Chapter 17 #2
Elijah pulls down my pants along with my underwear, leaving me naked since I’m already barefoot. He runs his hands over my skin, mindful of my bruises. I don’t want this to feel good, but any touch that isn’t meant to hurt is goddamn welcome.
“We’ll do what we did last time,” Elijah says, and I breathe in relief. “Go on.”
I sit on the couch. The painkiller is already swimming in my system, numbing the pain.
Elijah comes over and sinks to his knees between my open legs, but I don’t delude myself that this is in any way a transfer of power.
He kisses the inside of my thighs, slowly climbing up to my crotch.
I get hard quickly, my body eager for this rare pleasure.
“I don’t do this with any of my other fighters,” Elijah says, and I find myself believing him, though I’m not sure why he’s telling me this. “When I was a kid, I joined my father on a visit to the Hive Salvation.”
“It’s gone now.”
“I know, during what you call Skyfall. It was a fascinating place from what I remember, and it was there that I saw a Defender for the first time. The sleek black uniform on that strong body…”
“Am I a childhood fantasy?”
“Luckily for you, you are.” He takes me in his mouth.
I tilt my head back and succumb to pleasure. With everything around me so bleak, I try not to judge myself for whoring my body for painkillers. My survival is more important to me than my morals.
Elijah moans as he sucks, playing with my balls with one hand while feeling my pecs with the other.
I’m not required to do anything other than to keep hard and ejaculate, but I find myself stroking his hair, my thumbs brushing over his temples.
Despite everything, I’m grateful. He could have chosen to do a lot more than suck me off.
He raises his head, his lips glossy. “I want to hear you.”
I nod and wait for him to slide me back into his mouth before I let out a deep moan I don’t need to fake.
He sucks me harder, and I rock my hips back and forth, careful not to act like I’m dictating the rhythm.
He manages to take me deep enough for his nose to brush against my pubes, but he hurries to pull back and take a breath. “Damn, you’re big.”
“Sorry.”
“Shut up.”
He uses his spit to jerk me off and raises his other hand to touch my lips, sliding his thumb into my mouth for me to suck on.
I’m getting close, but I hold it back to not disappoint him.
He leans down to suck me again, swirling his tongue over my slit and making me gasp.
I’m dancing on the sweet verge of climax, holding on for as long as I can, but it’s a losing battle.
I’m about to let go and shoot in Elijah’s mouth when a damn knock on the door makes him raise his head.
“What is it?” he calls.
“A message for you, sir. It’s from the governor’s office.”
My stomach clenches. Elijah rises to his feet and goes to open the door. He takes the message before the guard can see me spread naked on the couch, though I doubt Elijah gives a damn. He reads the note and sighs. “I’m afraid you’ll need to have blue balls for a while.”
“Hector?”
“Who else? Get dressed.”
*
A car is waiting in front of the main gate.
I climb inside, sitting next to one of Hector’s guards.
The world seems peaceful from inside the warm car, yet I’m anything but peaceful thinking of seeing him again.
Last time we met, he drugged me and tattooed my body for hours.
I worry about what he might do next, yet no part of me is under the illusion I’ll be able to stop him.
We park in front of Hector’s building. Elijah told me that the lower floors are meant for government work—whatever that means in a place like this—and the upper floors are for residence, though Hector is the only one living in the highest section.
We step into the building, and I’m surprised to see the guards sending the elevator to one of the underground floors.
We step into a wide and dim parking lot, with only a few parked cars and a couple of buggies around.
I follow the guards until I see Hector. He’s standing next to three kneeling men.
When I get closer, I recognize Jay and the other two Raiders who were with me in the buggy on the way to Denver.
Hector flashes me a smile. “Surprise!”
I take in the pitiful sight of the three bound Raiders. They’re gagged and terrified, watching me as though I’m the last person they expected to see.
“Don’t ever say I’m not a man of my word.” Hector stands next to me. “How do you want to do it?”
I can’t find my voice. I imagined getting even with these bastards from the second they killed Trey and kidnapped me and Josh, but not like this. This feels wrong, even though there’s poetic justice in Jay dying the same way Trey did.
“Caden… are you abusing my generosity?”
The warning in his voice isn’t subtle. I shake my head. “Sorry, but it doesn’t feel right doing it like this.”
“Oh. Well, I thought it made sense considering how they executed your friend. I guess it’s up to you to let them go like nothing happened.”
The thought of losing my chance to avenge Trey is unacceptable. I won’t ever forgive myself if I do that after giving him my word. I hold out my hand for someone to give me a gun, and when Hector nods his approval, one of the guards hands me his.
The whimpers of the three bound men are pathetic.
Trey didn’t whimper. He was more of a man than they could ever be.
Jay tries to say something through his gag, but I don’t care to listen, so I shoot him first. I grant him a bit of mercy by making it a clean kill. Two more shots take out the other two.
Still holding the gun, I’m tempted to use it to shoot Hector, but I’ll likely be gunned down a second later. I return the gun to the guard, then follow Hector into the elevator.
“You’re welcome,” he says as we climb to the top floor.
“You were the one who sent them after me, so don’t expect a thank you.”
“Fair point. Are you satisfied now?”
“It wasn’t about my satisfaction; it was about making things right.” Killing hundreds of Raiders didn’t fill the hole Ruben’s death left behind, so I stopped looking at death as a means of satisfaction. The world now has three fewer Raiders to worry about, and that is what matters.
We step out of the elevator and walk down a quiet hallway toward the apartment. “You don’t have any guards here,” I say.
“Do I come across as someone who needs guards for protection?”
“But you do have guards.”
“For show.” He opens the door. “A drink?”
“Yes.”
“I should also feed you based on the grumbling of your stomach. And if I’m not mistaken, there’s a heavy dose of painkillers inside you now. Elijah is a generous owner.”
That word stings, but I let it go and ask, “Is that why you wanted him to have me?”
He smiles, a bottle of wine in his hand. “Look at you putting the pieces together. The other houses would’ve let their fighters tear you apart once they found out you were a Defender. I counted on Elijah to act like his weak father and not allow that to happen. Did he tell you about him?”
“Yes.”
He comes over with two glasses of wine. I hold mine and hesitate, vividly remembering what happened last time.
“Oh, relax. I didn’t drug it.”
Worried about angering him, I take a sip, not sure I like the taste.
“Did Elijah tell you about his father’s vision for Denver?”
“A bit. I liked what I heard.”
“As a good Hiver should. But in a rotten world, you can’t afford to lead with your heart. And Nikola Powell, though quite bright, was all heart.”
“He died thirty years ago, didn’t he? You’re acting like you knew him.”
“Of course I did.” He sits on the couch, facing the city.
I sit next to him, watching him closely. “How old are you?”
“A bit rude to ask someone that, don’t you think?”
“You wanted me to ask.”
He winks. “I recently celebrated my one hundred and seventeenth birthday. I was born in 2028, twelve years before Doomsday.”
I take a sip of wine even though my hand shakes. “It scares me that I believe you. How is that possible?”
“Strange things happened when the world as I knew it ended. How am I still alive? I don’t know.”
“Are there more people like you?”
“Like me… no, but I haven’t met every survivor of Doomsday, so perhaps there are.”
“Do people here know about your age?”
“There are rumors, but I don’t mind them since they make people scared. I hid in the shadows for a long time before I was ready to come into the light.”
“Did you have something to do with Elijah’s father’s death?”
“Don’t insult me, Caden. Of course I did. The man had no room in my plan. Now, chicken or fish?”
“What?”
“Would you like to eat chicken or fish? I’m an excellent cook, but you’ll be the judge.”
“Chicken.”
He stands up and says, “Come cook with me.”
I follow him into the kitchen where he instructs me on how to help with the preparations.
I can’t help but stare at the knife I’m supposed to chop onions with, wondering if I could stab him fast enough now that we’re alone.
I might even find a way to sneak out of the building without anyone noticing.
I jolt at the sudden feeling of Hector’s tail as it wraps around my wrist.
“Your heart betrays your thoughts, my dear. How would you go about killing me? Slicing my throat? Poking my eyes out? Stabbing my heart?”
“Yes.”
He chuckles and removes his tail. “If these thoughts help you cope, be my guest, but if you try to act on them, I’ll make you feel the sort of pain that shatters a man’s mind. Would you like a demonstration?”
“No.” I look away, telling myself to be more careful next to him. “I have an onion to chop.”
“Then start chopping.”
*
We manage to finish cooking with barely any talking, but when we sit across from each other at the dining table, Hector asks, “How’s your training going?”
“Wonderful.” I can already feel the painkiller wearing off.
“They must be wondering what happened to the capable fighter from the arena.”