by Loki Renard
“Go to your room,” he said. “I have to talk to Mark about this.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Bobby growled. “I’m not your kid or your charity case. I’m a grown fucking man.”
“You are,” Damien agreed. “And you’re going to get kicked out of here just like a grown man if you don’t watch yourself.”
“Wait…” Mark tried to intervene.
It was too late. The famous Vitali temper was already flaring, and Bobby leaped from the couch, suddenly sober with anger.
“You can’t kick me out! I’m leaving! And I’m not fucking coming back. Next time you see me, you’ll pay for this, you boring fucker!”
Bobby stormed across the room and slammed the door behind him. Damien took a deep breath and nodded. Fine. If he had to deal with Bobby another way, he’d deal with Bobby another way.
Fuck. This was getting out of control, and it was stupid. Mark ached to give Bobby what he needed, and he ached for what he needed too. None of them were happy in this situation.
“What are you doing?” Damien asked the question as Mark put his coat on and grabbed his shoes.
“I’m going to look for him,” Mark said. “He’s intoxicated and upset. I don’t want him getting arrested or worse.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go get him, bring him back here, and strap his ass with my belt until he learns his goddamn lesson.”
“Just leave him. He’s a big boy.”
“No.” A rare expression of honest frustration passed over Mark’s handsome all-American features. “He’s not… you don’t get it. He needs more than what we’re giving him. It’s not about whether it’s right to kick his ass or not. It’s what he fucking needs.”
“So we should abuse him?”
Damien’s temper was flaring, just like Mark’s. They faced one another down, nostrils flaring
“It’s not abuse. Kicking him out into the night, that’s abuse!”
Mark went after Bobby, slamming the apartment door behind him.
A second later, having turned off the stove, Damien followed.
Together they made for a convoy of angry bristling men dashing into the city night.
15
“MARK!”
“What?”
“Slow down!” Damien jogged to catch up with Mark.
“Can’t. He’s getting away.” Mark kept striding down the street. Bobby was a dark dot in the distance. It looked like he was trying to hail a cab. Mark had a feeling deep in his gut that if he let Bobby get away now, he’d never see him again.
“Mark…” Damien put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Let him go.”
“What?”
Damien’s expression was somewhat pitying. “You can’t save him from himself. He wants Angelo. You have to let him go. That chapter of your life is over now,” Damien said gently. “We can move forward. You and I.”
“I guess.” Mark’s reluctance was obvious.
“Tell you what. I’m going to take a hiatus from work, and we’re going to travel,” he said. “We’ll see the world, leave this shitty city behind.”
That kind of sounded nice, but Mark wasn’t feeling it. He forced a smile, knowing Damien wanted him to be happy. Why wasn’t he happy? What the fuck was wrong with him? He had a hot boyfriend, the chance to see the world, and more freedom than he knew what do to with. So why was there an aching void inside him?
“I don’t deserve you,” he said with a sad smile.
“Yes, you do. And one of these days, you’re going to figure that out,” Damien smiled. “I came for you for a reason, Mark. I’m not ever going to let you go.”
Every word out of Damien’s mouth was like an arrow laced with guilt direct to Mark’s soul. Damien was standing right in front of him, so fucking hot it made Mark ache with longing sometimes. He had everything he should need - but he wanted more. And right now, he needed to follow Bobby.
16
It wasn’t that hard to chase Bobby down. The boy stayed on foot and zig-zagged between blocks and buildings, keeping a decent distance ahead of them, but always staying in their eye line until finally he darted down an alley way.
Damien and Mark came up short a minute later. Bobby was in the alley. But he wasn’t alone. There was a black BMW M5, and a tall man lit to devastating effect by ill-reflected streetlight.
“Holy shit, Mark swore. “Angelo!”
“How are you out?” Damien demanded.
“I’ve been out for two weeks,” Angelo said. “You’re not the only one who can cut deals, Mr Colt. You didn’t think I was actually going to serve a life sentence, did you? You’re not that naive, surely.”
“You’re going to end up back behind bars sooner or later, I know that much,” Damien growled. He did not like where this was going. He didn’t like that he hadn’t known. It must have been one hell of a deal for Angelo to be out like this.
“I don’t think so,” Angelo said, running his fingers across Bobby’s cheek in a tender caress, before drawing him close. “You see, you’re not the only one who knows how to lie, or to pretend to be something he’s not.”
“So you were lying to us all along, Bobby?”
Bobby smirked, then his face fell and he made a sniffling sound. “I’m just so evil,” he fake cried. “I wish I could be rehabilitated!” He burst into laughter and a bright smile. “You’re dumb as fuck, Martha.”
“And you’re a little sociopath,” Damien declared as Bobby pressed close to Angelo’s side, his dark eyes satisfied and pleased.
“Oh no, Martha called me a mean word,” Bobby sneered. “I hope you don’t get really mad at me and make me a hot chocolate.”
Angelo’s smile broadened. Oh this fucker was enjoying this meeting. It had all been orchestrated, Damien was sure of that. Angelo wouldn’t be allowed within range of his house, but if he drew him out into a semi-public place he could do as he pleased.
“So what,” Damien snarled. “You’re going to shoot us? Leave us to die in an alley?”
“Oh no,” Angelo tutted. “I have a deal for you, Mr Colt.”
“What’s that?”
“We could spend the next twenty years tearing each other apart, sending each other to jail, breaking into one another’s homes, torturing each other, and all the rest of it, but I think that would be a waste of our collective time,” Angelo said. “I propose a truce.”
“That would mean a lot more if you weren’t a psychotic liar.”
“I know,” Angelo said with a half-rueful smile, but you’re alive, and that should count for something. I bear you no ill-will, Mark. You paid me back in kind for what I did to you.”
Mark nodded. His smile was tight and Damien knew that he was battling a lot of emotion. Maybe he was going to win after all. Maybe Mark was going to finally say goodbye to Angelo.
Angelo held out his hand. Mark shook it, then raised his fingers to Bobby, his voice choked with emotion.
“Bye Bobby.”
“See you, Mark.”
They smiled at one another and went their separate ways.
THE EN…
Untitled
“Oh… Mark?”
Damien turned around as Angelo called Mark’s name.
“I think we’ve had our fun. It’s time Mr Colt paid his dues.”
“What?” Damien laughed and looked over his shoulder at Mark. Suddenly, there was a gun in Mark’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Mark said. He didn’t look sorry. He looked… fuck. He looked fucking evil. His bright blue eyes were lit with reflected moonlight, his handsome face displayed to perfection in the silver glow. Mark was one of the sexiest men Damien had ever met, but in that moment he was elevated to another level.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s going on, Damien, is I know how to instill loyalty. I know how to break men. And I don’t need to shoot them to do it.”
“You’ll have to shoot me if you want to take me,” Damien declared. “I�
�m not fucking…”
A sting in the side of his neck heralded a needle pushed into his vein, a good dose of tranquilizer dumped directly into his bloodstream. He was conscious for another second. Not even long enough to swear.
17
“He’s going to hate me.”
Mark was troubled. Betraying Damien had been inevitable and necessary. Angelo was never, ever going to simply let them walk away from that meeting. Mark had known it, and he was fairly certain Damien must have known it on some level too.
“Yes,” Angelo said, squeezing Mark’s shoulder. “He will hate you. As you and Bobby hate me. That hatred will bond him to you more strongly than any kind of saccharine love. If tempered with discipline, it will become a bond like no other. Do not make the mistake of being kind. He will view it as weakness. Now that he is caught, he will panic worse than you or Bobby did. He will reject you and me and everything about this life. But stay firm. Let him fight himself out of energy. He will break in the end. They all do.”
“I don’t know if Damien will. He’s not like me.”
“He’s an assassin,” Angelo said. “One who fell head over heels for a lover he had years ago. He’s lonely and he’s vicious. He is exactly like you, and like Bobby, and like me. And he knows it. But this is the way of our family. Nobody wants to join my house. In fact, not wanting to be a Vitali is a pre-requisite for becoming one.”
“He shot you, Angelo. And he kicked your ass.”
“He got rough with me. We will get rough with him,” Angelo smiled, calm. Mark had never seen his lover so happy. After all the stress of the many investigations, Damien had reset Angelo’s world. Dry paperwork and long court proceedings would have killed Angelo quicker than any bullet ever could, Mark figured.
18
Damien looked up. Angelo was on one side, Mark on the other. He was strapped down on a bed, his legs and arms starfished and bound, his hips positioned on a wedge pillow which put his genital region in a totally vulnerable place.
His heart began to hammer in his chest as he realized the danger he was in. The Vitali investigation was closed. None of them were wanted - and he wasn’t exactly on the radar either. At Mark’s request, he’d taken an extended leave of absence from the agency. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. At the time, it had seemed like such a good idea. They’d have the chance to travel, to experience once in a lifetime carefree romance.
And now he was tied up in a basement, between highly dangerous men who had serious axes to grind. This was not going to end well. Damien felt fear creeping through him. He didn’t want to be scared, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t like Angelo. He didn’t crave death. He wanted to live. More than anything.
“Hey there,” Mark said gently. He reached out and brushed a few strands of hair off Damien’s forehead.
“Mark… why?”
“It’s going to be okay,” Mark soothed. “This will only be as bad as you make it.”
Damien felt as though he was being ripped apart. Everything he’d done had been in service of saving Mark, and in the end, Mark hadn’t wanted to be saved. Their love was over. It had to be. Damien knew that his only chance now was to escape and never look back. These men weren’t just dangerous. They were twisted in a way he couldn’t understand.
Mark had looked him in the eye and told him that he loved him. Mark had promised to live a life together, to work at breaking Bobby free from Angelo, and taking down the remnants of Angelo’s network. But it had all been a lie.
“I know you hate me,” Mark said. “But one day you’re going to understand why this was necessary.”
“Fuck off,” Damien growled as anger took the place of sadness and fear. “Fuck you. You’re weak as hell. You chose him over me. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Shh, boy.”
It was Angelo’s voice which intruded on Damien’s anger. It served to scare him more. He tried to pull out of the ropes, but they were solid and squirming only made them pull tighter. There was no way out. He hated being naked like this. He could imagine what they were thinking as they looked at him.
“Mark,” he said, his face contorted, his tone pleading as he swung back into the realm of fear. “Don’t do this, okay? It’s not too late to let me go. I understand if you want to stay, but let me go.”
“It’s not as bad as you think,” Mark said, crouching down next to the bed, and taking Damien’s bound hand in his own. “It doesn’t even have to hurt after this first time if you just give in.”
“He won’t give in,” Angelo said. “He’s too proud, too brave, and too strong for that.”
Mark bowed his head, and Damien felt the despair emanating from his lover. Mark didn’t want to be doing this. He was being forced somehow. If he could just get Mark alone, maybe they could escape.
“Eyes on me,” Angelo said, his deep, accented tones suddenly more powerful than ever. Damien’s eyes went to him of their own accord.
“We did not meet on suitable terms, boy,” Angelo said. “You’ve been led to believe that I can be bested, because you were set on me like a dog. I don’t know who sent you, but I can tell you now, they did you both the greatest service of your life, and they destroyed everything you had before.”
“I got you,” Damien said.
“You did. And you wasted your advantage. I will not make the same mistake. I tried to train you, but you thought you knew better. Now you’ll learn, boy.”
Angelo reached back behind him and picked up a leather riding crop. Damien let out a short laugh of relief and surprise. A little leather lash wasn’t going to do fuck all to him. He knew what it was to be shot, seriously wounded. His naked torso bore the marks of several violent encounters.
“That’s what I’m supposed to be afraid of?”
“It’s not about the level of pain,” Angelo said softly. “It’s about the intensity of it. What it means to a man. You shot me, but there was no meaning to it. Hollow brutality has far less effect than what I will do to you.”
The leather began to trace over Damien’s chest, a feather soft touch across his bare skin.
“You thought it was about hurting me, but the pleasure is so important, Damien. If you don’t bring the pleasure, the pain means nothing.”
“Mark,” Damien whimpered, even as he started at Angelo.
“Relax,” Mark murmured.
How could he possibly relax? This was his nightmare. At the mercy of Angelo Vitali, and with the man he loved simply encouraging him to submit, Damien was utterly fucked.
“Please just let me go.” He hated that he was begging, but he had never been in a position like this before. In the military they were trained to resist interrogation, but Angelo wasn’t looking to extract information. With the triumphant gaze in his dark eyes, he looked more as if he was trying to extract Damien’s soul.
“I told you once that everything you did to me, I would do doubly to you,” Angelo purred.
“Uhmmm…”
“You shot me, Damien. And you had me thrown in jail. Separated from those I love. You tried to take Bobby from me, and you nearly did take Mark. They’re my family, boy. I warned you not to cross me, and yet you attacked me in the most primal of ways. Did you not take my warning seriously? Or were you so secure in your profession that you didn’t imagine I would ever have you this way?”
Hearing Angelo talk about family sent a chill through Damien. If Angelo was going to take revenge, Damien hoped it wouldn’t be on those who had the misfortune to be related to him.
“My family…”
“Are safe,” Angelo said. “Because I have you, and I intend to take every bit of your insolence out on you personally. Out of respect to Mark, I’ll even refrain from wounding you. Wouldn’t you say that was kind?”
“Uhhh…”
“Suddenly so incoherent,” Angelo smirked. “Let’s begin. Mark, clamp his nipples.”
Mark reached behind him and produced two chained clamps, small in size. They weren’t exactly wildly intimidating. The li
ttle clamp parts even had rubber tips, but even that flimsy little chain between them represented something he could feel in the air. He was captive, and he knew it to his marrow. Even if he somehow broke free of the ropes and ran, he would be leaving Mark behind. Mark was a tether to Angelo that Damien wouldn’t break.
“Mark…” Damien heard his voice crack.
“You’re going to like this,” Mark said. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but trust me, you’re going to enjoy it.”
Damien’s nipples were already erect with fear, so there was no difficulty for Mark to slip the purpose-made clips over the two buds. Damien felt two small pinches, which intensified as Mark dialed the clips into place, squeezing the sensitive buds. It didn’t hurt in the traditional sense of hurt, and Damien could easily withstand the pain, but there was something embarrassing about it. Everything about this situation was humiliating.
“Lust is what drives us,” Angelo purred. “You’re already beginning to feel it, aren’t you, Damien.”
It was true. The clamps on his nipples were sending traces of physical desire to other parts of his body. He didn’t want to get turned on. He wanted out of there, away from Angelo. Every nerve in his body was screaming for freedom, but there was no way out. He was tightly bound, at the mercy of a man who had no mercy in his soul.
“You’ve known pain, boy.” Angelo ran the tip of the crop over the scarring which was largely hidden on Damien’s belly. The surgeon had done a good job of sewing him back together in a way that followed the natural contours of his belly, and time had turned what were thick ugly marks into thin lines - but Angelo knew what they were, because Angelo knew everything.
“Yeah,” Damien said. “A bit.”
“You might think it’s ridiculous to torment you like this.” Angelo reached down and gave a light tug on the chain between the nipple clamps, sending more zaps of pleasure right to Damien’s dick. He was starting to get aroused, even though he really didn’t want to. He wanted to keep his desire between him and Mark, but this was confusing. Mark was right there, and Angelo was somehow part of him now.