Page 74

“Tie him up in the truck while we get Matty back, then we’ll decide.”
“Wait,” Ti-Tac said. “What if I go? This guy knows who I am. I can say Coombes sent me. Make up some shit about Degrassi needing to pay me to keep my mouth shut. It would get the door open, and then it would be up to you.” He hesitated. "You just gotta promise my mom will be okay."
"You don't really think that either of them will leave loose ends like you, do you?" I asked baldly, and Tik Tac blanched even more.
I closed my eyes to concentrate. I hadn’t done any sort of extraction since I left the army, and that was with trained professionals.
“Bear?” I glanced at Bolt. “If Tik Tac can get Degrassi to at least see him, it gives us a chance to get to him. These guys have money and connections. They’re just tying up loose ends, then they’ll move him to fuck knows where. And what happens if this guy thinks Matty is too much trouble? Coombes wants him dead. What if he persuades Degrassi that would be better all the way around? I don’t see that we have a choice.”
Matty
I stared at Degrassi, my knees already aching from the hard floor. I'd been kneeling naked for what felt like hours, my back straight, hands resting palms-up on my thighs just as he'd demanded. The position itself wasn't difficult—I remembered all his training—but the mental strain of staying perfectly still under his critical gaze was exhausting, and being in this position for so long, I could barely feel my legs.
"That's it," he murmured, circling me like a predator. "You do remember. Your form is almost perfect." He tapped my shoulder with the riding crop. "Chin higher."
I adjusted my position, hating how easily my body responded to his commands. It was muscle memory, conditioned responses he'd convinced me were how a submissive should behave over those terrible months before I ran.
It had started innocently. After suffering rejection after rejection, I'd trawled different clubs, getting increasingly desperate, and the first time someone showed an interest, I'd fallen quickly. I'd been so stupid, I'd even moved into his house for three months. After all, it was a luxury home, and what I felt I deserved back then.
But then the slight frowns of displeasure started. Small comments about my position, my submissive nature. So, I tried harder, and harder, until he locked me in the cellar for four days.
The first chance I got after that I ran back to my godfather's. A month later I rebelled again, but this time it was to get the apartment and a job.
"Good boy," he praised, the words making my skin crawl. He continued circling, assessing me from every angle. "You know, Matthew, this could be so much easier for both of us if you simply accepted your place."
I kept my eyes forward, focusing on a point on the wall. Don't engage, don't argue. That only made things worse. I'd learned that lesson painfully during our previous "relationship."
"Nothing to say?" Degrassi asked, his voice dangerously soft. "That's unusual for you. You always had such... spirit."
When I remained silent, he moved to stand directly in front of me, crouching down to my level. His face was inches from mine, his cologne overwhelming—expensive and cloying, just like everything about him.
"I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "what your biker would think if he could see you now? Kneeling so prettily, so well-trained." His fingers brushed my cheek, and I fought the urge to flinch away. "Do you kneel for him like this? Or does he prefer you playing with dolls?"
My breath caught. He was trying to provoke me, to make me react, to give him an excuse to punish me. I kept my eyes fixed on that spot on the wall, trying to empty my mind.
"It's fascinating, really," Degrassi continued, standing again. "This regression of yours. I've studied it extensively since you left. Such an interesting psychological phenomenon." He tapped the crop against his palm rhythmically. "A response to trauma, perhaps? Or simply weakness of character?"
Don't react. Don't give him what he wants.
"I bet he indulges it, doesn't he? Your 'Daddy.'" The word sounded obscene in his mouth. "Buys you toys, lets you play make-believe, coddles you like the child you pretend to be."
Something must have flickered in my expression because Degrassi smiled, the kind of smile that never reached his eyes.
"Ah, there it is. You're thinking about him now, aren't you? Wondering if he's looking for you. If he'll rescue you." He walked backwards. “Crawl to me.”
I gritted my teeth. My legs were numb, but as I fell forward, the sudden blood flow to them made me cry out in agony. I heard the hiss of air, then pain bloomed on my back so sharply my arms gave out and I fell forward. He’d been holding the crop for hours, but this…he’d hit me with it.
“Get up, he snarled. “Crawl over to me and kiss my boots.”
But I couldn’t move. My arms were shaking so much they wouldn’t lock.
"Pathetic," Degrassi spat, delivering another strike that sent fire across my shoulders. "Perhaps you need motivation."
He walked to his desk and picked up his phone, tapping the screen before turning it toward me. My blood froze as I saw what appeared to be live footage of the Diamond Kings compound.
"Such a nice place," he remarked casually. "Would be a shame if something happened to it...or to those adorable children I saw at the barbecue."
With renewed determination, I forced my trembling limbs to move, crawling inch by agonizing inch across the cold floor toward him. Each movement sent sharp needles of pain through my legs as circulation returned. When I reached his polished shoes, I hesitated only a moment before lowering my head to press my lips against the leather.