Kid knows the moment he opens his mouth all he’ll be able to do is scream. Distantly, he acknowledges the rest of his friends are attempting silence as well. The attention is on him alone. His bladder clenches, but he’s already wearing his piss. He cries instead. His uncle is dead and he can’t spare him a thought. He’s too afraid of what comes next.
It isn’t until Caleb takes hold of his hair and tilts his head that Kid’s survival instincts finally kick in. “I helped her! P-p-p-please,” he sputters. He pulls in gulps of air. It’s not enough. His world is dark around the edges. “I swear. I—”
“—helped her. Right. You helped her after your buddies raped her, after they beat her and broke her bones!” He presses the knife under Kid’s chin hard enough to produce a trickle of hot blood.
This is it, Kid thinks. He closes his eyes to wait for the pain. “I swear,” he whispers. “No rape. I helped her.” Abruptly, he’s caressed from one corner of his eye to the other. The gentle touch is a shock; something sinister lies beneath. The caress is followed by another; he can taste his own tears and his uncle’s blood across his bottom lip.
“You swear,” Caleb says. He snorts derisively. “Kid, I’m going to take you and that little bitch over there with me, and when Kitten wakes up, she’s going to tell me what happened. Understand?” The younger man opens his eyes just in time to see the back of Caleb’s hand approaching. His cheek lands in a blood-soaked patch of carpet.
“Jair,” Caleb’s voice is cold, “take this little pussy and the girl alive. Kill the rest and burn the house down.” Caleb drops the knife and doesn’t look back as he makes his way toward the bathroom.
Kid is numb. His uncle is dead. Abe is bleeding out. Joker is going to burn. Kid doesn’t want to think about his and Nancy’s fate. As Caleb walks past with the girl cradled against his chest, Kid can see a familiar pain. They’re both about to lose everything.
Caleb kisses her forehead softly, tenderly, as though he isn’t the same man who just decapitated someone with a knife. "Don’t worry, Kitten. I promise I’m going to make it better.”
***
6. Celia
Despite her new pet’s distress, he continues to shift closer to Celia. He’s a needy little thing; though honestly, he’s not little at all. He has to be over one and a half meters tall…taller than Felipe. The thought makes her smile inwardly.
The boy’s body is wracked. He sobs incessantly and with good reason as his bruises will attest. Rafiq’s men are complete brutes, but neither Celia nor Felipe had a way of knowing whether or not the young man was dangerous or a rapist until earlier that day, so they were not predisposed to offer aid. Poor boy, she thinks, so terrified. Celia feels a tiny bit guilty for the ember of arousal taking shape in her belly. She can’t get enough of his naked vulnerability; Felipe would never be as open. She coos in the boy’s ear, soothing him with softly spoken words and gentle touches.
“Felipe,” she says in their native tongue and fixes her master and lover with an admonishing glare, “you’re scaring him.” What had he been doing with such vile people? His companion, the blond woman, is retched, and Celia took great satisfaction in hearing her scream. Imagine! A woman holding another woman down while others attempt to take her virginity—Celia is furious every time she thinks on it. Perhaps some time with men of similar predispositions will teach her a valuable lesson about loyalty. Not only did she deny her involvement, she implicated the rest of the boy’s motorcycle club, effectively marking them for death. Rafiq does not allow for loose ends.
Celia will not allow the young man in her arms to become another tied end, and neither will Felipe. The boy is valuable for more than one reason.
7. Felipe
Felipe smirks; Celia is smitten. “What is your name?” he asks the boy. He attempts to keep his tone free of judgment or disdain, not quite sure how he feels about Celia’s fascination with the other man, whom, Felipe admits, is quite beautiful and suited to both their predilections. However, there is a fine line between pet and partner, and Felipe won’t let anyone divide Celia’s heart.
“Kid,” the young man says, mostly mouthing the word. “Water? Please?”
“Did you rape the girl?”
“No.” Kid clenches his jaw. Felipe knows he’s been asked the question ad nauseum, and it amuses him that the younger man continues to deny the allegations despite everything. “No,” Kid pleads. “I keep…I keep telling you. Please. Where am I?” He sobs, too dehydrated to produce tears.