Their Boy (The Game 2)

I didn’t care. My underwear was wet from Colt’s come too. Didn’t care about that either.

I let Lucas take off my clothes, though, as I battled the internal hell demanding to be unleashed.

Once my jeans and shirt were on the floor, Lucas cursed under his breath. He saw the blotches of fresh bruises forming along my thighs. My torso and arms hid most of the marks with my tattoos, but I still felt them.

The door opened, and Colt walked in with three thick black towels under his arm. He had two bottles of something in his hand too.

Anger ignited in me as his stare landed on me.

Why didn’t you let me fight?

“He’s upset,” Lucas murmured.

“Good.” Colt set down the towels and walked over to the shower, where he left the two bottles. “So, I learned somethin’ new about our boy tonight. He loves the thrill.”

Lucas’s gaze flickered to me, curiosity mingling with the concern.

“Which is like winnin’ the lottery for me, obviously.” Colt pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing battered skin, much like mine. “We’ll have a lot of explorin’ to do in that arena, Kit, and I can’t fuckin’ wait. But it wasn’t what we needed tonight.”

“You didn’t let me fight,” I stated hoarsely. “I hate you for it.”

“Kit,” Lucas admonished, shocked.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” Colt walked toward me slowly, and he unbuttoned his jeans. “I got him where I want him now.”

All the frustration, all the vague comments, and all the rage mixed together and formed an explosive without a fuse, and I was seconds away from erupting. “Why didn’t you let me fight?”

“Because you liked it too much,” he answered. “You weren’t angry enough to flip your shit, so I cut you off. I had my suspicions before, but not like this. There’s a primal prey in you that hasn’t been allowed to come out and play yet.”

I met his glare with a murderous one of my own. “You made me promise,” I gritted out.

“And then we both learned something new about you,” he pointed out. “I ain’t a mind reader, boy. I needed to piss you off so you’d blow, and I could tell you wouldn’t do it out there. You were too exhilarated, and the fighting would’ve given you a release if we’d kept going.”

I scoffed. This bastard—unfuckingbelievable. “I wasn’t even hard, you fucking idiot.”

“Not the type of release I’m talkin’ about.”

“Guys—”

“No.” Colt cut Lucas off. “This is how it’s gonna be. He’ll get his fight now that he’s actually mad—here, where he can’t injure himself too much. Unless he’s too chickenshit to face—”

He pushed the wrong button. I launched myself at him with a scream, and nothing they did or said could stop me. I couldn’t even stop me. Completely ruled by fury, I pounded my fists on his chest until he stopped me, and then I switched to kicking at him instead. He couldn’t be everywhere.

I became blind and deaf.

I thrashed against Colt, seeing nothing but red, angry swirls of hatred and grief and loneliness and agitation before my eyes. I wanted to punch each goddamn emotion, and I sure as hell tried.

“Let go of me!” I yelled.

There was pressure on my chest, and I realized I wasn’t even standing anymore. We were on the floor, and he was on top of me. Something else snapped inside me, and I used all my strength to get on top. I kept hitting him wherever I could reach, and the fucking Sadist was so fast. He dodged most blows and stopped several others.

“You can do more than that, Kit,” Colt growled. “Come on!”

His voice sounded far away, almost as if it was underwater.

I toppled over when he got the upper hand again, and I screamed. I fucking screamed, and the images that flashed before me didn’t belong. “Nooo!” I saw my parents, I drowned in the uneasy standstill I was at with Vincent, I felt the emptiness of my home. “You shouldn’t have left me!” A despaired wail left my body, and gut-wrenching pain tore me to pieces. “I-I don’t wanna be lonely again,” I sobbed. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.”

I curled into the fetal position right there on the rubber floor, and I let the screams and breathless cries take me.* * *“I can’t stop weeping.” I sniffled and screwed my eyes shut so Lucas could wash the shampoo out of my hair. “Oh… Here I go again,” I whined, a new round of tears rolling down my cheeks.

“It’ll be a while, little one.” Lucas ran the shower head over my head and cupped my cheek lovingly. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders for so long. Give it time.”

I reached behind me blindly to find Colt, and I grabbed on to his arm. “Daddy, you’re not leaving, are you?”

They weren’t allowed to leave me.