Chapter 9
I wake up chained in a bedroom. Smacking my dry lips, I try to pull some moisture from beneath my tongue. I must have been drugged. I remember telling that girl I should have let Adam do what he planned to do, but then I remember nothing else. A warm feeling coats my mouth. Did they fucking chloroform me?
I look around the room. I’m handcuffed to the bed’s metal footboard. The room’s warmth causes my balls to stick to my thigh. A night light emits a blue glow from the corner and leaves a similar hue dancing across my skin.
My skin? Why am I shirtless? Why am I naked ? And where the fuck am I?
All I can think about is Petey. Luckily, I left him with extra food and water in case I ran late after the party. Or if, god forbid, I ended up dead at the party, because you never truly know with them.
Karma comes into the room, eyeing me and my testicular glory. I’ve never been an insecure man, but there’s something humbling about your naked human form chained up on the floor. No matter how good you think you look, that goes away in this position. Nothing sexy about a limp dick resting on a pair of nuts.
She’s so superior to me right now, and she’s looking down at me like she knows it. It’s fucking hot.
Stop thinking she’s hot. She abducted you.
She’d look pretty chained up on the floor. Naked. Her tight little slit resting on the old hardwoods. Maybe she’d leave the wood nice and wet afterward. Well, that thought takes care of my limp-dick problem. And I wish it wouldn’t.
I put my arm over my erection. She doesn’t need any more of my power.
“What do you want, karma?” I ask, raising my hardened stare to her face. “Or why don’t you tell me your real name? I know you recognize me because I recognize you.”
“I’m not telling you anything about me.”
“That little interaction in the parking lot told me enough to know that you’re letting some asshole who doesn’t deserve you make you into this?—”
“He isn’t making me into anything. This is my choice. I appreciate what you did in the parking lot and that you didn’t shoot me when you had the chance, but it doesn’t change anything .”
“Don’t make me regret my decision to let you live. What. Do. You. Want?” I’m losing patience with her.
“I want you to spill your guts about whatever this is.” She gestures toward the black wolf mask sitting on top of my clothes.
I can’t give her what she wants, though. That info is well guarded. Anyone caught sharing anything about the Exodus ends up on a list like mine.
My list.
I look at my clothes again. Where is it? Has she seen it? I wish I could tell her I’m just a pawn, nothing more and everything less, but that list, with its bloody, crossed-out names, makes me look like more than what I am.
“I can’t,” I say.
She walks over, lifts her heel, and stomps down on my cock and balls. “How about now?”
I open my mouth in a soundless scream as pain rushes to my lap and seems to work its way through every muscle in my body. “No,” I choke out.
She twists her heel. “I don’t care if I crush your dick.”
“I think you do care...based on the way you look at it.”
“Fuck you.” She digs her heel into me, mashing the most sensitive area on my body.
Fuck, that hurts.
“I don’t know what I did to you, but can you not take it out on my dick?” I grip her ankle with my free hand to take the pressure off my junk. “Girl, can we not?”
“Oh, does that hurt?”
“Listen, I have a son at home. You have to let me go,” I say. Petey is my son. I’d burn the world down for that rabbit.
“I don’t care.”
She finally pulls her foot off my dick, which unfortunately hurts a lot worse because it was hard. For her. Stupidly for her. There’s a mark where her heel has bruised my flesh.
“So you really aren’t going to talk?” she asks. “This only gets worse from here.”
My dick and I both wish I could, but if I tell her anything, we’re as good as dead. They’ll send someone like me to take care of us.
“No, I can’t.”
A frustrated exhale leaves her full lips. When she takes a step back and brushes her face with the back of her hand, she smears her makeup. A hint of discoloration circles her right eye.
“What’s that bruise from?” I ask, trying to take her attention off me.
Her lips tighten. “Nothing.”
“Well, something bruised you. Did he hurt you again?“
“You don’t get to ask me questions! This isn’t how this works!” she says.
Hey, I said the same thing. None of this is how this works. She should be fucking dead. Or even better, she should be my party favor. She’d look pretty as she begs for her life. To be honest, this girl would look pretty doing just about anything. With her dark hair pulled back in the messy ponytail, she looks somehow elegant and sloppy, but firmly sexy. She looks as if she’d kill me with a smile on her face. Possibly with my severed dick in her hand. Who knows what this kinky bitch is into.
“Listen, just let me go. I have a party I absolutely cannot miss.” I strain and look at the digital clock beneath the television. “In four hours.”
“A party? A fucking party!” she says with an angry laugh. “This is a night of partying for you?”
“For people beyond me. That’s what you don’t seem to understand. I’m a cog, karma.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“That’s what you told my friend, isn’t it?” I ask.
Was Adam really my friend, though? Nah, more like my handler.
“ Call me karma. ” I repeat her words back to her, and she looks at me like she wants to tap dance on my balls again.
“You just wait, Knox .” She calls me by my name, which Adam used like a fucking idiot. I go to argue that it’s not my real name, but then I look over at my discarded pants and realize she probably has my ID anyway. We’re supposed to leave identification at home, so I fucked that up.
“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I ask.
“For your karma.”