Alone: Book 4 in The Everett Gaming Series Read online

  Had I always been on my side?

  I was facing the couch when I felt a painful sensation and suddenly felt hot from head to toe. I was breaking out in a sweat and felt like his weight was on me, crushing me to the floor.

  Fuck, what the hell was going on?

  I forced my eyes open, causing sharp pain to surge from behind them. I shut them again and quickly reached for my head.

  Why can’t I reach my head? My arms were trapped. The blows to my body continued, and with each punch my forehead knocked on the wood floor.

  Was that my forehead? What the fuck was it doing on the floor?

  If it was on the floor, it meant my chest was on the floor.

  Was I face down?

  What was holding my arms down?

  I tried to raise my head, only to feel an iron grip on the back of my neck. He gripped my neck like it was foam and shook me. I was so dizzy.

  “You’re awfully quiet now, and not so mouthy. Still don’t care what I do to you, Anthony?” His hand was on the back of my head and neck, pushing me into the floor as he spoke.

  What the fuck was happening?

  I tried to figure things out and couldn’t think straight with this terrible head pain. He continued to shake me with his hand around my neck and pushed his knuckles in my lower back with his other hand. It made me squirm; it hurt that bad. I felt pain in my abdomen, and I pulled on my arms with all my strength. My hands were up off the floor in surrender, even though I couldn’t move my arms for whatever reason. I swallowed hard, barely muttering red and apologized. This was stupid and dangerous, and I needed to end this.

  “Red...red, Victor. I’m sorry. This wasn’t a good idea. I think we can end our evening.”

  He mumbled something, and I was being jostled again. Ow. Oh fuck, ow.

  What the ever-loving fuck just happened?

  I heard the clang of my belt buckle on the floor and felt the weight of him being removed. I was being pushed around again, and I think I felt an elastic band snap on my skin.

  What…the…fuck?

  I shut my eyes, but they opened when I heard a zipper. I had heard that, hadn’t I? It was probably his toy bag for his implements. Victor walked to where my arms were stretched out in front of me and I tried to move them away from him, but I couldn’t. He unlocked the metal cuffs from my wrists that had been holding me in place around the leg of my couch.

  When did he cuff me to my fucking couch?

  He grabbed me by my shoulders and rolled me over so I was on my back. I was breathing hard and staring at my blurry ceiling, trying to put together what happened. My head fucking hurt. I felt his hands on me again, helping me stand but I nearly fell over from the dizziness and throbbing of my head. I was pretty sure that I hit my head very hard. I think I started to feel my jeans beginning to slide down and was confused, but then I felt his hands on me again.

  Why were his hands on me?

  I backed away, putting enough distance between him and I while I tried to think. Everything was spinning, and I felt sick to my stomach and was sweating. I looked at my watch and frowned. I grabbed my head and looked at my watch again.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just my watch is off or something. Battery.”

  Victor looked at his watch and said that it was after 3:30 a.m.

  “What the fuck? It wasn’t even 2:00 when you got here. You haven’t been here over an hour and half.” My throat was scratchy and hurt to talk and swallow.

  He raised his eyebrow at me and said I hit my head pretty hard and that I blacked out for the good stuff. His smile made me uneasy. I saw him bend to pick up something from the floor.

  Oh fuck, what the hell? Is he mind-fucking with me?

  I shut my eyes for a moment and they flew open when I felt his hand slap down on my chest. Where the fuck was my shirt?

  “You’re too tight, Graves. Thought I might have fixed that. You might need another session with me soon. You need to loosen up a bit. Need anything before I go?” He walked into my kitchen and tossed some stuff in the trash.

  “No.” God no.

  I felt his eyes on me, and soon his huge frame came closer to me. I wanted him out of here.

  “If you put some ice on those wrists, they won’t swell. Clean ‘em up. Your wrists were too big for the cuffs.”

  What the fuck was he talking about?

  I was confused and somewhat shocked when I looked down at my wrists. They were really red and I had a few cuts and many scratches.

  I leaned against the door after he left and did a quick glance down at my body. My shirt was off. I don’t remember taking it off but could see it poking around the couch. My shoes were off too, but I could see them over by the door to the balcony.

  How the fuck did they get over there?

  I began tasting blood and looked down at my body. For the most part, I didn’t see much blood. There was a little here and there, but what bothered me the most right now was the fact that I was shaking.

  Think, Graves! What the fuck happened?

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand and saw a streak of red across it. I blinked several times, trying to figure out where the blood was coming from. My hand hurt and I looked at it to see my knuckles were red and the skin over two of them were split.

  My head and neck were killing me. I stood at the counter and quickly poured a small glass of the alcohol with a shaking hand, downed it and stared at the empty glass. When I pushed myself away from the counter, something made a clanging noise. I looked down, which caused the throbbing in my head to multiply. I stared at my belt that was undone, along with the button to my jeans.

  What the fuck had happened?

  I was fucked up. I remember him sitting over me and remember him grabbing my belt. But then he helped me up, right?

  I think.

  “Fucking think!” I yelled out loud at myself.

  Fuck, my head.

  I began to panic at the sight of my belt being undone and feeling sore all over. One thing that I couldn’t push out of my mind was how bad my stomach hurt and was cramping. I grabbed a Coke and poured it into another glass, along with the alcohol. I took a few sips and then decided to go check out my body in the mirror. And maybe my head. I stumbled in the hall but caught myself against the wall. I was so dizzy.

  In the bathroom, I stared in disbelief at the broken skin and red marks. Did he use a cane on me? I tried to remember, but I couldn’t. What looked like marks from a cane, decorated my stomach. I found the blood was coming from my ear. It didn’t look like the inside of my ear, but there was definitely a cut on it. That must have been where the trail was coming from that I ended up tasting. I turned slightly to look at my back. I swallowed hard at the sight of the strap marks.

  Fuck me.

  I touched my jeans to change and then decided against it; changing would force me to look. As I stretched, I felt a terrible pain in my stomach, followed up by a damp feeling along the back of my boxer briefs. Frowning, I reached along the waistband in the back and felt how damp it was there.

  Oh, holy fucking shit.

  My fucking head was killing me, but I made it to the toilet and threw up. What the fuck happened? Victor had been fucking with my head, hadn’t he?

  I grabbed some washcloths and made it back to the bedroom where I flopped down on the bed. I felt fuzzy, but the feelings of anger were obvious to me. I can’t believe Paul took her from us. For whatever reason, I thought hurling a pillow across the room would make me feel better. I stared at it on the floor across the room, but felt no better.

  I fucking hate Paul and he’ll pay. I thought back to the time while Colin was in China, and Paul pulled that crazy shit at the club. He wanted to start something then. I thought I made it clear to him that night to stay the fuck away from Sydney and Colin.

  I hate him.

  Still with shaking hands, I pulled the receipt for the Everclear from my pocket and smoothed it out. I grabbed a pen from the nightstand and smoothed t
he blank side of the receipt against my thigh.

  That mutherfucker Paul called me an obnoxious pussy.

  Maybe I am, I just don’t know any more Sunshine.

  I can’t believe that I can ever protect you when I can’t even stand up for myself.

  The pain should have brought us closer together, but now I feel more isolated and alone

  Than ever in my life.

  When I get you back I promise one thing,

  I will kill him…

  I felt no better after writing that. If anything, maybe I was more angry and felt more sorry for myself. I wadded up the receipt and threw it as hard as I could. It now joined the pillow across the room on the floor.

  From the nightstand I picked up a frameless picture of Sydney and I sitting on the patio and rubbed my finger over her smiling face.

  Sydney.

  I pulled the sock monkey to me and could smell the vanilla again. All thoughts were of Sydney. Nothing could take her away from my head. I was stupid to think someone else inflicting pain on me would take the pain of Sydney away or make me feel any better. Realizing this, I allowed myself to stretch out on the bed and cry for her. No one was here to see it, so I had little shame in doing it. Crying made my head hurt even more.

  8

  Sunday, January 12th

  Paul

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” I said as I poured the pitcher of ice water over Sydney’s head. She woke right up and frantically looked around the room. I loved watching the fear settle on her face. Her hands shook and her nostrils flared. The fear on her face made her much more attractive to me. “Today’s a fresh start for you. I’m going to take the gag off. You will be quiet.”

  Once the gag was removed, she clamped her lips together and her breathing increased. She didn’t make a peep. I’ve seen the look of fear in sub’s eyes before, but Sydney wore fear like an accessory. I got the feeling she was used to it. The thought that it was from Graves or Everett didn’t feel right though. She really intrigued me. Someone had their way with her, that’s for certain. I recall Everett mentioning her coming out of something bad, and Blake brought it up, too. This one was interesting, and I found her fascinating.

  I dropped two pieces of toast on the floor and took the wire ties off her wrists.

  “Eat.”

  She made no move towards the toast. This wasn’t an option, and she needed to learn who was in charge. I slapped her across her face and grabbed her jaw.

  “That wasn’t a suggestion, slut.”

  Tears - this was good. I watched her for a moment as she shook violently but kept her mouth tightly shut. Time to get into this little beauty’s head. I moved closer and whispered her name a few times until she looked up at me. When she finally made eye contact with me, I gave her a sympathetic look and then yelled at the top of my lungs, “EAT!”

  I watched her scarf the toast down, taking notice to her mannerisms and how badly she shook. She was scared, which is exactly what I wanted.

  “The sooner you fall in line and mold to my expectations, the easier it will be for you.”

  She looked like she wanted to ask something.

  “Speak.”

  “I-if I d-do, will y-you l-let M-master Ant-thony go?”

  Fucking Master Anthony? I stood and paced around the room, looking for something to use on her. She still wasn’t on board with submitting to me without a deal in it for fucking Graves. Now I wished that I did have him here. She could watch as I cut him. If she was going to fight and resist me at every turn, then I’d meet her. I’d knock her down until she stopped getting up and stopped talking about Graves and Everett.

  I stood her up and attached her arms to the overhead hook and pulled on the cable until her toes were barely touching the ground. And just because I was so fucking pissed off, I punched her in the stomach as I walked over to my wall of weapons. I pulled a whip off the wall and turned to watch her convulse against the cables. She lowered her head and threw up.

  “Bad girl! That was your food for the day. I would have thought you would have liked to keep it longer. You’re a disgusting girl! I don’t know how Everett stood the sight of you for so long. Feeling sorry for a piece of trash only goes so far.”

  I remembered from her play card at Irons that name calling like “bad girl” was a trigger and a hard limit. I had memorized her card and would use it to my advantage whenever possible.

  I brought the whip down nice and hard on her back. I whipped that girl until my arm was tired and the tears stopped falling. Blood was drawn and her head was hung - defeated. She’s breaking, but isn’t broken yet. I snapped a gorgeous photo and would send it to Everett.

  I let her down, and she curled up in the fetal position. It brought a smile to my face. Once they start retreating to the fetal position, the breaking has already begun. I cleaned up her mess, cleaned her lash marks and chained her up against the wall again, and attaching her gag.

  I came back a few hours later and found that she hadn’t moved much. I decided to show her the other girl. I stood in front of her and loved how she hurried to an upright position. She was afraid. And she should be.

  Fear looked so sexy on her and I grew aroused.

  “Sydney, Sydney, Sydney. I want to show you something, and you’re going to be quiet.”

  I wasn’t worried about her making noise because she had the gag on. I watched her nostrils flare and throat constrict as she swallowed.

  “I’ll be right back, little Everett’s slut.”

  I went to the adjoining room and unchained Tammie, the other girl. She was so drugged that she didn’t even know what end was up. She couldn’t walk on her own, so I just took hold of her ankles and drug her body into Sydney’s room. I dropped Tammie’s legs when we were in front of Sydney and crouched down between the two women.

  “Sydney, meet Tammie.”

  I grabbed Tammie’s hair, lifting her head off the ground so Sydney could see her face. I wanted Sydney to see what I could do, hoping it would instill more fear. I could tell that Sydney was breathing harder now, and her nostrils continued to flare.

  “Tammie, meet Sydney. She’s the reason you’re here.”

  I let Tammie’s head fall to the concrete and for good measure, I pulled down a flogger and flogged Tammie not even a foot away from Sydney. When I was tired, I drug Tammie’s body back to her room, chained her back up and headed back through to Sydney’s room.

  “Night, night Everett’s toy.”

  Before I closed her up in the room for the night, I flipped the light off.

  Sydney didn’t like the dark.

  9

  Sunday, January 12th

  Colin

  I heard Matt talking on the phone with Blake, but I couldn’t make much out and was having trouble concentrating on it. His conversation was just white noise to me right now. Anthony didn’t come home last night, and I didn’t think it was possible to hurt anymore, but I did. I suppose after co-topping with him for a span of close to fifteen years, subconsciously I’ve become attached to Anthony as well. I was missing both of my better halves and felt empty.

  Today was Sunday, and Sydney has been gone since Friday afternoon. And Anthony since last night, and I feel like my world has fallen apart. Matt’s folks were on their way over with Gina soon, and I still hadn’t given any thought to what Matt’s parents were going to hear about my involvement with Sydney. I couldn’t pretend that she didn’t mean everything to me. Anthony wasn’t here to help me figure out what to say to Matt’s parents. Things couldn’t get any worse. Wait, no, they very easily could get worse. God please don’t let it get any worse. I’m not strong enough for anything else. Matt got off the phone and then sat down next to me.

  “What happened?”

  “Blake got a call this morning from Will. Will had a message from a friend of his around 4:00 this morning. The guy said he left Anthony’s place and thought that someone should check on him.”

  “What? Who was the friend of Will’s, and
what the fuck was he doing at Anthony’s?” I interrupted Matt because I wasn’t following any of this so far and just wanted an answer as to where Anthony was. Matt looked cautiously at me before sharing the info he had.

  “Anthony hired Will’s sadist friend to beat on him last night.” I blinked a few times trying to comprehend what Matt was telling me.

  What the fuck? Anthony hired a sadist to beat on him. Goddamnit. He’s hurting and is trying to punish himself. He needs to be here. I stood and roamed around until I heard the doorbell. Matt’s family.

  “Is he okay, Matt?”

  “Blake’s with him.”

  “That’s not what I asked, Matt.”

  “I’m sorry, Col. You have enough on your plate. Let me worry about Anthony.”

  “I’m worried about him, too! I can worry about two people at the same time! I’m used to it because I watch over both of them.”

  Fuck, here I go with the emotional shit. I quickly wiped my eyes on my sleeve before going to the door. I got hugs from Gina and then Gloria, but it was Arthur’s embrace that made me weaker. I felt like there was no way for me to not cry.

  “Colin, we are so sorry. It’s okay son, let it out,” Arthur encouraged me as I clung to him.

  Arthur was like a father to me. He was always there for me when I cried about losing my parents and brother when I was younger. He knew what to say to me and knew how to help me think positive. I pulled away from Arthur and gave him a faint smile.

  I showed everyone to the great room and was going to go get beverages for everyone, but Matt made me sit. Gloria had been nothing but tears since she walked in and I felt bad. I was a mess, too. They arrived at a horrible time when I was trying to figure out what was going on with Anthony.

  When Matt and Gina came back with the drinks we filled his folks in on developments - which were very few. I told them about the horrible text pictures and how each time they’re coming from a different cell number. I filled them in on the police detectives and told them about the security stills we saw.