Chapter 30 Mason
Mason
Walking away from Lee and his family was the single hardest thing I’d ever done, especially when all I wanted to do was cower in terror from the man in front of me.
Of all the things I would have expected, Dreyven showing up at the hospital in a cop uniform was not one of them.
The outfit looked legit, right down to the name tag that read “Sgt. Dowling.” Could he really be a cop?
It made a twisted sort of sense, I thouhgt.
Ricky had always had an in with cops wherever he went.
Lee tried to stop me from leaving, of course. But I saw Dreyven’s hand tighten threateningly on the gun in his holster, and I knew I had to talk fast and get out of there before he hurt more people I cared about.
So, the lies flowed from my lips, words like daggers designed to cut the bonds that Lee and I had been forming. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I would do anything to keep this man safe, including breaking his heart.
As soon as we were out of sight of Lee’s family, Dreyven took a crushing grip on one arm, guaranteeing there was no escape. As we approached the parking lot, I saw a police cruiser ready and waiting. Guess he was legit. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting to the airport on time.
The trip back to Seattle was a long, exhausting affair.
We only had one layover, but bad weather had delayed the flight.
It was over eighteen hours later when we pulled up in front of my apartment building.
As Dreyven paid the driver, I struggled with my fears, trying to get my mind to figure out what I was going to do.
Dreyven dismissed the driver and came back over to where I stood, stupidly lost in my exhaustion.
He’d changed out of his uniform at the airport, switching to a pair of jeans and an obscene t-shirt.
He’d had to leave his gun in the cruiser at the Akron airport when we parked, and when we arrived in Seattle he stopped at a post office to pick up a package, which included a pistol and ammunition.
He didn’t really need it, though. We both knew he controlled me even without a weapon.
I wouldn’t do anything to further threaten the lives of my friends.
I entered the apartment complex and saw our normal security guard wasn’t in place at the front desk.
“Hello there!” the middle-aged man said as we came in. “Something I can help you boys with?” he asked, his face friendly and open. His hair was an ash color, cut short and impeccably groomed. His eyes were a slate grey color that twinkled at us.
“Um, no, I, uh, I live here,” I stammered. “You must be new.”
He nodded.
“Yup, name’s Jamison. Joe Wilson’s on vacation this week,” he explained.
Joe was a sweet older man who didn’t really add much in the way of a security presence to the building, but always had a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on when your troubles got to be too much.
I’d spent many hours with him playing chess and checkers as he managed the front desk of the apartment building.
“Joe doesn’t hardly ever take vacation,” I commented. “I hope he’s enjoying it.”
“I believe so, sir!” he said, “I believe he’s visiting Tahiti. It’s a magical place. Have you ever been?” he asked.
I barked a short laugh, thinking of Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. TV show, but Dreyven’s grip tightened on my arm until I winced. “Um, no. I’m Mason Cameron, 14B. This is— uh,” I looked at Dreyven, nausea swirling in my gut. “This is my… friend, John Dowling.”
Dreyven reached his hand out and shook Jamison’s hand. Jamison’s gaze changed slightly as he eyed the grip that Dreyven had on my arm. It grew colder, more steel-like.
“Everything okay there, son?” He asked, his gaze turning to me.
“Mind your fuckin’ business, gramps,” Dreyven said harshly, pushing us toward the elevators. “He had too much to drink on the plane.”
I stumbled at the shove Dreyven gave me into the elevator, but managed to keep from falling. We got off on the fourteenth floor. I'd been sharing an apartment with Lizzie for the last few years, but she was living with Everett now.
As we got to the door of the one place that had been my sanctuary, my only safe place in the world, I sighed. Dreyven took the apartment key away from me and unlocked the door, slamming the door open.
“Not bad, Mason, not bad at all,” he said, looking around the apartment. “Home sweet home…”
I tried to see it through his eyes. It was modern, clean and had lots of windows that looked out over the city.
It was an open floor plan with hardwood floors everywhere.
Beneath us, lights flickered as the late-night traffic wended its way between the downtown streets.
There was an electric fireplace on one wall and my drawing studio against another.
The kitchen, dining and living room all shared open space specially adapted for Lizzie’s mobility challenges, while a hallway led down to the three bedrooms and bathroom.
For all its amenities, I couldn’t help but compare it to a cabin in Ohio, where a certain sexy Uber driver made me scrambled eggs and bacon…
“Earth to Mason, come in Mason,” Dreyven squawked at me. I glared back at him.
“What?” I snapped.
His hand flashed out and slapped me across the face. “Watch your tone, bitch. I own you. You do what I say, when I say it, and the only questions you ask better start and end with a sir, you hear me?”
I glared at him for a moment longer, but we both knew I’d obey. Anything, to protect my friends.
Dreyven flopped down on the couch, legs spread as he sprawled comfortably.
“C’mere, bitch,” he said. I moved forward a few steps, but it wasn’t good enough. He pointed to the spot between his legs. I reluctantly moved between them and shuddered. I had a pretty good idea of what he planned. He’d made comments all the way home about wanting to get my mouth on his cock.
My fears were confirmed a moment later when he said, “On your knees.”
I knelt, but the banked anger in my chest began to crackle. He unzipped his fly and pulled his thick, blunt cock out of his pants. The smell of him made me want to vomit, and I started breathing through my mouth so I could experience as little of it as possible.
“Oh, look at that. Good bitch, got his mouth all ready for me, hasn’t he?” he asked. He wound his fingers in my hair and pulled me toward him, the pain wringing a cry from me.
“Suck my cock, bitch,” he said, forcing my head down to his crotch and forcing his dick between my lips and down my throat.
I tried to pull away, but Dreyven wouldn’t let me.
He forced my head down, cramming his dick into my mouth.
I choked and gagged, more because of the smell of him than my gag reflex.
I’d taken longer and thicker dicks in my mouth before, but the smell…
it just wasn’t Lee’s, and my whole body knew it.
Just as he started pistoning his hips in and out of my mouth, a loud knock sounded at the door.
“Fucking Christ!” Dreyven exclaimed, tightening his hands in my hair even more, continuing to fuck my mouth as he spoke. “Go the fuck away!” he yelled.
Jamison’s voice came through the door, “You left something at the front desk, sir,” he called, his voice still filled with good cheer. “I think it’s your wallet? It has quite a bit of money in it, so I knew you wouldn’t want to lose it,” the doorman called through the door.
“Hah!” Dreyven eyes lit up and he laughed, the greed bright in his eyes as he shoved me aside. “Money? Yep, must be mine!” he said gleefully. He got to his feet and pushed past me, tucking his dick back in his pants. I knew the wallet didn’t belong to him, but that wouldn’t bother Dreyven.
I sat there in front of the couch, brushing the tears away from my eyes that the gagging had caused, trying to catch my breath. I had to figure a way out of this, but how?
In the reflection of the window I saw Dreyven walk over to the apartment door.
He checked through the peephole first, making sure it was Jamison at the door before unlocking it.
As he opened the door, I saw light flood into the darkened apartment, then I heard a click and a loud “Boom!” that I felt in my bones, then everything went black.