name, calling life out as more thuds came from his room.