Pucking Obsessed (Bay Rebels #4)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Freedom Mansion, Captain’s Hall

D ’Angelo

“Do you know how much power you have over me?” Heine’s voice rises through the fog in my mind. It’s soft and reverent. “What’s so special about you, Jude D’Angelo? You’re handsome and talented. But so what? I’m prettier and wealthier too. But there’s something about you… You’re my entire world. You’re all I can think about. I can’t eat or sleep. You’re the one who got away. Not this time. Isn’t that what everybody dreams about? Having someone who loves them so much that they’ll do anything for their second chance? To keep them and never let them go?”

Someone is stroking my cheek.

I feel sick.

To keep them and never let them go…

Then I feel someone doing up buttons at my neck. Why are they dressing me like a doll?

Why can’t I move?

Why the fuck can’t I move my arms and legs?

Slowly, I rise back to full consciousness.

My mouth is dry. The back of my head throbs. Dread curdles my stomach at an unknown threat.

Am I still in the scene with Heine? Is it Halloween…?

Then a flash shot memory hits me: Shay kneeling in front of me next to Robyn in the woods, desperately yelling red as I realize that something is wrong with his responses, then dropping to my knees in terror and shaking Shay who has fallen unconscious, before finally passing out myself…

I deliberately hold myself still.

Rage wars inside me, along with panic and fear.

It must have been Heine.

What the hell does he want? Why is he doing this to me? And what the fuck has he done to Shay and Robyn?

My heart speeds up at the image of Shay, unmoving beneath me on the wood’s floor. He’s never still. The way that his face fell slack flooded me with terror.

Shay shouldn’t be forced to stillness.

I hate myself now for all the times that I’ve grumpily snapped at him for his hyperactivity, when he’s broken vases by bouncing around the kitchen.

I’d give anything to see Shay tossing a football around the lounge, dangerously close to my piano, rather than remembering him lying lifeless.

Was Robyn affected as well?

Are they also waking up now? Have they been able to call for an ambulance? The cops?

If my lovers are hurt, then I don’t care that Heine is a billionaire or the boss who holds the power over my career and life.

I’ll fucking destroy him.

I’m lying on my back. Something rough like rope is wound around my wrists.

My heart is beating too fast. It hurts to breathe. My lungs are burning.

I struggle hard not to tip into a panic attack.

Being on the receiving end of bondage is a hard limit for me. Heine is aware of that. Even with my consent, it wouldn’t feel pleasurable.

Panic claws at the back of my throat.

I can’t bear being restrained like this.

Memories flood over me of how I came around as a teenager at night in bed surrounded by three strange men. They were yelling at me, before they dragged me out of bed and tied my hands behind my back with plastic handcuffs.

I was terrified and screaming.

Then my own parents and older brother let these men kidnap me and throw me into a van. I only then learned that I was being driven to a discipline school.

It was the most traumatic night of my life.

“I know that you’re awake,” Heine says, sounding amused. “I saw your finger twitch. Are we playing games already? Don’t be boring, Sir.”

I wince.

Slowly, I open my eyes. Then I suck in a sharp breath.

I’m lying on the crinkled black plastic of the large bed in the middle of the basement playroom in my own Freedom Mansion.

Fury washes through me.

It’s not enough to kidnap me. Heine needs to violate the private space of my own home as well.

There are no windows in this vast underground space.

The bed has a metal headboard with bondage points, a wooden pillory at the end, and a cage underneath. The room is filled with bondage furniture, including a St. Andrew’s cross, racks, and cabinets that hold my BDSM equipment. The floor is black and rubber. The roof sparkles, as if with stars.

The walls are white with large mirrors and LED light strips, which can be set to different colors to match the mood that I’m going for.

Now, Heine has set them to red.

The room is laid out as it was, during my short scene with Heine.

It has to be deliberate.

“Don’t call me, Sir ,” I growl. “You haven’t earned that right. Plus, is it boring if I strangle you?”

I struggle to sit up but I can hardly raise my head off the pillow.

“Breath play. You know that I’d enjoy that.” Heine is perched on the side of the bed next to me.

“I’m not playing, Charles. I never was. Untie me.”

Heine rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

He pushes his honey hair out of his face. He has deep shadows under his eyes. He’s only dressed in feathery white wings and a loin cloth.

The outfit looks familiar.

I struggle to focus through the fuzziness in my mind. My temples are throbbing. I clench my teeth.

Then it hits me.

It’s the waiter’s outfit from the Halloween event at Rebel House.

“You spiked our drinks.” I stare at Heine.

For the first time, I realize that this isn’t the Charles that I knew when I was a new dom. I’m not the same, after all. I’ve grown up and changed. I’ve been changed by my love for Robyn and Shay.

I don’t know exactly what Heine has been through, although I can guess. He was already on a dark path, when I banned him from my fetish events, along with my friends’ ones. He’s spent years running the country’s top businesses, while living as an outcast to the community.

I shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that he’s the same young sub who needs my protection.

I never should have made that mistake.

Heine crawls toward me.

His gaze becomes hooded, but his eyes are still flat and dead. His sensual act is as fake as everything else about him.

When he leans over me to do up a final button, I struggle not to flinch.

I don’t want him touching me.

“You look incredible in this.” Heine appears pleased with himself. “Your other outfit was cheap and tacky like everything to do with your little club. Now you’re suitably dressed to be seen with me.”

Dazed, I make an effort to drop my head and look down at myself.

Shit.

My eyes blaze.

Heine has dressed me in the Gothic, black leather devil costume with wide gray wings and forked tail that he’d left out for me in 1001 Fantasies.

The one that I’d deliberately not accepted.

He’s stripped me. Touched me. Dressed me like a doll.

Does he understand what he’s doing?

When my gaze flies to Heine’s, he’s watching me like I’m the sun in the same way that he used to.

Only, now I don’t believe that it’s sincere.

Yet the combination of shadows underneath his cornflower blue eyes and the shake in his hands as his pushes his hair out of his face tells me that he’s broken.

He needs help. He’s also dangerous.

“Where are Shay and Robyn?” I demand.

“Boring.”

“Answer me or I won’t talk to you,” I say, icily.

Ignoring a sub like Heine is the worst punishment in the world.

He can’t cope with it. He needs attention.

“They’re safe,” Heine replies hurriedly like I’ve put a gun to his head. Useful to know that I do have power in this room. I’m going to need to use it. “But only if you play.”

I study Heine, trying to assess if he’s telling the truth.

His expression is shuttered.

What if Heine’s locked Shay and Robyn up somewhere?

Shay will be triggered by being trapped in a room like he was when he was a kid.

At least he’ll be together with Robyn.

“You don’t need them,” I insist. “You want me. You have me. Let the other two go, and I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

Heine settles himself next to me on the bed, cross-legged. “Interesting. Would you sacrifice yourself for any of the players and staff?”

“Of course. I’m the captain.”

Heine leans down, letting his hair cascade over my face. “Sure. You always did look out for people. You liked to hide how kind you were behind your icy lone wolf mask.”

“And you liked to hide how ruthless you were behind your sweet kitten mask.”

“Then we’re both smart.” Heine smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

The horned mask rests on the pillow next to me, along with the fiery whip.

I shake with the need to grab that whip and use it on Heine.

Except, that’s what he wants.

“But are you happy?” I narrow my eyes. “With your fleet of private jets, Van Goghs, and private island? You could be doing anything but you’re here, messing with my life. What happened? We had a deal. You weren’t meant to contact me again. You should have been hands-off with the club.”

Heine leans over me like a corrupted angel. His wings flap. He grabs me by the shoulders and helps me to sit up.

When he takes the time to readjust the pillows behind my back, it seems that he’s delaying in order to calculate his answer.

Heine appears casual and like his answers are throwaway. But the truth lies in his shark-like eyes.

He doesn’t make a move without thinking it out. I should have paid more attention to that.

Heine was my responsibility back then and this situation is mine now. I should never have dragged anyone else into it.

I believed that defying Heine would make him back off.

I was wrong.

I’ve spent years appeasing authority figures: my parents, the teachers at the discipline school, and coach.

I’ve been conditioned to.

No fucking way was I adding Heine, even if he’s my boss, to that list.

I thought that I could stand up against his manipulations and control. I never believed that he’d go this far.

Stalkers, huh?

“You know that I’m not happy.” Heine grips my chin, forcing me to turn and meet his intense gaze. “I’ve watched you, the puck boy, drinking and fucking your way through the scene. It looks like a cry for help.”

“So does drugging and kidnapping your employees.”

“Why don’t we help each other then?”

“Pass.”

Heine tightens his hold on my chin. “It was hard, Sir, but I worked to get over you. Then this season started, and you were all I saw. Then you were all I wanted to see: winning games, interviews, scandals, and on viral social media posts. Not to mention that tacky Bay Rebels website. I have to say that I enjoyed going to sleep with a different photograph of you beside me each night. I could tell that you made those specially for me.”

My expression tightens.

My new success has led to this.

Heine has taken Robyn and Eden’s PR campaign to heart. It has fed his obsession, just like it has with the Misfits.

This is the other side of fame’s coin.

It’s dark and terrifying.

I surreptitiously test the ropes. Heine’s knots aren’t expert. If my muscles weren’t weak, I’d be able to break them.

Does Heine have someone else helping him? If I overpower him, will he hurt Robyn and Shay?

I deliberately relax back, pretending to give in.

I won’t risk the two people who I love and swore to protect.

I’d die for my principessa and cucciolo.

Heine rests his hand over mine, trying to entangle our fingers. I shudder at the sensation, as he links our hands like he’s my boyfriend.

Then he leans closer and whispers, hot and intimate, “I saw what you were doing with those bitches in the wood.”

Fuck.

If Heine saw that, then he has more leverage over us.

He could wreck us.

I jolt, attempting to pull away, but Heine holds me in place. “Don’t—”

“It’s okay.” Heine keeps me pinned. “I forgive you. You’re back where you should be with me. We can have our own Halloween. My prince of devils . This will be fun.”

He’s delusional .

When I squeeze Heine’s hand back to the point of pain, he grimaces but doesn’t let go. “Last time wasn’t fun.”

“Don’t be boring, Sir.” Heine scrunches up his nose. “I’m a better sub than that trash player from the club. Don’t you think that I could tell he was both kneeling and bending over for you the moment that I saw you together at the arena? Why would you want a bad sub like him, who you need to discipline with black eyes, when you could have a good sub like me?”

“I’ve never hurt Shay,” I growl. “I’ve never harmed any sub.”

Heine shrugs. “You can harm me if I deserve it.”

I feel sick. “And that’s why I wouldn’t play with you. You’ll get yourself killed some day.”

“Where’s the thrill of life without risk?”

I shake my head. “You have a death wish.”

“Not if I’m with you.” A sly smile creeps onto his lips. I recognize it and wish that I didn’t. He blinks his long lashes, letting go of my hand to push himself onto his knees. “How about a deal? I’ll let you play your silly, little game tomorrow and save your career along with your coach’s with the board. Then you’ll move back here with me. You’ll need to convince my dad. You once promised that you would.”

“You want to fucking negotiate?” My voice is frosty. “Normally, it doesn’t begin with tying someone up.”

“I find that it greatly strengthens my negotiation position,” Heine replies with a nasty laugh that makes my stomach drop.

He’s done this before .

Possibly, not exactly this.

But I’m not the first person that Heine has used his influence and power to coerce. That’s why he’s so calm.

Except, if he thinks that I’ll be rattled, crying, and broken, then he’s going to be disappointed. Because this isn’t my first time being threatened and menaced.

Or even the second, third, or fourth time.

Wilder did worse to me than this, when he hazed me at college.

Heine thinks that he knows me but he doesn’t. He believes that I’m merely some playboy player. He has no idea the darkness that I’ve survived.

My worry is that Shay and Robyn aren’t all right. I’d have already found a way to overpower Heine, despite my weakness (I’ve learned a number of methods in my dom training), if it wasn’t for the fear that someone else is holding my lovers.

I won’t gamble with their lives.

If Heine wants one night with me, then I’ll endure that. I simply need to remind him that there’s the important game tomorrow.

That’s my chance to escape.

He has to let me go for that, right?

“Aren’t you old enough now to talk to your dad yourself?” I question.

A shadow crosses Heine’s face. “I’m older, but Dad hasn’t changed. Don’t you remember what he’s like?”

“I do. What excuse am I going to make?” I can play along that we’re going to play house. “I could say that as owner of the Bay Rebels, you want to stay and learn more about the industry, since the season is going well. I’ll tell him that I’ve offered my home to you.”

Heine’s expression softens. His shoulders slump with relief.

He runs his fingers through the ash gray of my costume’s wing like it’s my hair. “That works. I’d lie awake at night, you know, fantasizing that we’d meet, and you’d say: you’re not leaving; I’m keeping you safe here with me . Yet you never did.”

My throat is tight.

Because there were some days when Heine and I were friends, and I’d see the bruised mess that he was in, when those words were on the tip of my tongue.

Faced with someone who was being hurt, whether it was by their dom, partner, or parent, I could never walk on by.

Heine wasn’t something special. Yet I made him feel like he was.

Has anyone else cared about him? Cared that he was hurting?

“I’m sorry,” I say, quietly.

I’m not sorry that I didn’t choose to take Heine on as my sub. I’m sorry that I didn’t work out a way to help him earlier.

I am also sorry, however, that my fumbled early attempts at being a good friend, at a time when I was barely equipped to look after myself, have led him to fixate on me as his savior.

Heine pales, staring at me in shock. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying sorry?”

It’s the first genuine thing that he’s said.

I cock my brow. “That depends. What are you apologizing for?”

His gaze skitters from mine. “Our last scene. I pushed the boundaries…”

“You broke them. Just like you are now. I promise not to leave this room, if you take the rope off my wrists.”

“Well, if you promise…” Heine’s voice is back to its casual, sarcastic drawl.

The moment of genuine connection is lost.

Heine pushes himself off the bed, running his hand with a look of longing over the wooden pillory.

Then he looks down at me, biting his lip. “What does it feel like to be loved?”

I blink. “What?”

Is this another game? Ploy for sympathy? Manipulation?

Yet he hasn’t asked: What does it feel like to be in love?

Instead, to be loved .

Before Robyn and Shay, I’d have asked the same question.

I had never been in a genuine relationship before. I loved Robyn since college, but she’d chosen to marry Wilder.

I never trusted myself in another relationship.

Sex isn’t emotional.

It’s not love.

My sister may love me. I’m not sure. She was at least in my corner enough to save me from the discipline school.

Yet she was much older than me. Growing up, we weren’t close.

On the other hand, as a kid, I was loved by my parents, even if it turned out not to be real.

Heine doesn’t have a mom, however, and his dad is a fucking monster.

Has anyone loved the little shit?

My chest tightens. “Why?”

Heine lets out a frustrated breath. “It looked nice. I mean, the way that your two pets were looking up at you in the wood, it was like they loved you. It must feel incredible to be adored.”

I often wondered if Heine was naturally a dominant. It’s why he needs to be in control and tries to run scenes.

Perhaps, he’s only looking for a dominant because he doesn’t understand that he can be safe without one.

He’s a complex man.

“It’s the best feeling in the world,” I reply, carefully. “But only if you know that you deserve it. Then it’s real. Part of that is putting their needs first. Do you understand why you can’t hurt my pets?”

Heine looks unusually serious. “I won’t.”

My eyes close in relief.

I take a steadying breath, before steeling myself. Then with all my strength, I drag myself to the edge of the bed. My muscles are trembling, but I manage it.

I’m regaining my strength.

Excellent.

Heine strolls to stand in front of me. “How are you feeling, Sir?”

I try to hide my wince on the Sir . “Thirsty.”

Heine crouches to pick up a water bottle from a tray on the side, which is filled with snacks and drinks.

He truly has planned to keep us here all night.

I try to take the open bottle, but Heine shakes his head, holding it to my mouth. Gently, he tips it back.

I take a couple of swigs of the water, before pulling away.

Water runs down my chin.

I clear my throat, which feels much better now.

“Hungry?” Heine asks.

I shake my head.

I’ll hurl if I eat anything.

Heine places down the water, then fluidly kneels in front of me.

It’s a practiced move that would impress most doms. He holds his hands behind his back at the elbow, which pushes out his chest. His head is bowed, and his eyes are sweetly downcast.

It should scream submission.

I’d have been tricked by it once.

But not now.

Never again.

Because it’s clever but fake.

Even though Heine’s cheeks are flushed and his position is perfect, the other cues aren’t there. There’s no shortness of breath, change in his breathing pattern, or hardness underneath his loin cloth.

I can see enough of his eyes underneath his lashes to see how cool they are.

How calculating.

This is an act for my sake.

This isn’t like Shay’s raw, exciting, pleasured submission.

Shay may not know a single learned position, but I’d take his natural submission every time.

“Hurt me, Sir,” Heine whispers.

“Red,” I reply, coldly.

In an instant, Heine drops his mask.

He scrambles up to his feet, shoving me onto my back and slamming his hands down onto my wings.

He pins me underneath him like an Archangel defeating Lucifer. “Have you forgotten who I am? I could have any dom in the country.”

“Then have them. You can’t have me.”

“Why?” Heine pushes his finger hard against my chest on each word. I grit my teeth against the pain. “Because you’re too weak to handle me? Tame me? Because you’re not a real dom ? Not a real man?”

Rage ignites through me.

I burn to shove Heine off me and show him with every piece of equipment just how much I can tame him, until he’s a sobbing mess.

Except, he’s pushing my buttons in order to get me to hurt him. It’s what he wants.

He’ll only be excited if I react, become angry, or lash out.

Possibly, it’s all he knows.

I’m not going to give the asshole what he wants.

“No,” I say more calmly than before, “because you’re a self-destructive, entitled brat who has no idea of his limits and will one day say those things to the wrong person and end up murdered. Not a real dom? A real dominant cares about communication, consent, and building trust. We don’t have any of that. You don’t have a fucking clue what it means to be submissive. Even if I wasn’t in love with other people, I’d never take you as a sub. You’re not safe. You need therapy and not a dom.”

Heine stumbles back from me like I have in fact hit him.

His expression flashes with hurt.

I don’t regret what I said. It’s all true. I wish that I’d had the balls to say it to him, when I’d been his friend.

“How dare you?” Heine snatches up the fiery whip that coils on the pillow like a security blanket, hugging it to his chest. “I’m the one in—”

“Control?” I drawl. “The point of submission is to give that up, or had you forgotten? Look, Charles, we’re not a good fit. We never were. This fantasy — what you’re trying here — is pretend. What you’re feeling—”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling.” Heine’s hand is shaky, as he wipes away tears.

His tears are real. The only thing tonight that is.

My expression gentles. “I’m not denying that what you feel is real to you. But this relationship that you’re trying to create between us…? This dream, where you live with me as boyfriends…? It’s not.”

“It’s real,” Heine whispers.

I push myself back up to face him.

Am I finally getting through to him?

This is my chance.

I take a deep breath.

“You’re not even good at pretending that it is.” I fix him with a piercing stare, and he shrinks back. “If you’re scared that I’ll destroy you over this, I swear that I won’t, as long as Shay and Robyn are unharmed. We can deescalate this.”

Unexpectedly, Heine’s expression hardens. “ Shay and Robyn, Shay and Robyn… Do you know how boring you sound always going on about them? You’re mine and you will love me. If I’m not good enough now, you can discipline me. Teach me how to be.”

I sigh.

Well, I tried.

It’s no good. Heine is not going to accept the truth.

My head is throbbing worse, and I don’t want to risk saying anything else that’ll make him angrier at my lovers.

Instead, I struggle to push myself around, until I’m facing away from Heine.

The only way that I can fight back is by ignoring Heine. He’ll hate the silent treatment worse than anything.

“What are you…?” Heine hisses. “Turn back around.”

He snatches at my shoulder, but I resist.

I don’t answer.

“I said, turn around.”

Huh, didn’t take Heine long to start issuing commands.

Tying me up, handfeeding me water, and ordering me around.

It’s like Heine believes that he’s the dom in this room.

I grimace.

I hate this.

I fucking hate this.

I resist by simply not responding.

It’s effective.

Heine slams the whip thudding onto the bed beside me; I force myself not to startle. “Don’t ignore me.”

My lips quirk up at the side.

Fuck. You.

Then I jolt forward with a gasp of pain, as the whip cracks down, lighting a line of fire across my back.

There’s no pleasure for me, only intense pain.

Heine grabs my curls, yanking back my head. “If you won’t hurt me, then I’ll hurt you.”