Chapter 23
23
ANTHONY
I watch him sleep after the meds kicked in, the stub on his hand stitched and bandaged. He’s on a heavy dose of antibiotics and pain meds to get him through the worst of it.
The longer I sit here, the more rage builds.
It’s an inferno inside of me.
They’ll pay. They’ll fucking pay.
The door to my bedroom opens, and Bane walks through, wearing a new necklace. I glance at it and see Tatum’s finger inside a glass vial. He turns it in his hand as he makes his way to the bed.
“He looks peaceful,” Bane says, his voice low so as not to wake him.
“He’s happy to be home.”
Bane nods and my eyes go to that damn necklace. What the fuck was he thinking? Then again, with Bane, I never fucking know.
“Please don’t make me take it off. It’s a reminder,” he explains. “A reminder that I fucked up. I won’t do it again. I’ve learned my lesson.”
I nod, just once and then glance over at the open door leading to the hidden passage.
“They’re all there, Boss. Waiting for you.”
“Henry?”
His brow furrows and he scowls. “Can’t find him. The little goblin. But trust me, when I do find him…” Something evil glints in his eyes.
I nod again and then make my way into the passageway, following him through the tunnels.
“Bane, you know that I’ll have to punish you for this.”
He sighs. “Yeah. I’m ready for something to be cut off. Just tell me what.”
“I’m not cutting anything off you. But I will be confiscating your collection. For a time.”
He spins around and gasps. “Boss. What—that…that’s not right.” I don’t respond, and his shoulders sag in the dim light. “I’d have rather lost a leg.”
He pouts the entire way to the room where Douglas is held. He’s slumped over in a chair, one of his fingers already missing. I hear the screams of everyone else we brought back, anyone who dared to help aid in Tatum’s capture and torture. They’re wishing they were dead right now.
But like Bane said, we’re going to make this last. They’re all going to suffer.
Bane shuffles up next to me and pulls something out of his pocket. A finger in a glass vial, almost identical to the one around his neck. “Douglas’s. It’s for Tatum.”
I give a clipped nod and then turn my gaze back to the man of the hour. The man I’m going to pull apart piece by piece.
“Bane, I’d like to handle Douglas. How long do you think I can drag this out for?”
“A few days?” he says as he wheels a cart in front of me. I see tools there. Sharp ones, blunt ones, electric ones.
“Good,” I say as I pick up a blunt, rusty knife. “I’m going to make this last.”
As I say those words, Douglas looks up and fear sparks in his eyes, the smell of piss meeting my nose as I make my way over to him.
I crouch down and dig the tip of the knife into the bloody stub of his finger. He cries out behind the gag in his mouth, and I grin.
“You’re mine, you piece of shit. And you will wish for death.”
“I’ll make sure you think of him every time I remove a part of you,” I add as I grab his middle finger and slowly saw it off. I make sure it’s slow and painful. His eyes roll back in his head as his body trembles.
Good. I want him to feel it all. Every slice. Every bit of him torn apart.
Bane pulls up a chair behind me, and I hear the crunch of a bag open as he starts to snack.
I don’t even look back at him, just slowly remove the rest of Douglas’s fingers on each hand, making sure to say Tatum’s name each time. He touched what is mine. He hurt him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say as I toss the fingers into a jar. One by one. When it’s full and Douglas’s hands are just stumps, Bane eagerly swoops them up and puts the lid on, cradling it to his chest.
“Can I keep these, Boss?” he asks, and I just stand up, wiping my bloody knife on Douglas’s shoulder, smearing the blood into his shirt. He’s already making a mess everywhere.
But I do need to give him a small rest so that I can move on to other things.
Like his eyes and tongue.
“You can. For now.”
Bane giggles as he holds out a chip bag to me. “Want one?”
I stare at my bloody hands and shake my head.
“No, but I’ll be back. In a few hours.”
Douglas is passed out now and Bane sighs. “I could work a little on him while you’re gone.”
I shake my head again and give him a stern look. “No. This one is mine. All mine.”
He sighs and then leans forward. “But I can keep his bits, right? Like all the pieces when he’s all disassembled?”
Yes, Bane. Yes, you can.
Tatum wakes up slowly, looking a bit groggy when he does. I’ve showered since slicing up Douglas and now all I want to do is hold him for a while.
I never want him out of my sight again.
“Hey, you,” he says as he nuzzles into my bare chest.
My fingers thread through his hair, and I inhale him. He smells fresh and clean, like the Tatum I know.
I kiss him gently, my lips meeting his softly, wanting him with a ferocity that I didn’t know I possessed, and yet not wanting to push him too far too fast. He just came out of something traumatic and I don’t want him to do anything he’s not ready for.
I’ll wait an eternity for him.
But Tatum continues to kiss me, groaning into my mouth, growing more frantic, his body melting into mine.
“I want you,” he gasps. “I want you so bad. Please, Anthony. Please.”
I smooth my hand down his spine and then roll him onto his back, capturing his mouth once more. His legs wind around me, and he sighs against my lips.
“I’m so glad to be home,” he says as he arches up into me. “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again.”
“You’re here. You’re safe,” I say as I meet his frantic thrusts. My lips trail down his jaw and neck, pushing his shirt up and nipping lightly at his exposed skin. I suck on his nipples and trace my way down to his belly button with my tongue. When I get to his boxers, I tug them off and toss them aside. Tatum’s hand threads through my hair as I run my nose up his dick, feeling it twitch against me.
My mouth drags up it, kissing the hard length gently. This isn’t about me tonight. This is about him.
I want him to feel how much I want him, how much I need him.
I don’t even know if this is love. It goes beyond that.
This is obsession, feral and deep. I need him more than I need to breathe.
My mouth surrounds his cockhead and I suck on it, letting it sit on my tongue, my eyes meeting Tatum’s as he gasps above me. His good hand tightens on me, digging into my scalp as I suck him down, taking him as far as I can go before he hits the back of my throat. I swallow around his length before pulling off and doing it all over again, an endless loop until he’s chanting my name.
“Anthony—wait. I—” His voice cracks as he yanks on my hair, but I hollow out my cheeks, making sure that he can’t pull me off, and I feel his legs tremble, his back arching off the bed as his cock erupts in my mouth. I taste him for a moment before swallowing it, licking my lips and moving up to lie at his side, brushing kisses up his neck and jaw.
“That was…oh my god, I’m so glad I’m alive.”
“Me too, my little light. Me too.”
He snuggles up to me, and I take his hand in mine, kissing the bandaged bit as gently as I can.
“I want you to know that I have him. Below,” I say, and Tatum wiggles against me, his eyes meeting mine.
“Are you making him hurt?” he asks, and I nod, kissing the tip of his nose.
“He is praying for death. But I won’t let him.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because he touched what is mine. He hurt you. He won’t live through it but he will suffer greatly first.”
“How long will you keep him alive?”
“A few days.” His leg rests over mine, and he nuzzles against my chest.
“If I want to, can I have a go at him?”
My heart thumps in my chest and lust flares through me.
“Whatever you want.”
“I’ll think on it.”
“You take all the time you need.”
Just as I say that there’s a knock on the door. I sigh, pulling the sheets over Tatum and pulling us both up so we’re sitting against the headboard.
“Come in.”
Teddy peers through the opening, and when he sees we’re decent he strides in.
He’s wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt, which is out of character for him, but he’s still healing from his gunshot wound.
He wanders up to the bed, and I can see his cheeks flaming. With a down-turned stare, he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and hands them to Tatum.
Tatum gasps and reaches for them, placing his nose right inside the colorful arrangement and grinning.
“This is so nice, Teddy. Thank you.”
He beams up at him, and Teddy’s cheeks flush darker. Something ugly wells up within me, but I tamp it down. Somehow, Tatum’s managed to wriggle himself into everyone’s hearts. It’s not his fault they all want him, that they’re all overly protective.
This is good. It means more are willing to die for him.
“Anthony, can Teddy join us for a bit?”
I stare at him, my eye twitching. I know it’s platonic, but good fuck, I don’t want to share right now. I just got him back. But then again, I always want him happy.
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
Really, who am I to deny him anything? So a minute later, I’m seated near the edge of the mattress, Tatum resting his head against Teddy’s chest as he lounges in bed next to us.
I don’t share him. I won’t. But it seems I have to, in a way.
Later that evening, we finally get up and moving. Teddy leaves us after a while and wanders off to do whatever he’s been doing while healing. Probably sitting with the guards in the front and watching for any break-ins. He blames himself for not being present with Tatum that night. I don’t think he will ever forgive himself.
Not that he’s said it. But I can see it in the way he moves, in the way he watches over Tatum.
He adores him, in his own way.
I bring Tatum to the front porch and settle him against me, and when that’s not close enough, I pull him into my lap and press my hands to the warm skin of his stomach.
“Have you heard from Angel?” he asks after a moment of silence.
“Yes. He’s messaged me, and Casey has assured me he’s fine.”
Tatum wiggles on my lap, leaning his head back against my shoulder. “I’m going to try calling him again.”
“Go ahead.”
He pulls his phone out and hits the call button, our faces appearing on the screen as we wait for him to answer.
“I don’t think he’s going to—” he begins, only to be cut off when my son’s face appears before us.
There’s a wobbly smile and then a sniffle. “Hi, you two,” Angelo says, his eyes glittering. He swipes at them quickly, and Tatum frowns.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Oh yes, just a bit homesick, but I’m fine. Really.”
Tatum leans forward and purses his lips. “You can tell us, Angel.”
“I really am fine. It’s so beautiful here. The kinds of flowers that can grow in this environment is wonderful. And Mikhail has a large greenhouse that’s just for me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. It’s lovely here.”
“We can come visit, right?” Tatum says, and then glances back at me.
“Once you’re recovered,” I reply.
Angelo’s brow furrows. “Recovered from what?”
Tatum sighs and then waves his hand at the camera. Angelo audibly gasps.
“What is that? What happened?”
“I was kidnapped and they…well, they stole a piece of me.”
Angelo’s eyes are wide and his cheeks flushed. “I hope my dad found them. And has ripped them to pieces.”
“Currently in the process,” I say, and Angelo nods. He’s never been one for blood, unlike Diablo. But he is my son in many other ways, especially when it comes to justice for those who have wronged us.
“Good,” he says and then sighs. “I really do miss you all.”
“We will plan a trip. I promise. I want to see how you’re doing,” Tatum says.
Angelo nods and they carry on a conversation for a short while, discussing the mundane things of life, like what he’s been doing with his free time and how he’s handling married life. But something seems off. He lacks the normal shine in his eyes.
As soon as we hang up, Tatum turns toward me and frowns. “Something’s not right.”
“I know. I could see it in his eyes. I’ll have Casey keep me posted. And we will visit in a few weeks.”
“Good. I want to hug him.”
I do too, but right now I’m content hugging Tatum to me, feeling him breathe as I cradle him in my palms.
“I don’t know, Anthony. I still think Angel marrying Mikhail was the wrong decision. If it is, can you break the contract?”
I nuzzle up into him, biting down on his ear gently. “If that’s what Angel wants, then yes we can, but it comes with complications. Our businesses are becoming enmeshed at the moment. But of course, if he’s miserable, I will make arrangements. But he wanted this. He told me he did.”
Tatum doesn’t respond, just turns in my lap and straddles my legs, his hands going into my hair. His mouth grazes mine and he bites down softly on my bottom lip. My dick twitches between my legs and I pull him closer, our cocks brushing when I do.
“I want you to fuck me. Right out here.”
“Do you have lube?” I ask, and he nods, pulling out a small container and grinning slyly at me.
“I’m always prepared.”
“Good boy.”
“I like it when you call me that,” he says as he pushes off of me and shimmies out of his pants. I work my own open, my dick already hard and ready. “But you know what I really like?” he asks as he leans forward and works himself open. “I like it when you call me your little light.”
“You are my little light.”
“I am,” he says with a sigh, leaning toward me and kissing me, his fingers still inside of him. My hand wraps around his cock, and he groans against me.
“You are my little light in the darkness.”
He groans louder and then clambers on top of me and settles my dick right at his wet hole. “That is so romantic, Anthony,” he sighs as he sits down on me. My hands clasp his hips as he takes me all the way inside. “It seems you may love me.”
Our eyes meet and my thumbs draw small circles across his skin.
“It’s more than love. It’s so much more.”
He nods and then rocks against me, the two of us hurling over the edge at the same time, our bodies pressed together, our hearts beating in time.