Chapter 42
42
DONNIE
Something is really wrong between these two. From the moment we got back to the changing room, the mood shifted, and I’m struggling to figure out what it is. Helping Toby get his gear off seems to be the priority for getting us ready to go home, so I work on pulling off his hood first.
“There you are, Toby,” I say as I ruffle his blond mop of sweat dampened hair. I can’t help but lean over and give him a kiss on his sweaty forehead for being such a good pup tonight.
While I’m removing the first mitt, I notice Shiloh slink off into the little half bath in the room. The snick of the lock doesn’t surprise me, not that much. I figure he wants some privacy for removing his tail since he didn’t have an audience when I helped him put it in. Then again, he’s never not acknowledged if I needed the bathroom before he would occupy it at home.
Toby seems to sense something and tries to move toward the door before he has his legs unbound and I have to keep him from faceplanting into the coffee table.
Instead of our pup killing himself in his rush to get to the door, I head over to check on Shiloh. He doesn’t give me words, but the sound of his voice has me struggling to not break down the door.
Even his response to Toby makes my fear ratchet higher, despite the strange waddle maneuver our pup is doing to work the tail plug out of his ass while he’s pacing in front of the bathroom door.
That’s it. I’m calling for backup. This fucking club has failed Shiloh too many times tonight. A locked door is not going to stop me from helping him.
I grab the wall phone and Clarence’s crisp voice comes on the line.
“Need supplies, Donald?”
“I need the fucking bathroom key. Shiloh has locked himself in and Toby is ready to break down the door. Honestly I’m inclined to let him if it wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Shit!” There’s sounds of drawers opening followed by keys jangling. “Theo! Room three! It’s our kitten!”
The line goes dead and I grab onto Toby before he finishes lining up to break down the door. I don’t know if he hears me when I tell him help is on the way, but we both freeze at the sight in front of us when the door opens.
I don’t know what is louder; Toby’s howl of anguish or the shattering of my heart. If it wasn’t for the hiccuping breaths, I would think Shiloh was dead with how he is laid out on the floor. My brain flashes back to the vision of Eric on that bed, struggling to breathe through the vomit and semen in his throat.
Toby falls to his knees when I release him and run to the trash can in the corner to vomit whatever is in my stomach. I know they need me. My boys need me, but I’m trapped in that fucking party house. I failed. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t save him.
“… Hastings? Dude, snap out of it….”
Words float by while I’m trapped in the past.
Look at that, fairy boy is choking on our cum.
I’d rather he choke on my dick.
Fucking faggot is begging for it.
“DON!”
A sharp pain on my cheek makes my body react and I jump to my feet to beat the shit out of someone. Never again!
“Wake the fuck up, Hastings!” Spencer says as my eyes refocus on the present. He and Eric are both in front of me with the latter shaking out his hand as if he hurt it somehow.
“You with us?” Matt calls from the direction of the couch and I nod, not trusting myself not to spew again.
Eric pushes my shoulder before sauntering over to where his boyfriend is. “Good because I am not slapping you again. What the fuck is your cheekbone made out of, concrete?”
Looking at the couch, I see Shiloh laid out, covered in a plush blanket with Toby kneeling beside his head, stroking his hand down our kitten’s body, petting him to keep himself calm.
“Do we need an ambulance?” Clarence asks as the door to the room cracks open.
Matt meets him at the door shaking his head. “I got this, C. We’ll go out the back tonight, though. I don’t think Shy is going to be up for walking through the lounge.”
Turning away from the door, Matt levels me with a glare.
“We need to talk.”