Alone: Book 4 in The Everett Gaming Series

by Drew Sera

  He was dead tired and continued slipping in and out of sleep. The more I thought about this, I realized Anthony was in shock. He was probably in emotional shock before he even went to his place Saturday night, given everything that had been going on with Sydney and Paul. I tried blocking Colin’s view with the rumpled up blanket and lifted the back of Anthony’s shirt a little. Christ. He was in bad shape. I lowered the shirt and covered him back up, setting my hand on his lower back. I could feel him trying to knock my hand off his back.

  “He slept some, yes. But…” Blake trailed off and looked at Colin.

  “But what, Blake?” I prompted.

  “Sunday morning when I found him, he was coming out of a nightmare and then after I took him to the doctor, he slept but woke up again with another nightmare. He said they’re not very common, but it concerned me that he had two of them. The belt seemed to be the common factor. After he came out of the nightmare when I found him, he reached under himself and freaked out over the belt. Then at my house he said his nightmare was about his step-dad using a belt on him.”

  I took a deep breath and looked down at Anthony. His eyes were closed, and I was sure he was asleep. His breathing was even, and his shaking had subsided. Blake quietly told Colin and I that Anthony told him a little about his step-dad. I knew part of Blake’s stressed look was probably due to hearing about that.

  “He didn’t eat much. He ate part of a cookie today and then a little something the night before. He’s been throwing up and has the chills. I know his stomach is bothering him a lot. Something isn’t right.”

  Blake was obviously worried. Anthony was like a son to him. And he was a brother to Colin and I. I still have the images in my head of what was in Anthony’s medical and police files. I’m still not over that and doubt I ever will be. To think that something shitty might have happened to him just a few days ago wasn’t sitting well with me either. I had to try to remain calm though. Both Colin and Anthony were wrecks right now, and Blake and I needed to be the calm for them.

  “I found him in the same position. When he slept at my place, he’d end up in this position. Colin, does he sleep like that with you and Sydney?”

  “No, he holds Sydney. She’s always in his arms. Every night. I think he’s had one bad dream since he’s been here.”

  The onset of nightmares was probably due to Sydney’s disappearance. I wouldn’t be surprised if they continued, given the re-introduction of a belt being used violently on Anthony.

  17

  Monday, January 13th

  Colin

  I didn’t know what exactly had gone on with Anthony since Saturday night, but I knew that I’d find out eventually. I was just happy to have him home and here with me. We can help each other through this fucked up time. He was trying to keep the subject and questions off himself, but everyone was worried. He was on edge, exhausted, and seemed “off”.

  Matt was pushing for information, and Blake sat there looking concerned and out of sorts. I was worried over him too, but I was also worried about Sydney. Seeing the new text picture of her bound to a staircase just about tore me in two. And of course, the audio portion of the text just about drove me insane.

  Sitting there next to Anthony, I listened to Matt and Blake go back and forth vaguely in the background. Anthony has obviously been through a rough weekend. First with Sydney and then whatever the fuck he did Saturday night. From what it sounded like, Blake had already raked him over the coals, too. I wasn’t going to do that, and I wasn’t going to allow them to do it anymore tonight. He was wiped of energy, and he needed some peace.

  “Enough. Let him be tonight. Look at him.” Matt and Blake both nodded and agreed to drop it for tonight. “Anth, it’s late. Come on, I’ll help you to bed.” I stood by him waiting for his approval before I started jostling him. His head was causing him a lot of pain, so I didn’t want to add to it.

  “Let me sleep here,” he mumbled.

  “No, you need a bed, with a pillow.”

  He sat up gingerly and held his head in his hands. When he stood, he put his hands on his hips for balance. After he looked like he could move, he began to walk down the hall to the guest room. I went upstairs to get him some of his clean clothes and also grabbed the blanket that Matt gave him for Christmas.

  Anthony was sitting on the bed when I walked in. I tossed his stuff onto the bed next to him and went into the bathroom to get him a wet washcloth. When I came back, he had changed into his lounge pants and was pulling on his tee shirt. That’s when I caught a glimpse of the bruising on his body. I froze on the spot and opened my mouth to demand to know what happened, but I had promised to let him rest. After he washed his face, he pulled something out of his jeans pocket and stared at it. He took a deep breath and looked at the photograph he held in his hands and then at me in desperation. He was torn up emotionally and physically. He got into bed in the same position he had been in on the chaise, and it worried me. I know why people go to that position; they’re sheltering themselves. Sydney used to do it all of the time in the beginning. She hasn’t done it in a while, but now Anthony was seeking that kind of comfort and honestly, it scared the shit out of me. He wasn’t himself, not that I was feeling stellar either.

  “Night, Anth. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Before I left the room, I told him that I was glad he was home.

  I hope he sleeps tonight. Seeing Anthony so out of sorts wasn’t a common thing Matt and I had witnessed from him. Aside from the time he got drunk over his feelings for Sydney.

  Sydney. My body ached for her. I went back to the great room and sat on the couch with Matt and Blake.

  “Is he okay?” Matt asked.

  “I don’t know, Matt. I caught him when he was changing shirts and his body is really bruised and screwed up.” I paused and looked at the two of them. “Why are you guys riding and pushing him?”

  Blake and Matt exchanged glances before one of them spoke.

  “How close of attention were you paying to him when he was talking about Saturday night?”

  “Honestly, not as close as I should have been. I have a lot on my mind and I was trying to follow everything.”

  The two of them explained the sequence of events from Anthony’s account. He had a Pro Dom, who happened to be a sadist, pound on him for what he thought was for about thirty minutes when in reality it was an hour and half.

  I’m beyond angry with him for seeking out abuse. It’s different if you’re seeing a Pro Dom for sexual excitement or even release of built up tension, but that wasn’t the case with Anthony. Anthony isn’t a masochist. Yeah, he likes a little bite here there, but not full on pain sessions. Anthony saw the Pro Dom to be hurt and punished for Sydney’s abduction.

  Matt recounted the events for me. Anthony banged his head really hard on the floor when his knees gave out and buckled from the pain of being hit on his lower back by a fucking belt. Anger found it’s way seeping deeper into my system. Matt voiced his opinion of Anthony negotiating a beating with a belt. What the hell was he thinking? Then Blake filled me in on the belt issues and sudden nightmares.

  “Whenever he’d lie down at my house to rest, I always found him in that protective position.”

  He was doing that again before I left his room. Blake worries that Anthony may have been sexually assaulted Saturday night. From listening to Matt, he shares Blake’s fear. I quickly began replaying things from this evening and thinking. Anthony moved very carefully and only when movement was absolutely necessary. Jesus fucking Christ. I took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling.

  The doctor Blake took him to mainly checked his head and some of the bruises on his back and chest. Blake thought Anthony might not even remember it or that his mind is blocking it out. Blake fears that Anthony might be worried about what exactly had happened.

  “He isn’t okay. He’s afraid to voice the possibility. We can’t let that fester and let him sit with those fears and worries on his own,” Blake said in a hushed tone.


  I suddenly was hyper protective of Anthony and understood Matt and Blake’s concern. I swear to God, if someone hurt him like that I’d have words with the fucking sadist. I’ve had just about all I can take with sadists lately. I’d talk to Anthony tomorrow. Anthony wouldn’t allow that or request something like that no matter how upset he was. I told Blake that Anthony wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  “He was drunk, Colin. You and I both know his tolerance for alcohol isn’t very high. He had a bottle of 190 proof alcohol on his counter and had been sipping from it. He was drunk before the guy got there.”

  The pain in my chest was growing. My baby was gone and Anthony had fallen apart after our altercation. I couldn’t help but feel part responsible. If I hadn’t tried to keep those texts and pictures from Anthony, he and I wouldn’t have argued, I wouldn’t have said the shit I said and he wouldn’t have left.

  “I pushed him away that night,” the words left my mouth before I could stop them.

  “Colin, don’t attempt to take blame,” Matt said in a firm tone.

  “He was my responsibility too, Matt. He’s the other part of our V. I was supposed to watch over him too.”

  I told Matt and Blake that we’d be okay tonight and they could go home. Matt refused though saying that he wanted to make sure Anthony was okay due to his concussion.

  “I won’t push him anymore, Col. I just want to stay to keep an eye on him.”

  It was probably a good idea. I went upstairs and crashed on my bed. I let my mind drift off to think good thoughts for my baby.

  18

  Tuesday, January 14th

  Matt

  Moaning that sounded painful caught my attention. I sat up on the couch and strained to listen more carefully and determined it was coming from Anthony’s room. I made my way down the hall and pushed open the door. He was having a nightmare and was twisted up in the sheets. I turned the light on and nudged him awake; he quickly sat up in bed.

  He sat looking around the room while wearing his exhaustion on his face, hand on his head and another hand under his shirt in the neighborhood of his scar. When he brought his hand away from his head, I noticed a small piece of paper fall from his hand and land on the sheet. I reached for it, and he didn’t put up a fight. It was a photo of Sydney and Anthony sitting outside on the patio. The picture’s edges were tattered and slightly curved, as if it’s been in his hands nonstop during the past few days. He held his shaky hand out and I set it back in his palm.

  I watched him for a few moments. I wasn’t sure what the best thing to say was. He was a mess and has been slipping further downhill since Friday. He was vulnerable, and I think that might be what’s bringing these nightmares to surface. Understandably, he hasn’t been sleeping much. He at least looked coherent which was an improvement from earlier in the evening.

  “Anth,” I started but he cut me off.

  “I miss her so much, Matt,” hearing the anguish in his voice caught me off guard. I’d hug him and offer comfort if I thought he’d let me.

  He played with the corners of the picture as his face held pain and sorrow. All of which were things that weren’t common for us to see on him. I sat down on the bed and leaned forward over my knees. This was a tough conversation. The situation fucking sucked, and we were all helpless. Colin and Anthony have been brought to their knees, and they keep getting worse with each passing hour.

  “I know, Anth. Everyone misses her and wants her back. We just have to think positive.”

  “Each time I shut my eyes, I see one of those fucked up pictures from that asshole.”

  The pictures had been disturbing. Paul was fucking with their heads, and God only knows what he was doing with Sydney. We knew she wasn’t doing well because we’ve seen some photos. I didn’t think Paul was a killer and refused to let myself think that he may kill her. But then again, I never ever pegged him as an abductor.

  “You calmed down from that nightmare?” I asked and turned to look at him.

  He nodded but continued to grasp his blanket that had “sunshine” stitched on it. Those blankets have provided much needed comfort to Anthony and Colin. They smelled like Sydney and would comfort them to sleep some.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb, Anth, and ask you if you want to talk about it.”

  “Not really. I’m sure that’s no surprise to you.”

  I smiled. I felt like he was coming around. Maybe he just needed to get back home and around Colin. All weekend he hadn’t been here, and I think that disconnected him some. Seeing the tension leave Colin’s face when Anthony came home made me realize how much he calmed Colin. Anthony clung to Colin in an embrace when he arrived tonight. I’m worried about Anthony though. He’s been freezing up when anyone else touches him or else he moves away, but he’s okay with Colin.

  “But I’ll talk to you about it, Matt. I don’t remember much.”

  I was surprised that he was volunteering to talk and sat up so he knew he had my complete attention. What possibly made up Anthony’s nightmare would interest me greatly.

  “It was a weird dream. My step-dad and Paul were there. They took turns hitting me.” He frowned as if trying to recall something. “I don’t think I was bound, but I couldn’t move.” His eyes were rapidly moving as he struggled to pull more from his memory. “Sydney was there, and she was crying. She was bloody and begging for me to help her, and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get away from my step-dad and Paul.” He looked up at me with a tormented expression. “What does that mean?”

  “Anthony, it doesn’t mean anything that you are afraid of it meaning. It just means that your mind is stressed, and it’s pulling old shit up and blending it with a current shitty situation. That’s all.”

  He nodded and laid back down, still with his hand under his shirt on his scar. I knew it meant he was ready to try to go back to sleep. He called after me before I left the room though.

  “Matt, don’t tell Colin about my dream. It’ll upset him, and he’s got too much shit going on.”

  “Colin is worried about you, Anth. He’d want to know so he can talk to you and listen.”

  He started to shake his head but stopped and held it. I knew that throbbing pain was bothersome for him. I gave into him and nodded that I wouldn’t bring it up.

  19

  Tuesday, January 14th

  Anthony

  Body aches that rivaled what I remembered from my youth woke me up close to 7:30 a.m. I slowly sat up and leaned against a stack of pillows and searched the bed for the picture of Sydney. I missed her so fucking much.

  I heard Colin across the hall in his office on the phone. I was trying to figure out whom he might be talking to by what he was saying and figured out it was Mitch from work. Fuck work. I can’t even think about work, but I needed to get up and try to be helpful. I headed upstairs to our room to take a shower and get dressed. I was forced to walk slowly because each step I took caused pain to radiate through my body. I finally made it to our room and stopped at the foot of the bed. Wait. It wasn’t our room. Without Sydney, there was nothing. I swallowed hard at the thought and glanced around the room as I made my way to the bathroom.

  I bit the inside of my mouth as I carefully pulled my tee shirt off. My body was tender and I hurt everywhere. That fucking sadist. Hooking my thumbs inside my pajama pants, I pushed them down to my mid thighs and used my feet to step on the pant legs to assist me with climbing out of them.

  I stood under the shower spray and automatically washed myself. I didn’t allow myself any time to dwell over all of the sore places on my body as I washed. I refused to look at much of my body and instead thought about something pleasant like showers with Sydney.

  Showers with Sydney were some of my favorites, and I missed them with her. I miss the way she’d clean me and touch me. She was so shy in the beginning but really was starting to come into her own. She had become more confident and she wasn’t afraid to reach out and playfully stroke me in the shower. I loved the way she’d p
ick my dick up to wash under it or the balls. Sydney was a flirt, too. She’d give Colin and I this look that translated to, “I want you to fuck me in the shower, but I’m too shy to ask.” I eyed her shower sponge and her vanilla shower gel and noticed how my chest clenched.

  I missed sleeping with her. I never thought I’d ever find someone that I was comfortable with lying next to me. She gave herself to Colin and I and never complained if we took her in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning. She gave herself completely to us, and she trusted us to take care of her.

  The intimacy we shared just by being next to one another, naked in bed, was incredible. She’d always fall asleep at night with her head on my shoulder, and her hand would always play in my chest hair. Most nights, she’d stroke my balls. She wasn’t doing it to be sexual or to try to start something. She just did it to be close. I loved the way she’d pet my balls. I had never been touched by such caring, loving hands.

  I realized I had stretched my arms out and leaned on them in the shower to keep me from falling. My whole body ached, and my stomach was starting to act up. Suddenly, I felt really warm, weak, and sick to my stomach. I quickly rinsed and barely made it out of the shower before I threw up. Fuck me. What the hell was that all about?

  I stared at myself in the mirror and couldn’t stand the sight. I hadn’t shaved yesterday; I had dark circles and bags under my eyes, and my face looked drawn. My body looked like a punching bag and now was mostly black, blue, and deep purple. I glanced at the marks on my sides and on my neck. I shook my head at what appeared to be welts from a cane. They were harder to pick out though because much of my abdomen was covered in black, blue, and purple skin. But I could feel them. They were there. I ran my fingers over some abrasions and bruising around my wrists from the cuffs. An image flashed in my head of seeing the cuffs wrapped around the leg of my couch. I frowned and dropped my hands to my side and looked myself in the eye in the mirror. Fuck, no wonder Blake is up in arms. I was temporarily distracted by handprints and bruising on my sides and gave into the curiosity and looked at them closer. At further examination, I realized on each of my sides there were bruised imprints of fingers. When I turned to glance over my shoulder at my back in the mirror, I could make out one bruised imprint on each side in the back. “Fuck! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I whispered as I looked and pieced fragments together. Nope. I wasn’t going there. I couldn’t and wouldn’t.