Chapter 4
Misha
The sex left Misha utterly confused. He couldn’t deny it’d been enjoyable. Grim was an amazing kisser, and even as they lay side by side in the dark room, Misha could still feel the burn of his captor’s lips and teeth on his skin. The blowjob had been out of this world. It had actually gotten him off and hadn’t been just for the pleasure of his partner. As dubious as Misha was, he couldn’t deny that Grim had been trying to make him feel good, and he hadn’t even demanded anything in return yet. Grim had jerked off that amazing cock while sucking on Misha’s lips as if they were the sweetest ice cream.
Still, Misha hadn’t wanted any of it, and neither the orgasm nor all the caresses he received could make that right. Shame crept up his chest as he lay next to Grim’s warm, very naked body. It settled on his ribcage like a demon intent on choking the life out of Misha once he fell asleep.
But as dreams refused to come, Misha tried not to think about the big cock touching his thigh. He felt uneasy. The hotel room was much bigger than his tiny place in Gary’s apartment, but all the empty space made him oddly anxious. It made him wonder how he could ever cope with freedom again. Still, if being free meant not experiencing the fears he had lived with for the last few years, he would do anything to untangle himself from the new set of greedy clutches that held him close.
Once Misha was sure Grim was asleep, he reached under the pillow and squeezed his hand over the cool metal of the fork. It felt so alien in his grasp, a weapon that he’d brought here with a homicidal intent. All he needed to do was to stab Grim the right way. He would be free then, even if homeless and penniless. Grim’s relaxed breaths against Misha’s shoulder were suffocating him like a plastic bag tied around his head and made his skin break out in gooseflesh.
He squeezed the fork in his sweaty palm, afraid that the drumming in his chest was loud enough to wake Grim up, and who knew what this man would do then? With a ray of artificial light coming in from between the blinds, Misha watched the veins on Grim’s neck, trying to work out which one to target. His vision was becoming a blur from the panic over what he was about to do. Even if Misha didn’t manage to kill Grim, taking care of the wound would be Grim’s priority, and so he wouldn’t chase Misha right away.
He raised himself on his arm and took a deep, shaky breath, tracing the air with the fork to work out the trajectory he needed for the assault. He was not a slave. He was Mikhail Andreyev, and he would have a life after this, even if no normal man were to want him in his bed.
Misha put all his strength into the swift stab, but the fork never reached its target. Grim’s thick forearm blocked Misha’s, and in a surreal moment, their eyes met. Misha let out a scream as his mind went into overdrive.
He’d been discovered.
He could either fight now or take his punishment silently, but he’d already promised himself not to submit again. He pulled himself up and stabbed at Grim again, but the moment his right wrist was locked in a tight hold, he knew resistance was futile.
Grim pulled on Misha’s hand, forcing him to roll on his stomach and then climbed on top of him, pulling both his arms back. “What was that?” he hissed against the sensitive skin of Misha’s scalp.
Misha could feel the sweat already beading on his neck, and he hit his forehead against the pillow, hardly able to breathe. Even though he knew it was pointless, he still struggled against Grim’s force. This was exactly what Misha had expected. Grim had tried to make himself look nice to coerce him into a sexual relationship, but now that he’d failed, he’d just force himself on Misha, rape him, or worse. Though considering the size of Grim’s cock, being fucked with it would be punishment enough.
“Don’t! I’ll be good! I’m sorry!” Misha whined even though pleading was the last thing he wanted to do. Shame crept up his throat like bile. The only thing he was sorry for was that he hadn’t been fast enough. Feeling Grim’s firm body on top of him was only a sour reminder of how weak and useless he was. Even if he somehow managed to struggle out of the deathly grip, with no legs Misha wouldn’t be able to flee.
Grim’s hand tightened on his wrist. “Drop that thing,” he growled.
Misha let go of the fork, and it rolled down the side of the bed, falling to the floor with a loud clatter of finality. “Please don’t do this, we can work something out, I’m sure.” Misha’s breath turned into wheezing, and he hated himself for the words coming out of his mouth. What could he possibly “work out” with Grim? That he’d be his private unpaid whore? Maybe it would really be better if he just died already? “Fuck you! Fuck you,” he groaned, struggling against the body that might as well have been made out of concrete.
“What is wrong with you?” asked Grim in a low, rumbly voice before releasing Misha and rolling off the bed. It left Misha confused and with muscles that yearned to struggle even though there was nothing to budge against anymore.
The light went on, and Misha instantly sat up. He grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and clenched the base in his hands, even though it would most probably be a weapon as pathetic as the fork had been. Grim frowned, but Misha didn’t waste time and threw the lamp at him. It flew only a few inches before the cable that must have been connected to the socket brought it down with a pathetic creak.
Big and glorious in his unashamed nakedness as he walked up to the footboard of the bed and crossed his arms on his massive chest, Grim stared at Misha. “What the fuck is this?”
Misha crawled away as far as he could without leaving the bed. “I-I’m a person!” The last thing he needed was a fucking stammer, but it was like the bratty cousin that never failed to tell the whole world how afraid you were.
Grim laughed and spread his arms. “Oh, you’re a person? What about me? Am I not a person that you decided to off me in my sleep?”—He started pacing back and forth, like an exasperated lion—“I saved you from that fucked-up place, and that’s how you choose to repay me?”
Misha swallowed, but Grim’s nakedness was making him wonder how a man so captivated by him could turn into a beast in a matter of seconds. That was why he wanted to leave. He didn’t want to stick around and wait for the violence that was sure to come. It always did.
“I just wanted to go …” Misha curled his legs up in the hope they could distract Grim, but the man only showed his teeth .
“Go? Go where? You told me you have no documents ... or was that a lie too?”
A new flame of anger burned up in Misha’s gut. “I don’t know where! Away from you and fucked-up sickos like you! I didn’t ask for a life like this!”
“People like you should understand others, shouldn’t they? You’ve been through so much, and now you attack me, after I saved you from those perverts?” spat Grim, walking up to the opposite wall and back.
Misha scowled, looking around for a way out. “You didn’t save me. You didn’t take me to the police or put me in a blanket with a fucking cup of coffee. You wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me, and that’s the only reason you took me with you.”
Grim growled and punched the wall repeatedly until a piece of plaster crumbled and fell to the floor. “You kissed me!”
“I was scared! I didn’t know what you would do if I said ‘no.’ I didn’t want you to strand me at that parking lot.” Misha took a deep breath and grabbed the blanket because the trembling in his fingers was freaking him out. “And now … I still don’t know what you will do to me.” He swallowed, thinking of the power in Grim’s fists. He could smash Misha’s face into pieces, dump him in the woods, and no one would ever know. “But I’m so tired of living like this. I can’t do it anymore. You killed Gary, but all you want is to keep me the way he did.”
“I am nothing like that piece of shit,” hissed Grim and approached Misha with his whole body tense like a bull ready to charge. “I would never hurt you or anyone else like you.”
Misha knocked the back of his head against the wall. “Oh, really? You would help me out of the goodness of your heart? Without a fuck to look forward to? You wouldn’t lock me up in a basement claiming that it was all for my safety?”
Grim charged at him so quickly Misha froze and let him climb on top. Grim’s eyes were like burning coals, spitting sparks of fire left and right as he dug his fingers into the flesh of Misha’s cheeks and shook him. “Who do you think you are that you think you can play with my feelings like this?”
Misha pushed on Grim’s shoulders in panic. “You don’t like me. You don’t really know me. So you know what movies I like or that I wanted an Xbox? That means shit if you don’t even know my real name! You don’t know how I was forced to live my life.” He took a deep breath, but his eyes weren’t even glossing over. He’d lost his tears long ago. He couldn’t remember ever speaking like that to Gary. Actually saying what he thought and not being punished for it .
Grim hissed into Misha’s face. “Your name? What’s your name?”
Misha squinted at him despite finding it hard to breathe. “I’m not telling you.”
Grim’s eyes opened wider, then his eyelids wrinkled, and his hand squeezed tighter on Misha’s jaw as he watched Misha like a hawk, ready to strike. But he didn’t. Grim let go of Misha and rolled off the bed, tense and heaving. “I rescued you. You owe me your name.”
Misha swallowed, shocked he didn’t get a slap for his impertinence. Drunk on the tiny win, he slowly sat up. “We had sex. You’re not getting my name as well.”
Grim kicked the chair by the dresser, showing his teeth like an agitated toddler. “I’ve earned it!”
“I’m not a toy you’ve pulled out of a claw machine.” Misha pulled up the blanket, hyper-aware of Grim’s every move and ready to dodge a punch if it came his way.
“Do you think I’m stupid? You’re a person!”
“It’s not like I know your real name.”
Muscles danced at the sides of Grim’s jaw. Clearly, he too wasn’t ready to introduce himself. “Fine,” he said in the end. “But don’t say I don’t know you. I drink every word from your lips, little bird.”
Misha never felt like a hottie. He doubted any of the subscribers to his webcam movies chose him because of his face or nice arms. They all wanted to see his stumps. He being young and okay-looking was only a bonus.
“There’s more to me than you see in the videos. I’m not just my stumps. I’m not just what I do with my boyfriend—”
Grim exploded and pushed a vase off the small table by the window, his face dark. “He’s not your boyfriend!”
Misha curled up under the blanket. “Because you killed him!”
Grim punched himself in the chest. “I rescued you from that monster’s dirty, sleazy hands. He was locking you up like an animal, and he never cared for you like I do! I’m happy his dick is already becoming insect fodder and that he won’t ever touch you again!”
Misha took a deep breath, still finding it hard to believe Gary wouldn’t be there to shield him from others anymore. He still longed for it, even if the price for that protection had been steep. “How are you any different? Because you’re younger and more handsome? ”
A ghost of a smile passed through Grim’s face at the comment. “I’m gonna treat you right. I will give you everything you ever wanted. I have the means for it, and I have the respect of my people,” said Grim with pride, stretching his neck. “You might be a broken bird now, but I can be the one to fix your wings.”
Misha’s wings weren’t broken. They were clipped and would never grow back. “Nothing can fix me.”
Grim slowly approached Misha, his breathing steady again as he drilled his gaze into Misha’s face. “That’s bullshit. You need someone who cares for you. I promise you will want for nothing if you stay with me. I will carry you in my arms, and you will be happy again.”
Misha would have laughed if it weren’t so sad to hear. “All you really like about me is that I have no legs. I know people like you.”
Grim’s face twisted into a snarl. “People like me? You profited off us. You pretended you care what your viewers thought. You even replied to my letter once,” barked Grim, starting to pace again. “You are a liar. You even lied about your name, as it seems.”
Misha hugged the blanket around him and swallowed. Truth was, he didn’t think all his subscribers were bad people. It was the position he found himself in and not being able to tell anyone about it that made his suffering even worse. He was shocked by the flood of emotions that poured into his veins. “Your letter was nice,” he mumbled, and he knew exactly which one it was, because he’d found it in the Xbox package. The sender discussed a movie Misha reviewed two months back, and the envelope included some postcards and stories from a prolonged visit to Nashville. It was a normal letter without weird sexual content, different from the majority of comments he received, which were mostly about his looks and the porn he did. “I never got a penny for the vids. I was lucky if Gary got me my favorite pizza once a week. Don’t you understand?” He looked up, hating that the emotions he’d been shutting down for years were now pushing to the surface. He’d thought he was over it all. What was the shame of being fucked on camera when he knew some people had it so much worse? When he used to have it much worse. Less than a day ago, giving sexual favors to only one person was a relief, yet now he could hardly stomach the thought.
Grim stalled, turned away from Misha, and stared at the wall, rocking on the balls of his feet. When he finally looked back at Misha, his expression was flat. “How long have you been over there? ”
Tiredness settled on Misha’s shoulders and made him slouch. “Over four years. Fuck. Fucking fuck.” Saying it out loud made it even more real. He hadn’t even been eighteen when he was first taken, he’d never had a real boyfriend, and now he was twenty-two, crippled, and completely wrecked.
Muscles twitched at the sides of Grim’s jaw, and he slowly rubbed his face with both hands. “You were never doing this from your home in Russia, were you?”
Misha shook his head, feeling even more exposed than he was during sex. He hated being seen as a victim. “I grew to like some of it,” he offered with a shrug. “At least something to pass the time.”
“Fuck!” Grim kicked the plastic vase he had earlier pushed off the table and messed up his hair, heaving. His eyes were moving all around the room, looking everywhere but at Misha. “Are you even gay?”
Misha nodded, once again realizing how much worse off he could have been if he were straight and caught Gary’s eye. “I’m very gay. I just … wish I could have been gay with someone I wanted.”
“So you don’t like me?” muttered Grim through his teeth. “And you fucked me because you were afraid of me?”
Misha could say “yes” and be done with it, but that wouldn’t be the truth, and seeing how confused Grim now seemed, Misha didn’t have the heart to crush his hopes. “I did mean it when I said you were handsome. I just … I wasn’t ready, and I’ve never been in a situation like this. No one ever asked me what I wanted.”
Grim slowly walked up to the pile of clothes on the floor and picked up his underwear, slowly putting it on, as if he suddenly became self-conscious about his naked dick. “Yeah, okay.” He brushed his hand against his nose and pulled the black shirt on.
“I’m sorry I tried to stab you,” Misha offered, but the weight of the atmosphere in the room wasn’t helping him breathe. He’d often imagined that getting away from the compound would be the happiest moment of his life, and yet here he was, confused and useless.
Grim slowly walked up to the bed and sat on the mattress. He turned toward Misha and pushed back his short hair. “So ... now what?”
How was Misha supposed to know? The only thing he did not want was a police record, which would lead Zero straight to him. “I don’t want to be a burden,” he whispered. “If you could take me to the nearest city … I’d work something out. ”
“You’re not gonna be a burden,” said Grim quickly. “I’m not gonna leave you. You need help.”
Misha couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. He wasn’t ready to be on his own just yet. “I will need stuff,” he warned. “I promise to find a way to pay you back, but it will take time.”
“I have money,” said Grim, watching Misha with his intense grey eyes. “I promise nothing’s gonna happen to you while you’re on my watch.”
“Can I hug you, or would that be weird?” Misha wouldn’t dare blink, consumed by conflicting emotions. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t fully trust Grim.
Grim immediately moved closer and pulled Misha against his chest, going as far as cradling his head. The powerful heart that beat inside Grim’s chest was like a timer counting seconds since Misha left the compound. He wrapped his arms tightly around Grim’s neck, and it was the first time he’d ever hugged a man this way with honesty and of his own will. For once, the embrace of strong arms didn’t feel like a vise around his dignity.
“It’s gonna be fine. We will get you documents and a wheelchair. You’ll like it with me,” promised Grim, petting Misha’s arms. He sounded very eager to win Misha over, but it was clear he didn’t intend any harm. As aggressive and deadly as Grim was, his cruelty didn’t seem to extend to amputees. It was so odd to suddenly see the mutilation Misha had suffered as an advantage.
Misha wanted to say something like, “you shouldn’t feel obliged to help me,” but he couldn’t force himself to do that. He needed all the help he could get, and if Grim claimed to really like him, Misha wasn’t about to reject it. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for what I said. I know there are good people out there who are into me, but it’s hard to weed them out. I never met anyone through the website.”
Grim smirked and slowly pushed Misha away. “What do you think? Am I a good person?”
“I don’t know yet.” Misha pouted but kept his hand on Grim’s forearm. He made it seem as if his hand slipped there after the hug, but truth be told, he enjoyed the firmness of Grim’s muscles as long as their strength wasn’t turned against him.
“I’m not,” said Grim coolly, “but that’s why I can keep you safe. I’m afraid of no one. ”
Misha bit his lip and finally took his hand off Grim. A tremble went down his spine. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Confident. I like that. Beats ‘nice’ any day.”
Grim laughed. “Nice guys are overrated. That word means nothing.” He squeezed Misha’s palms and massaged them gently, then exhaled, and slowly rolled to his back.
Misha could only agree with that. Gary would often use that adjective when he expected gratitude for bringing Misha food, a new T-shirt, or making sure he used enough lube when they fucked.
When Misha lay down and closed his eyes, the gruesome image of Gary’s dying body appeared under his eyelids, and relief flooded his heart once again. “Goodnight,” he whispered to Grim.