Their Boy (The Game 2)

Leaving the woods behind with Colt next to me rattled the cage inside me. People were waiting and watching, and another couple had stepped out of the forest shortly before us. They were almost at the house, and they had friends rushing to meet them.

I shut down further and braced myself for encountering people, even though it was literally the last thing I wanted right now.

I gave no outward reaction when I spotted Lucas leaving one of the seating areas on the deck. But on the inside, I screamed. The pressure built up too fast, and I wasn’t sure I could make it. Oh God, I was going to explode.

Lucas signaled something to Reese, who was standing nearby with his brother and a few others. Whatever it was, it made Reese step farther out on the lawn and whistle sharply.

“Let’s give the Predators and prey some space, people! You do not approach unless you have permission!”

I exhaled.NineteenLucas strode toward us with purpose and impatience in each step, and he addressed Colt when he was some twenty feet away. “What does he need?”

“Room four,” Colt replied.

Lucas gave him a strange look before he composed his face. “For the shower?”

Colt nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Lucas eyed me, worry radiating from him. I didn’t ask anything. I didn’t make eye contact. I didn’t touch him. I merely followed them up the last stretch of the hill and then across the pool deck.

I felt eyes on me everywhere.

“Something’s wrong,” Lucas said.

“Nah.” Colt cleared his throat. Maybe he gestured something. Maybe he—whatever. The two exchanged a few words that were too quiet for me to hear.

“Good Christ.” Okay, I heard that one. It was Lucas. “Okay, but then we go to our place right after. Madigan and Abel are on the front porch of the main house for some downtime.”

The inside of the house was enormous. This was the club area, I deduced. Tables and chairs shared the perimeter with bondage equipment, BDSM furniture, and scene setups, leaving the floor in the middle empty. They must’ve torn down walls when they bought the place. It was completely open, everything painted black, from floorboards to ceiling. There was a bar in one corner, next to a stage, and I spied two doors on the western wall. Office, one read. The other one didn’t have a sign.

We crossed the dance floor and almost-empty downstairs, and we reached the foyer. Two dressing rooms and a small reception desk with a coat check took up the space, along with the stairs leading to the second floor.

Welcome to the haunted house of Virginia, I thought. As soon as we reached the landing and I peered down the hallway, it was like ending up in a horror movie about an old hotel that was haunted. There were no open spaces here, just the corridor, the same black-painted walls, and doors with numbers on them.

Lucas pulled out a card from his wallet that he swiped to open door number four.

I flinched when he turned on the spotlights.

“Sorry, dear.” He dimmed them.

More black. Jesus Christ. Black rubber. It was a shower room with every square inch covered in a black rubber mat, including what reminded me of an examining table, two benches, and a shelf to put belongings on. Or maybe your favorite dildo.

The ceiling on one side of the room had several shower mounts, and the water trickled down into the drain in the center of the floor.

“It’s mainly used by those into water sports,” Colt said.

I stayed near the door, waiting for orders, and said nothing.

Colt turned to Lucas. “I’ll go get us some towels and shit from the supply room. Try to get him to talk.”

“I will.” Lucas touched his arm, and I took a step to the side so Colt could move past me.

Well, now what? I had nothing to say. I had no opinions on anything. My brain fluctuated between utter apathy and struggling to keep the cage locked.

“Come have a seat, Kit.”

I walked over to a bench where Lucas went, and I sat down on it with a wince.

He squatted in front of me and untied my shoes. “How was the game?”

I shrugged.

A crease appeared in his forehead. His worry lines. He set my shoes to the side. “Colt told me you put up a good fight.”

My gaze sharpened and was on him instantly. “He didn’t let me fight.” I barely recognized my own voice; it was raw and scratchy, and damn it, I shouldn’t have said anything. The pressure was quickly becoming too much, and something akin to betrayal burned hotly right below the surface.

That was it. It was betrayal. Colt hadn’t let me fight, and he’d made me promise to give him everything.

“He didn’t let me fight,” I whispered. “Why didn’t he let me fight?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sure he has something planned.” Lucas rose up and lifted my shirt. “Let me take this off. You have scrapes everywhere.” And he hated it, I could tell.