Chapter 7
Hunter
The sound of metal scraping across the floor has my eyes flying open.
“Don’t ever let your opponent catch you off guard, Hunter. You take the hit; you take it with your eyes wide fucking open. Don’t be a weakling. No son of mine is a pussy.”
The pain slices through my side as I sit up.
I don’t think my rib’s broken, but fuck it hurts.
The footsteps stop in front of the cage.
I turn my head, wondering what my captor wants this time.
If he came back for another round, I won’t let him win.
The last one caught me off guard. I don’t know how the hell he found my hidden files.
They were password protected. Him learning my secret definitely weakened my stance, but I will not be defeated.
“You see that faggot over there, Hunter? He’s a parent’s worst nightmare. Weak. Pathetic. A disgrace to the male population. I swear they should all be strung up and castrated.”
I turn my head, trying to drown out my father’s voice.
My eye is able to open more now. The swelling must be going down.
Two black leather shoes enter my vision before I raise my head.
Relief slams into me when I see the blue uniform with the shiny badge attached to his belt, gun holster on his hip.
“Officer. Thank God you’re here. That man did this to me.
He attacked me in the gym parking lot, drugged me, and brought me here.
He has been holding me captive. He beat the shit out of me and threatened to kill me.
He’s an ex-con who just got out of prison.
You need to lock him up for life this time. ”
The cop crouches down, studying me through the metal bars.
I don’t understand why he isn’t turning his gun on the man standing behind him.
He should be slapping the cuffs on Spencer and disarming the threat, but he’s not.
He’s looking at me like I’m the criminal.
I think it’s obvious here who the victim is—the one locked in a fucking dog cage.
“Is that so?” He finally breaks the deafening silence.
What the fuck? Do I need to spell it out for him?
He needs to arrest the beast that’s standing right behind him.
The one who could easily reach down and disarm him of his weapon and then use it against both of us.
Is this cop stupid? He’s putting us both in a vulnerable position.
“So, you’re the one that did that to his face? ”
The fuck? Can’t he tell by the scar tissue that the damage was done ages ago.
What the fuck is happening right now? Isn’t this officer here to save me from this fucking tyrant?
I can see it in Spencer’s eyes, the evil lurking in their dark depths.
He wants to hurt me for what I did to him.
He’s not just looking for vengeance, he wants to murder me.
“Officer, you need to arrest him. He’s got a knife and will use it on you.”
He stands upright, finally kicking into gear. Thank fuck. “You going to use that knife on me, Monk?”
Monk?
Spencer’s eyes gleam with a look I can’t read.
He looks pleased the cop is here. There isn’t a flicker of fear or intimidation on his face.
Sick fuck must want to go back to prison.
He probably liked it in there. He probably misses all the action he was getting.
Based on how fucking huge he is, I’m guessing he could have his pick of any of the prisoners and turn them into his bitch.
I didn’t even recognize him at first. Not until I saw the scar.
But that’s the only thing that’s the same.
He didn’t just grow a fucking foot, he turned into a beast. Body bulked with muscle, no longer scrawny and thin.
Head and arms covered in tattoos; evil markings that make him look like he belongs behind bars, not wandering the streets.
His voice is even deeper now. And his face…
The boyish features have transformed. He’s… I stop the thought from surfacing.
“I am,” Spencer states, a glint of a smirk on his face as he pulls his sharp weapon from his pocket. He holds it up to the side of the officer’s face, and the air inside my lungs freeze. The cop isn’t doing anything. Why the fuck is he just standing there? He needs to pull out his gun and shoot.
Spencer runs the tip of the knife down his neck, and the officer’s fists clench at his sides, doing absolutely nothing when his gun is right there. All he has to do is take it out and shoot. Great. They sent the stupidest cop on the planet to come and rescue my ass.
A button goes flying and my attention refocuses on Spencer’s hands. He’s running the knife down the cop’s shirt. One by one, slowly slicing every button off. I don’t understand what the fuck is happening.
“Took you long enough to call, Monk,” the officer grits through his teeth, his breath sounding ragged. He must be fucking terrified of the man. But then his words sink in.
“I’ve been a bit preoccupied.” The beast smirks.
“I see that.” The cop glances down at me, his features narrowing into a glare, and it starts to sink in.
He’s not here to rescue me. He didn’t come to arrest my kidnapper.
These two know each other. And when the button on the cop’s pants gets popped off, it’s clear just how well these two know each other.
He’s not a stupid cop; he’s a dirty one.
The cop turns his attention back right as the zipper of his fly gets sliced down the center. His pants drop to the floor and his hard cock springs up, pointing right at my captor. What the fuck kind of fucked-up universe am I in?
The beast’s eyes drop down, staring at the thick dick, and I swallow hard. My stomach is twisted the fuck up. His eyes suddenly shoot to mine, narrowing in, and embarrassment blankets me.
“You see something you like, pet?” He cocks a brow.
“It’s a nice fucking cock, isn’t it?” His hand reaches out, stroking the officer’s shaft, eliciting a groan from the dirty cop’s mouth.
“Long and thick with a nice heavy sac hanging underneath.” He gives the cop’s balls a squeeze, earning himself another moan.
“I bet if you ask nicely”—he begins stroking him again, his grasp firm—“he’ll let you suck on it.”
I swallow back the rush of heat trying to infiltrate my system, refusing to be taken down like this. “You both are sick fucks. Which one of you faggots is the wife?”
The cop shifts and is crouched before me again, his gun aimed right at my forehead. “Why don’t you say that word to my face and see what happens? I’ll shove the barrel of my gun right up your ass and fuck you with it before I blow you inside out.”
“Put the gun away.” The beast steps up to his back, his voice a deadly warning. “He’s mine. I’m the only one who gets to kill him.” He grabs onto the officer’s hair and gives it a tug. His eyes pinning me beneath their evil glare, unrelenting.
A shiver runs down my spine, ratcheting my nerves up further.
Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m fucked up.
There shouldn’t be a flicker of heat coursing through my veins.
A throb between my legs. Only fear and anger should reside in my body.
Although, Dad says fear is an emotion for cowards, so I shouldn’t seek to thrive on that emotion.
I need to harness the anger and feed on its strength.
The cop snarls at me as he lowers his weapon. Placing it on the ground by his side as if teasing me with its proximity.
“Good boy,” the beast says, and I glance up from the weapon, watching as he runs his hand over the cop’s head like he’s petting him.
The officer’s eyes flare at the praise, and he tilts his head back, rubbing into the beast’s touch, seeking more.
The tension in my lower gut tightens. It suddenly feels like I’m watching a live porn.
The cop’s eyes burn hotter as the petting gets heavier.
The beast running his fingers through his hair, tugging him back against his crotch as he pumps his hips forward, rubbing his cock against the back of his head, eliciting a groan from the officer.
I glance up and see the beast’s stare hasn’t wavered. He’s still burning a hole right into me. It feels like a challenge. I’ve never backed down from one, yet I’m battling the line of defeat. But if I shy away, retreat to the back of the cage, he’ll know he’s won. He’s thriving off my discomfort.
The cop shifts, and the movement gains my attention.
He turns on his knees and starts to rub his cheek against the beast’s crotch.
His eyes closing as he sinks deeper into the heat.
Getting lost to his lust. He begins running his lips over the length of the hard shaft that’s protruding long and proud under the joggers Spencer’s wearing.
He kisses him openly. His tongue leaving wet marks up and down the light gray cotton.
His breathing is picking up speed as groans start coming from his throat.
He slides his mouth down, reaching the bottom end of the beast’s cock, and then he begins to suck on it.
A growl from above has my eyes snapping up. The beast’s eyes are at half mast, yet still bearing down on me. Another shiver runs down my spine. His nostrils flare at my visible reaction, and then the clench of his jaw tightens. The madness burning bright again in the depths of his dark eyes.
“Monk…” the officer’s groan releases me from the haunting stare, and I see the cop looking up at the beast. “Don’t deny me.”
The beast looks down, a contemplative expression crossing his face before he erases it, as if locking his features down. “Take it out,” he grunts.
The officer reaches for Spencer’s waistband and begins to slide his joggers down slowly. “Fuck,” he groans as the massive cock springs free, pointing right at his mouth. He licks his lips, his teeth sinking into the lower one. “You truly have the most perfect cock.”