Their Bounty (Dark Gay Harem Contemporary Romance) (Four Mercenaries Book 1)

by K. A. Merikan

  “Fuck! You motherfucker!” Boar yelled at the top of his lungs and shot the man straight in the face.

  The impact made the assailant fall back, but Boar wasn’t bleeding any less because of it. In the headset, he heard yelling, the screech of wheels, but he was too far away to see what was going on. He took one glance at the knife in his thigh, decided against ripping it out, and crawled back to the rifle.

  He was about to peek through the scope when the walls shook from a sudden explosion and made him fall back, pain spreading through his entire leg. His head was a ball of hot air when he looked at the huge blade stuck in his thigh. He couldn’t afford to take it out so far away from a hospital, and moving could only make the problem it posed worse.

  “Guys?” he shouted into the headset, crawling back up to the drumming of gunshots. They all counted on the explosives entrapping the enemy, but hope died in Boar’s heart when he kneeled and saw two of the black cars speeding away in a cloud of dust. Chunks of the road were missing where the bombs had gone off, and while one of the three black limos lay on its roof surrounded by bodies, Clover was nowhere in sight.

  “Get down here! They’ve got Clover!” Tank yelled. “We’re only alive because they got spooked by the explosives. Why didn’t you shoot?”

  “What did you mean about the trap?” Pyro added quickly.

  Boar swallowed hard, staring through the scope at the three men that were his family. Everyone he cared about was alive at least.

  “Someone crept up on me. I’m hurt,” he said, still unsure what to do about the wound. There was a chance the blade hadn’t cut through an artery. But it was big, and while he was no expert on anatomy, he was positive it could have grazed a major blood vessel. He didn’t want to die because of some motherfucker. Not before Clover was safe.

  “Fuck! I’ll be right up there!” Pyro said and ran toward the building.

  Boar groaned, struggling to get up. Pain was like burning coals stuck in his flesh, getting hotter by the second as adrenaline wore off. “No, you’ve got to follow them.”

  “Clover’s got a tracker,” Tank said. “We were prepared for this possibility, even if it’s not optimal.”

  Boar saw red. “Not optimal? Our boy’s been taken. He could be raped and tortured. It sure isn’t fucking optimal!”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Tank yelled back. “Someone’s gotta stay calm so that we can regroup and deal with the fallout!”

  Despite Boar’s desire to ensure Clover’s safety, the sound of hurried footsteps still made him relax somewhat, and the sight of Pyro’s blue hair put a smile on his face, regardless of how not on-plan the situation was.

  “I’ll follow them on the bike so that we don’t lose signal,” Tank said through the headset. “You take the cars and follow my lead as fast as you can.”

  “Don’t lose him,” Boar whispered when Pyro kneeled next to him. Only up close did he realize his lover must have rolled into the dirt at some point during the fight, because the left side of his face was covered with brown dust. His eyes were wide, lips twisted.

  “What the fuck, Boar? You said you were hurt, not that there’s a knife sticking out of your leg. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Detour, guys. I’ll be taking him to the hospital,” Pyro said, already helping Boar up. He was shorter than Boar, but his strength meant he could hold most of Boar’s weight, letting him save the injured leg. Still, Boar could feel the blade shift in his flesh, and the numbness that had overcame his body after the stab was now over.

  “No. You can’t waste time on me,” he said, accepting the help regardless. He bumped his head against Pyro’s and briefly closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him.

  Pyro’s eyes flashed with anger, but he was extremely careful on the way to the stairs. “Just shut up.”

  “Do whatever’s needed,” Tank said, but his voice was already crackling, which meant he was off and putting more distance between them than the communication devices could take.

  Boar winced when he stepped down too abruptly. “No, I won’t shut up. Clover trusts us. I made him a promise, and now he’s with some vile woman who wanted him at all cost, as if he were a fucking collectible!”

  Pyro shook his head with an expression of permanent fury. “Shouldn’t have gotten stabbed then. We’ve got to deal with it, or you won’t be of any use to Clover either.”

  “I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time any of us is injured. Just leave me one car.”

  Drake, who’s been silent so far, spoke in an even voice. “That’s ridiculous. Pyro, do you need help?”

  “I’ve got this,” Pyro said through his teeth, helping Boar down the stairs, which were a particular challenge in his state. Each downward move pulled on Boar’s elevated leg and made him feel as if the blade drilled farther inside him.

  “It’s not. It’s my left leg. You just help me into the car, and I’ll drive myself to a hospital.”

  “You’re bleeding, idiot!” Pyro huffed by the time they emerged into the sunlight, and Drake approached them to support Boar from the other side.

  “Let me fucking do this! I’m not trying to play the hero, but I can’t bear Clover having less of a shot at safety, just because you had to drive me to the hospital like I was some old lady! I… He’s ours, Pyro.” Boar took a deep breath and gave Pyro a kiss to communicate all that he wasn’t able to convey with words. “I’ll be fine. Please, go get our boy.”

  Pyro’s stiff, flushed face twitched, and he briefly looked away, arm tightening around Boar’s waist. “You’re mine too.”

  Boar swallowed the tightness in his throat, hugging his lover to show how much he still meant to him after all the years together. “And you’re mine. But you know how I feel about him. I know that for all your talk, you care for him just as much. I can’t help him now, but you can get him back for us. You need to do this. Please. If I weren’t injured and went with you now, I’d be at risk too, and you would have let me take that risk.”

  Drake remained silent, but he opened the door of the pickup truck on the driver’s side.

  Pyro’s nose flared when he met Boar’s gaze. His face was an ever-changing palette of emotion, but in the end he nodded and led Boar to the vehicle. “Don’t you fucking dare die.”

  Boar gave him one more kiss, but Drake was getting twitchy. “We’ve got to go, whatever you decide. I will not have Clover on my conscience.”

  Pyro helped Boar into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him. “Check in as often as you can!”

  Boar nodded and started the pickup. He wanted to be there for Clover, but he’d only be slowing everyone down. The best he could do was force Pyro to go.

  Chapter 20 – Clover

  Clover could not resist the power of the strong arms around him even if he weren’t cuffed. Even if he didn’t have a bag on his head. The fabric stuck to his face every time he breathed in, and the sparsity of oxygen made his head spin. He had no idea how long they’d traveled, but from the moment a huge goon removed him from the vehicle, the sense of entrapment made him even more frantic. He heard a loud barking. Deep, hoarse tones. A big dog.

  He was so afraid that when he bit his lip, he didn’t even notice when it started bleeding.

  In the car, he’d at least understood his position, but now even that had been taken from him. He didn’t attempt to struggle, since that could end up with a beating or a harsh landing on the ground.

  What if their plan was misguided? What if the guys failed to track him down? His heart beat wildly. Each step taken by the man who carried him on his broad shoulder resonated in his bones, producing new layers of fear.

  Once the barking became no more than background noise, Clover’s world turned quiet, narrowed down to the huffing of the thug and the clicking of the woman’s high heels. He tried to focus on whatever information his limited senses could gather—scents or anything else that might hint at where he was—but found nothing specific enough. Trees. The smell of plants. No traffic. Hardl
y enough to provide clues about his location.

  The place where Tank had put in the tracker still hurt, but Clover treasured the constant itch of the wound for reminding him that help was on the way. Unless the device failed to produce a strong enough signal. Or the signal got somehow blocked. In that case, his life would be over. He’d be someone’s property forever.

  He was startled to hear loud trills, because birds were loudest in the morning, and he was positive it was way past daytime. And the vocalizations the birds made? Those didn’t sound quite right either. It was as if he was in a zoo, in an aviary.

  “Here we are,” the woman said in a soft voice, and Clover recoiled when her slender hand stroked his shoulder as if he were a dog.

  He didn’t want to think of the things these people might want him for. He’d agreed to be the bait, he’d known the risk, yet all he wanted now was to be back in Tank’s arms, confident about his safety.

  A soothing voice cooed, “It’s okay, shhh… My name is Diana, and you’re safe. So skittish.”

  Clover stifled a scream when his position changed, but when his bare feet touched grass, it was as if the cool ground provided all the safety Clover needed. No longer relying on someone else to carry him, he was relieved to keep his body steady despite the cuff on his ankle. A light came on, teasing him through the tiny gaps between thread.

  But before he could have even considered blindly darting off, something tugged on his leg, and the chain that settled against his foot was a physical reminder that there was no escape. His lungs convulsed, sucking in all too much air, so he tried to even out his breathing in an effort to stay calm, even though the fastening around his neck felt tighter with each passing second.

  He heard Diana step closer and tried not to flinch when her longish nails moved over the exposed skin of his forearm. “You’re so pretty. You can have all the soft serve you want tonight.”

  Clover frowned. What. The. Fuck. Was she offering him ice cream? Did she think he was five, or something?

  He shivered like a newborn lamb when someone pulled the bag off his head and bright light assaulted his eyes. He’d used contact lenses today in case his glasses fell off, but after being stuck in the dark, it took him a couple of moments to get used to the bright colors and light. When he finally looked around, the lush green of tropical plants had his mouth falling open.

  He was surrounded by a magnificent courtyard garden enclosed within brick walls. Elaborately arranged flower beds adorned patches of grass organized neatly between tiled paths. Sprouts of pink and violet were interwoven with small yellow flowers, which were like rays of sunshine peeking through afternoon clouds.

  Lamps mounted on large enclosures of cast iron provided just enough light to see nearby details without dispersing the intimate atmosphere reminiscent of a Victorian aviary. The cage interiors remained in the shadow, though he could spot plants inside, so maybe that was where all the chirping was coming from?

  His breath caught when Diana pulled on his arm, because that was when he first saw a nearby cage. Not as big as the others, it was made with golden-hued bars and had a pagoda-like roof. With a walking space the size of a single bed, it would have looked like a luxurious enclosure for a house pet if it wasn’t for the fact that it featured a portable toilet in there, along with a supply with bottled water and a basket of vanilla cupcakes.

  Air wouldn’t reach his lungs no matter how hard he tried to breathe.

  “No… please. Look, I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t lock me up in here.”

  Diana pushed back her hair, at ease with the bodyguard at her side and the cuffs on Clover’s wrists and ankle. Middle-aged but youthful and with a flair to her fashion choices, as evidenced by the pink streak in her hair and the violet lipstick, she could’ve been a colorful Cruella De Vil. Quite appropriate for someone involved in human trafficking.

  Whenever she spoke, the soothing tone of her voice pushed Clover closer to the edge of insanity. “Oh, sweet thing, don’t be so contrarian. We don’t want your beautiful face to wrinkle earlier than necessary.”

  Her bodyguard might have been a cardboard-cutout video game goon. Bald, big, and with a stern face that looked as if it had never been touched by thought. He would have been ridiculous in any fictional scenario. But this was reality, and that made the man terrifying.

  “W-what is this?” Clover uttered, but his attention darted to the scissors in the goon’s hands.

  Diana’s face lit up, as if she were excited to share. “You’ll become the newest part of my menagerie. Once you’re broken in, I’ll have a comfier place prepared for you,” she said and rubbed Clover’s chest as if she were petting an animal.

  This couldn’t be real. She was not right in the head, no matter how classy she appeared on the outside.

  Clover flinched when the goon grabbed the front of his T-shirt, but it was when the scissors cut through the fabric that all his senses rang in alarm. A yelp escaped his lips when the cold metal slid against his skin, and whatever beauty Clover saw in this garden drained and soaked into the ground, turning into mud. Colors bled out, revealing the ugly truth of where Clover really was. Under the leaf of a large succulent, he spotted a speaker from which the bird songs originated. No flowers could obscure the fact that he was about to be put in a cage.

  He took a deep breath when the man pulled the T-shirt off him but tried to think on his feet and angled his body in hopes the fresh wound on his back would go unnoticed. “What will you do to me?” he asked because at this point it was obvious pleading wouldn’t have any effect. Not with her. She’d already disregarded him as a human being and treated him as someone to use however she wished.

  Diana smiled as if she’d been waiting for this question all along. “I will take care of you.”

  Clover wasn’t sure about her meaning anymore when the man forced his jeans and underwear down. It didn’t matter that Clover had enjoyed so much semi-public sex in the past two months. He was still overcome by shame and fought the hot flush trailing up his body when cool air teased naked skin. Dread filled his heart, but there was no way for him to cower and hide his nakedness.

  “In a cage?” he whispered.

  Diana sighed and stroked Clover’s cheek with soft fingers. “You will get a bigger one soon, but a specimen like you can’t survive in the wild. You will be safe here, with lots of play time and delicious food.”

  Panic clawed at Clover’s brain when he thought of his exposed back and the obvious wound by his shoulder blade. The tracker was his sole protection from a forever under this creepy woman’s heel, and he needed to keep it hidden at all cost. If he only managed to do that, his men would come for him. They’d keep their promise and take him home.

  For so long, he trusted no one. Even Jerry, the man closest to what he might consider family, ended up betraying him. Yet Clover still had faith in people. No matter how much he sometimes wished to be a lone wolf and rely on himself, companionship was something he craved. With his four men, he was never alone if he didn’t wish to be. Someone always had time for him, and someone always gave him attention.

  The prospect of being stuck on his own in a tiny space was a nightmare in ways he’d never considered. He’d go crazy. He’d end up like Tom Hanks, talking to a ball in Cast Away within just a couple of days.

  Fear crept up Clover’s back and soon put an invisible collar around his neck. If he was to survive this, he needed to at least pretend to play by her rules. “So… what kind of play do you have in mind?” he uttered, turning to keep his back hidden as inconspicuously as he could. It was crunch time. The tracker pulsed under the swollen skin so with so much intensity he feared she might hear it, but for now the device remained undetected. Stress was already parching his mouth and brain alike.

  But Diana only smiled and rubbed his chest in a weirdly impersonal way. Her hands were so cold he had to keep himself from flinching with sheer willpower.

  “Well, I have things to do, but I’ll provide you with ti
me for exercise, and I’m sure that you’ll get to watch the other specimens.”

  “Other… albinos?” Was this her thing? Was she gathering albino animals, and needed a human as the highlight of her collection?

  Diana laughed. “Oh, no. It wouldn’t be much of a menagerie if I only collected one type of human, would it? Ava, show yourself. I know you’re watching,” Diana called out, gazing toward one of the large cages surrounding the little patch of grass and flowers that housed Clover’s new dwelling.

  Something moved in the shadows, but Clover’s head turned into an empty drum when a child-sized figure appeared right behind the bars. She was naked too, and despite her long curls covering much of her chest, Clover couldn’t avoid noticing that she was definitely an adult woman. And when she turned to the side, the curve of her pregnant belly became impossible to miss.

  Clover swallowed hard, frantic yet unable to do anything about it for as long as his leg was cuffed to an iron loop emerging from the grass. He heard Diana speak, but her voice sounded dull, as if it were coming from behind a wall.

  “I run quite a successful breeding program here. You might be lonely now, but I’ll find a suitable partner for you soon enough.”

  Clover stared at her, his eyes so wide it felt as if they were about to fall out of their sockets. This was next level insanity, and he had no way to run. What had he done? He should have never entrusted his life to men he’d only met two months ago. Their relationship was intense like no other before, and Clover loved them with all his heart, but would they actually save him from the vile monster standing in front of him in a pretty dress and high heels?

  What if they decided to cut their losses and move on?

  What if they were dead?

  Clover’s eyes instantly watered, and he refused to even consider a possibility so horrendous. He would have rather rotted in this hellhole than have any of his men die.

  His thoughts were a whirlwind of fear when the goon spun him to face the cage, and the heat of Diana’s gaze burned his naked back. Game over.