Page 117 of Guitars and Cages

“Stop right there,” he ordered, “and don’t turn around.”

I did as he said, staring at the darkened night through the window as he opened a drawer and rummaged around. I heard the scrape of metal, and then the click of the cuffs as he opened them. Goosebumps broke out all over my body.

“Kneel.”

It was a single word; a short, barked command. I knelt, and hung my head as he cuffed my hands behind my back, and then blindfolded me. He walked wordlessly around me. I could hear the creak of the old floorboards as he moved. He slid his hand into my hair, and I flinched. I waited for him to tug; for the order to come for me to open my mouth. Instead, he stroked my hair, gentle and easy.

“Am I really so bad, Asher? Is this really so horrible that you cannot enjoy it?”

“It isn’t that; I just, I want to do something else with my life,” I whispered.

“Like that beautiful young man you brought with you tonight, Asher—is that what you want to do? Do you think he’d want someone as ignorant and scarred-up as you? He’s got choices men like you and I will never have. You and I, kid, we’re from the same world. You belong with me; why is it so difficult for you to admit that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it stubborn pride, is that it? You don’t like being on your knees in front of me?”

I said nothing as I felt his hand slide down my back. It didn’t hold the same warmth and comfort as Conner’s had. He undid his zipper, and I did what I was supposed to do as his hands gripped my hair, controlling me as he used me.

When he was done he stroked my hair, his fingers caressing my face before he moved away. A moment later I felt him grip the cuffs, tugging at me until pain sliced through my side again. He yanked harder, and I stumbled to my feet, staggering, but he didn’t let me fall. He slid his hand over the front of my jeans, and I gasped and pressed myself more firmly against his palm. He chuckled then. “Look at you, handcuffed and blindfolded and aching for me to do more. Admit it, Asher; say the words. It’s time you face the truth.”

I was silent; I didn’t trust myself to speak while he was touching me.

He continued to stroke me, his voice low and calm, but with an edge like the night before. “So, so stubborn. I should strip you and take you in the middle of that bed, take you until you beg to come work for me each night.”

“No, what you should do is back the fuck up and let go of him!”

I jumped, startled at the sound of Conner’s voice coming from the doorway. The cuffs held me tight, as did Catfish, and I could only imagine what Conner had to be thinking of me right now. Why hadn’t he stayed downstairs like I’d fucking told him to?

“Who the hell do you think you are to give orders to me?” Catfish snarled.

“Conner, go back downstairs,” I pleaded.

Catfish slugged the hell outta me for daring to speak to Conner without his permission, hissing at me to shut up.

“Not unless you’re with me.”

“I suggest you listen to Asher and go back where he left you.”

“I suggest you take the cuffs off him before I make you take them off.”

I could hear the meanness creep into Catfish’s voice. “Do you like this little whore? Did you buy him for the night? How much did you give him? Whatever it was, I doubt it was more than he already owes me.”

I heard the sharp intake of Conner’s breath, and then the creak of the floorboards as he stepped closer.

“Take the fuckin’ cuffs off him, old man.”

I heard what sounded like a hammer being cocked, and then Catfish was taking the cuffs off me. Even then I didn’t reach for the blindfold; I waited for Catfish to take it off me himself. When he did, I saw Conner with a snub-nosed .45 leveled at Catfish.

“Let’s go, Asher.”

“You’ve made the biggest fuckin’ mistake of your life, you little son of a bitch—and Asher, your debt just doubled. Now get the fuck outta here, both of you!”

I grabbed Conner’s arm, tugging, my voice low as I pleaded with him to come on. He stood there a minute, glaring at Catfish, before letting me propel him from the room. We ran down the steps and out of River’s End, jumping on the bike and taking off as soon as he got the helmet fastened. I could feel him shaking as he held on tight, which wasn’t helping my driving ’cause I was pretty shaky myself, especially with the way my arms had been cuffed behind my back. I almost sent us into a skid twice before we made it back to Conner’s apartment. I was too ashamed to even look at him when he climbed off the back of the bike. I jerked away when he put a hand on my shoulder.

“You and I need to talk,” he said, his voice ragged.

“I got nothing to say,” I muttered.