Chapter 17 Reid
REID
While Niko’s preferred method of travel was his Harley-Davidson motorcycle, he also owned a souped-up truck that screamed, “I’ve got a small penis.”
If Reid didn’t know Niko, he would have thought that the man was trying to compensate for a lack of something else between the legs—but nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, Reid sometimes wondered how the women Niko fucked could survive taking all that Russian meat?
The thing was huge!
It was basically a battering ram that god had mistakenly stuck between Nikolai’s legs and called it a penis.
To be honest, when they first met, Reid was a little cock-shy when it came to comparison. Not that he had a small dick by any means, but compared to Nikolai’s, Reid’s dick was still a baby.
Reid adjusted his cock in his tight-as-fuck, mini—he still wasn’t sure what to call it.
Could one’s dick fall off due to a lack of blood flow to the member?
Was he even safe wearing this blasted thing?
Why did Niko buy him such a super-small swimsuit? And why the horrid colors? Was the dude secretly colorblind?
Reid glanced over at his former best friend—yes, he said “former” because no current best friend would ever allow him to wear such a hideous and tight-as-fuck bathing suit—and wondered what the evil man was up to.
“So, are we almost there?” Reid asked, arm resting on the window while he tried not to picture what his cock must look like—all squished up and unable to breathe.
The poor guy.
“Yeah. Ten more minutes, then we’ll be at the Watering Hole.”
“Watering Hole?” Reid asked, not quite sure what that was.
“It’s what we call it. It’s a tiny pond out in the middle of nowhere. It’s got a sandy beach and hills surrounding the water. Not many people know about it, so we usually come out here to swim and chill out on the weekends sometimes.”
“Why do you call it the Watering Hole?”
“'Cause it’s a shit-looking place. Ace once said that it looked like the kind of place you'd take a donkey to get some water.”
Reid chuckled.
“So are the guys meeting us there?” Reid asked, kind of disappointed if it wasn’t going to be just the two of them. He was enjoying all the one-on-one time that he was getting with his best friend, even if the man had no sense of fashion.
“They’ll join us later this afternoon. For now, it’s just us,” Niko explained, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
A few minutes later, they left the main road and took a dirt path that led straight to a body of water.
Although Reid might not have initially picked this place for relaxing and swimming, the rustic setting and secluded spot made it surprisingly perfect for a laid-back afternoon chill.
Exiting the truck, he took in a deep breath and enjoyed the fresh open air as it filled his lungs. One definitely didn’t get fresh air like this out in the city.
They unloaded the truck and laid out the blankets on the sand that Niko referred to as a beach.
The temperature was still a bit too cool for swimming, so they decided to wait until later in the day to take the plunge.
“So, when did you get the bull ring?” Nikolai asked, gesturing to his own nose but referring to the hoop dangling from under Reid’s.
“About six months after I…” His voice trailed off.
It was hard to talk about his past without giving Niko the details. Perhaps it was time.
“Escaped,” Reid finished.
Appearing to sense the change in Reid’s demeanor, Nikolai sat up on one arm and turned to face him.
It was time to tell Nikolai what really happened to him all those years ago.
The sound of a key sliding into the condo door woke Reid from his semiconscious sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately, mostly because he’d been struggling with thoughts of going back to using.
He’d been clean ever since he first met Mikhail, who had forced him to stop using. He needed his dick at full potential if he was going to be making mad money, as Mikhail had put it—the bastard conveniently left out the part where he would be taking ninety percent of his earnings.
But there were always moments, from time to time, when he remembered how easy it was to sniff a little coke or pop a little pill and quiet all the turmoil rolling around inside his head.
Having Niko around always seemed to help. Somehow, the giant Russian was always able to calm his mind and pull him out of his chaos.
But nights like tonight, when he was home alone with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, he missed it.
He missed the high.
That feeling of being pulled away and not having to think about his wretched life.
But he’d managed to stay clean for all these years, and he didn’t want Niko to see the person that he would become—the kind of guy who would allow a stranger to fuck him bare in a dark alley just so he could score a little cash to get him through to his next fix.
He wasn’t that man anymore, and he didn’t want Niko to see him that way.
He had to be strong.
He knew he couldn’t give in to those dark urges.
Mikhail would be furious. He didn’t want his guys strung out and unable to perform, as that would hurt his bottom line.
Plus, he didn’t trust the men working for Mikhail; it was clear they were trapped, working as sex machines to make their bosses rich, while trying to hold on to whatever dignity they had left.
Reid had realized the truth years ago. Niko, on the other hand, still appeared to believe that he would one day be allowed to leave once his “debt” was paid.
The poor guy still hadn’t realized that he’d been trafficked.
Mikhail and the others had no intention of ever letting them go.
They would force them to work day and night—using their bodies to make them rich until one day, when they were no longer of value, they either succumbed to a drug overdose or disappeared like so many others.
He pitied Niko. But was it really fair to destroy the illusion Niko had created for himself and the hope that still existed in those baby-blue eyes?
Hope was a powerful thing. Take that away, and what did you have left?
A dark, looming sense of nothingness.
A black hole.
Nothing but sadness and loneliness.
No. He would never subject his best friend to that sort of torment.
Instead, he had been secretly stockpiling his money, trying to save enough so that he and Niko could escape one day.
Soon.
He just had to be patient and strong and not give in to the dark thoughts currently clawing at his brain.
Reid heard the front door open.
“Niko?” he called out, wondering how his date had gone with that rich old widow. “Niko? How did it go?” Reid asked once again when there was no answer.
He hopped out of bed and walked toward his bedroom door.
His body froze.
It wasn’t Niko.
Entering his room was Mikhail, along with two of his goons.
This couldn’t be good.
“Mikhail. What’s this? What’s going on?” He tried to keep his voice steady, even though he was shaking inside.
“You’re being moved.”
“Moved? What do you mean, moved?” Reid asked, a sense of panic flooding his system.
His hands began to tremble, and it was suddenly getting hard to breathe.
Was this how it happened? Was this how he disappeared, never to be heard from again?
The panic began to spill over, and he could no longer control the shaking in his legs.
“You’ve been bought, and you're heading to Boston. You’re his property now,” Mikhail growled, signaling for his men to collect his property.
Reid’s eyes went wide as the two men moved toward him. One pulled a syringe from his jacket.
This was it. If he didn’t fight back now, he was a dead man.
Reid lunged forward, hoping he could somehow overpower them both and escape the condo before he was knocked out and delivered to whichever psycho believed that he could “buy” a person.
No such luck. Within seconds, he felt the needle jab into his neck, and everything around him went dark.
When he woke up, he found himself chained to the wall of a dimly lit room. He was lying on cold concrete, most likely in a basement somewhere.
Groggy and sore, he slowly sat up. The chains clanked as they moved along the floor.
Where was he?
He looked around the room. There was a bed in the corner, with a sink and toilet on the other side of the room.
Other than that, there was nothing else in the room. No windows, no TV, no means of escape, from what he could see.
Soft voices pulled Reid’s attention toward the door.
Someone was approaching.
His heart began to pound as he waited for his new nightmare to appear.
Whatever this was, waking up chained to a wall was never a good sign of things to come.
How had this become his life?
First, he had been sex trafficked, and now he had been sold?
Why did god hate him so much?
Reid’s eyes were locked on the door as the knob began to turn.
Slowly, the door to the room pushed opened, and a portly, slightly balding man entered, smiling at Reid as if he had just won the lottery.
“Good! You’re awake,” the man cheered, walking over to where Reid was sitting, chained to the wall.
His eyes were wild, and there was something about his smile that sent shivers down Reid’s spine.
Whatever this man had in mind, it wasn’t going to end well for Reid.
“Oh, I’m so excited that you’re here! We’re going to have so much fun together!”
But they didn’t have fun. Reid suffered through some of the most humiliating and degrading sexual acts known to man.
It was about three months into his ordeal when he began contemplating ending his life.
But why should sir—as the man liked to be called—win?
Taking his own life was giving ultimate power over to his captor. Reid was never going to let that happen. Instead, he suffered through the pain and humiliation, secretly memorizing floor layouts in the dark and closely monitoring sir’s movements.
“So, how did you escape?” Nikolai asked, his eyes filled with anger and rage.
“The police raided the man’s house one night. They had gotten a tip that the owner might be holding a man against his will. My captor made one mistake—he caught the flu.”