by D. J. Heart
“You like that?” Mick asked, his voice rough and low. Mason looked up at him, his expression confused. “You like the taste of your alphas’ come?”
Mason licked his lips and smiled, nodding. “It’s good.”
Mick leaned down and kissed Mason on the mouth, tasting himself. When he pulled back his lips were shiny and he was grinning.
“I agree,” he said, licking his lips. Mason’s eyes were wide, and he was breathing hard.
“Kinky fucker,” Chris breathed. When Mick looked up the other alpha had a pleased expression on his face, and Mick grinned wider.
“You love it.” He’d never felt so happy.
Chris grinned back, his eyes bright and happy. “I do.”
***
Mick went to shower while Chris and Mason waited for Chris’s knot to deflate, and then went down to make breakfast. He’d just finished frying the eggs when Chris and Mason walked into the room. They were both freshly showered, their hair wet and drops of moisture still clinging to Chris’s bare arms, and the scent of sex lingered under the aroma of soap and body wash.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” Mick said, shifting the eggs over to the three plates he had laid out.
“Great,” Chris said, sitting down. Mick put the plate in front of him, looking to Mason who was standing by his chair with a scrunched up expression.
“What?” he asked.
“My ass hurts,” Mason said, looking at the chair like it had personally offended him. Chris snorted and Mick felt his balls tighten. Mason’s ass had every reason to be sore. Between the rough fuck Mick had delivered the night before and the back-to-back fucking this morning, Mason’s hole had been downright abused.
“Do you need a pillow?” he asked, not the least bit sorry.
“No,” Mason grumbled, sitting down with a wince. Mick leaned down and kissed the top of his head, grabbing his chin and squeezing it before going back to get his own plate. “Dig in!”
“This is good,” Mason said, shoveling eggs and toast into his mouth like he was starving. “I love bacon.”
“Me too,” Mick said, happy that his omega was satisfied with what he’d provided. It was a weird instinct—the need to see Mason eat—but it was extremely satisfying.
“So what are we doing today?” Mason asked when he’d made his way through two slices of bread and both his eggs. He put his knife and fork down and looked at Mick and Chris in turn.
“Well, I have to work,” Chris said, looking to Mick.
“I was thinking you and I could go for a hike,” Mick said. Mason blinked, not looking too happy with that idea.
“A hike?”
“Yes. It’ll get us out of the house and give Chris a chance to work in peace. Besides, some exercise will do you good.”
Mason narrowed his eyes. “Are you calling me fat?”
Chris snorted out a laugh, and Mick grinned and shook his head.
“No. I’m just saying a walk will be good for you.”
“Good, so that’s settled,” Chris said. He got up and put his plate in the sink. “I’m just going to go up and change. Are you guys leaving soon or do you want to wait a bit?”
Mick could tell that Chris wanted them to leave soon. He obviously wanted to get to work on the guys in the basement, and the further Mason was from that the better.
“Let us just get our shoes and coats on and we’ll be on our way.”
Mason frowned, but he didn’t object.
***
Chapter 26
Mason trudged after Mick as they made their way through the forest, struggling to keep up with Mick’s much longer legs. He was slightly out of breath, though the view of the alpha’s behind almost made up for the discomfort.
Mick was wearing tight jeans, boots and a leather jacket, and though he looked more like he was heading out to a bar than going on a hike, the look worked for him. Mason was much more sensibly dressed in sneakers and a thick sweatshirt.
“Can you slow down?” Mason asked for the third time after nearly tripping over a root sticking up from the ground. They weren’t following any trail that Mason could see, and walking fast and watching where he was going was difficult.
“Oh, sorry,” Mick said, slowing down and letting Mason catch up. Mason reached out and took his hand, mostly just to anchor him, his stomach fluttering as Mick’s much larger fingers wrapped around his own.
“This is nice,” Mick said, looking at the trees around them. Mason followed his gaze, taking in their surroundings. It was nice out. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and a slight breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees. The scene was pretty much perfect.
“I don’t really go hiking much,” Mason said, enjoying the slower pace. He still didn’t really know how to act around Mick.
“More of an indoor study type?” Mick asked, no judgment in his voice.
“That and work,” Mason said. “It’s not like I have time for much else.”
“So when do you go back to school?” Mick asked.
Mason shrugged, not really sure. He hadn’t registered for his fall classes yet, and he definitively hadn’t paid his tuition bill. If he was going back in August, he’d need to get both issues sorted as soon as possible.
“I don’t know. I used up all my money for my mom’s treatment, so I can’t really pay for it. I guess I might take a year off and save up some money and then go back next year.”
Mick shook his head. “Don’t worry about the money. Chris and I can cover that. Besides, once you start working as a doctor you’ll be raking it in. The way I see it, it’s a pretty smart investment on our part.”
Mason looked up at Mick’s face, not sure how he felt about that. On the one hand it was great, but he didn’t want to be the kind of omega who just let his alphas handle all his problems.
“You’re not going to be stubborn about this, are you?” Mick asked. He sounded stern, and Mason felt a thrill of arousal. He was surprised by how much he liked it when Chris and Mick were forceful with him.
“I’m just used to figuring things out myself,” Mason said. He bit his lip and looked up at Mick. “But it would be nice if you guys helped me.”
“Yeah?”
Mason nodded. Letting his alphas solve some of his problems didn’t sound so bad. He’d worked his ass off to make it into medical school, and he really wanted to finish on time.
They kept walking, moving through the woods without talking. It was interesting to watch the way Mick moved. He was graceful and fast, and Mason had the impression that if he’d been by himself he would have been three times as fast and twice as silent.
“Are we going anywhere?” Mason asked after they’d been walking for an hour and a half. He was getting a little sweaty, and his legs were starting to get tired. Mick looked down at him with a grin.
“There’s a lake about eight miles from here. I figured we’d head there and then turn back.”
Eight miles? That seemed like a lot.
“How long is it going to take?” Mason asked, worried. Mick was obviously in tremendous shape, and Mason was worried he was overestimating Mason’s abilities.
“At this pace? About four or five hours,” Mick said.
“What?” Mason asked, stopping. Mick dropped his hand and turned around, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s not that long, and we’ll be home in time for lunch.”
“Can’t we keep it a little shorter?” Mason asked.
“Nope. This is the short route. The long route goes around the lake and would take another three hours.”
“I’m already tired,” Mason said, biting the inside of his cheek. Mick didn’t look sympathetic. He crossed his arms and smirked.
“If it gets to be too much I’ll carry you.”
Mason considered that an acceptable compromise, though if he’d known Mick intended their hike to be this long, he would have insisted they bring snacks.
***
Chapter 27
Wi
th Mick and Mason out of the house, Chris was free to interrogate his captives. He changed into a pair of black cargo pants, black sweater and leather gloves and headed into the basement where Vincent and Eric were waiting for him.
Eric would probably be the tougher nut to crack. He was a career criminal, and from what Chris knew he’d started out in the trenches and worked his way up to his current position. He was no stranger to violence, and Chris didn’t think he’d talk without serious persuasion.
Vincent, on the other hand, was an academic. Violence wasn’t part of his life, and he was about as far removed from his alpha roots as it was possible to be.
He checked on Vincent first. The bag connected to the alpha’s I.V. was empty, and he’d managed to pull the needle out of his arm. He was still trussed up, hands and legs bound in a tight hogtie, but he’d wriggled his way halfway across the room.
“Morning,” Chris said, flicking on the light and moving through the door. Vincent’s eyes went wide at the sight of him and Chris allowed himself a menacing grin. He didn’t normally enjoy this part of the job, but today he’d make an exception.
Bending down, he grabbed the rope connecting Vincent’s arms and legs and hoisted him up in the air. Vincent cried out, thrashing back and forth, shouting obscenities. Chris carried him over to the spot where he’d left him the night before and dropped him down.
“Vincent Conroy. That’s you, right?” he asked. It was always best to start of with questions he knew the answer to.
Vincent didn’t answer and Chris sighed. He bent down and crouched next to Vincent’s head, grabbing him by the hair and tilting his head back.
“I expect you to answer my questions, Vince. Do you understand?”
Vincent grit his teeth together and looked away, his expression one of furious defiance.
Chris dropped his hair and walked back into the hall where he’d left his bag. He carted it inside and dropped it to the floor, grinning when Vincent flinched at the ominous clinking sound it made when it landed. Chris crouched down and removed a handheld blowtorch, a knife and a roll of duct tape, making sure Vincent had a good view.
“What are you going to do?” Vincent asked, his voice wavering. Chris ignored him. He’d had his chance to talk and blown it.
“You should have answered my questions,” he said, carrying his items over to Vincent. He set the knife and blowtorch down in front of his face, peeling off a strip of duct tape and holding the whole roll up by the small length. “Now I have to hurt you.”
Chris pushed the end of the duct tape into Vincent’s mouth and started wrapping it around his head. He held Vincent’s mouth open with his fingers on the first few rounds, getting the tape into his mouth and gagging him. Then he wrapped the tape over Vincent’s lips until the lower half of his face was covered.
Vincent struggled, thrashing his body as Chris worked, but it was no use. His arms and legs were completely incapacitated, and Chris had no problem holding him still. Looking down at him, he considered how best to move forward. He wanted Vincent to be terrified and in pain, but not so much pain that he couldn’t talk.
“You brought this on yourself,” he said, squeezing the alpha’s jaw and looking him right in the eye. Vincent growled, the sound barely audible, and Chris flipped him over into his side and proceeded to rip open his shirt. Vincent was breathing hard, nostrils flaring, and his chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Now, I want you to think about what you’re going to do the next time I ask you a question. Okay?” He picked up his blowtorch and turned it on, turning the blue flame on the shaft of his knife.
Vincent’s struggles increased, and Chris grinned. He lifted his thigh over Vincent’s body and sat down, pinning him to the concrete floor and preventing him from turning back on his stomach. He put the blowtorch down and examined his canvas.
Vincent was going to regret ever getting involved with omega trafficking.
***
When Chris rose off Vincent’s chest an hour later, the alpha was hyperventilating and his skin was clammy and cold.
“We’re not done,” Chris said casually, walking over to his bag and putting the knife away. It wasn’t bloody, though it had inflicted its fair share of damage. The smell of burned meat permeated the room, and Chris knew that Vincent had to be in an enormous amount of pain.
He deserved it.
Rummaging around in his bag, Chris finally decided on a set of nipple clamps and electricity for act two. He walked back to where Vincent was shivering on the floor, snot running from his nose and his eyes wet with tears, and connected the vicious clamps to his nipples.
Vincent bucked, closing his eyes as fresh tears fell down his face.
“When I get back we’re going to try this again,” Chris said, giving the clamps a little tug. “And this time you’re going to answer every question I have. Nod if you understand.”
Vincent nodded, closing his eyes and practically giving himself whiplash.
“Good, because next time I’m not going to be this nice.” Chris clapped Vincent on the face, grabbing his jaw and giving it a little squeeze. “Do you understand?”
Vincent nodded, but the look in his eyes was incredulous. It was like he couldn’t imagine how things could get worse.
Hopefully Chris wouldn’t have to show him.
“I’m keeping you intact, Vincent,” Chris explained. “But if you piss me off again, I’m going to start mutilating you. That’s not something you want.”
Vincent shuddered and started hyperventilating again, and Chris dropped his face. He was going to make himself pass out again if he kept this up.
Connecting the electrical stimulator box to the nipple clamps, Chris set it to a random interval program on the highest setting. The first shock made Vincent rear back and scream into his gag, and Chris patted him on the shoulder.
“I’ll be back in a little while. You’re not the only guy I’m talking to.”
Chris got up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and headed out of the room. He locked the door in case Vincent against all odds managed to get free. With Vincent hopefully primed for a fruitful interrogation, Chris headed into Eric’s room.
“Hello, Eric,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”
“You!” Eric shouted, the fury in his voice evident. He sounded genuinely surprised to see Chris. Like Vincent he’d gotten the I.V. out of his arm, and he’d pushed himself into the corner of the room.
“Marlow is going to have your fucking balls for this, Chris. We go way back!”
Chris snorted and dropped his bag on the floor.
“Marlow thinks you’re working with someone to take over his territory,” Chris said, moving toward the bound alpha. “He sent me here.”
Eric narrowed his eyes, but he no longer looked surprised.
“So you’re supposed to figure out who I’m working with?” he laughed. “Good luck, kid.”
Chris licked his lips and grinned. Eric wasn’t just some money guy working behind the scenes. He actively trafficked omegas, and Chris had no intention of going easy on him.
“I don’t really care about that,” Chris said. He crouched down and tilted his head. “I’m more interested in who’s pulling Marlow’s strings.”
Eric gave him a considering stare—no mean feat considering he was lying hogtied on the floor—and then he rolled his eyes.
“You think you have what it takes to take over?” He laughed. “Please. You might think you’re tough, but you don’t have the stomach for this business.”
Chris shook his head. Eric wasn’t taking him seriously, and it was time to change that. Chris wasn’t some entry-level thug. He was a trained black ops operative who had done things that would make most alphas throw up—including guys like Eric.
Breaking him was going to be fun.
“I also want to know who you’re working for,” Chris said, rising from his crouch and walking back to his bag. He pulled out the roll of duct
tape and a thick leather hood. Within a minute Eric was gagged, and Chris had the thick leather hood over his head and laced up tight.
Now he was free to get to work without having to listen to Eric scream.
***
When he was done with Eric, Chris broke for lunch. He made himself a sandwich and ate it standing by the counter, wondering how Mason was enjoying his hike.
