Page 31 of Redemption (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #4)

His dipshit of a brother decided to trespass and rain on our parade a few days later, which definitely fucked up our morning. At the end of the day, however, he was nothing but a bullet point in the long list of casualties we racked up.

Regardless, even though we collectively managed to rid the world of a couple dozen fuckwits, there unfortunately will always be more. Especially with the creepy-ass Phoenix Rising fuckers out and about.

Now there’s an idea....

Shit... Could they be the ones to blame for taking me? Us?

If it was, they must have been out looking for us, or people like us, to enter Beaufort.

Shit, maybe they’re smarter than we thought and set up Tryon Palace to be a fucking Trojan Horse.

If so, it certainly worked! We were drawn to the place like moths to a flame.

And then, after not encountering any further threats, relaxed enough for them to come right on in and snatch us. I don’t know.

All I do know is the cement wall at my back is chafing my ass something fierce, and there’s no fucking way I can get out of here to confirm any of my theories or find the others. Not while I’m in this position.

Coming to terms with the fact that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, I take a moment to look around the room. Thankfully, my one eye has adjusted to the now full-blown darkness—after the sun has decided to up and quit on me too—but I end up finding more than what I’ve certainly bargained for.

My eyebrows meet my hairline as the vision in my one eye comes into focus, gazing at not only the restraints I’ve been strapped into but also the dozens of other less than humble offerings surrounding me.

Well, would you look at that? I’ve found another sex dungeon... Lucky me.

Surprisingly, it’s a lot like the one I found back near the lake.

Same contraptions for the most part, only this one seems to cater to pain more than anything else.

Whips and floggers hang from the walls opposite me, while various crosses flank my sides.

Chains ominously hang from the ceiling here and there, matching my own.

A memory shot straight from the ass crack of my past barrels into me as I use my one good eye to scan the entirety of the room for the thing that has the power to send me into full-blown panic mode.

Nothing there...

Nor over there...

Holy shit... Is that...? No... That’s... That’s a vacuum cleaner. Had me worried for a second.

As I finish my preliminary search for the item and come up empty, I breathe a sigh of relief. Not a single gigantic tentacle in sight.

Thank you, baby Jesus.

And, to be honest, other than the benches and other various consent-ridden torture devices, the room is pretty empty. No beds or benches, no toilets, not even a bucket to shit in. It also seems like I’m the only unfortunate soul in this dungeon.

I plan to write up a well-written note for customer service since I did not consent to this. Where’s a trustworthy dungeon master when you need one? Literally left me hanging here with no answers whatsoever.

Bad, dungeon master. Bad.

I huff a sigh at the intrusive silence, about to call out “RED” to end the so-called scene I’ve unintentionally ended up in, but a sadistic grin curves my lips as a genius thought comes to mind.

Time to get this show on the road.

∞∞∞

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIII-EEE-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS.... ANNOOOOOOY YOU-OOOOOOOOO-OOOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

God, I love Whitney.

“Will you. SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!”

I smile, knowing I've gotten under the guard’s skin, and it’s only moments before he comes in here and gives me something to do.

I started singing forty-three songs ago, everything from Shania Twain to Limp Bizkit, Eminem to Enya, even threw in some “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips, the lyrics held lovingly in my brain for just such an occasion.

But now? After being ignored for hours on end? I’m pulling out the big guns.

It’s time for some of Canada’s finest.

"YOOOOOOOOU’RE HEEEERE!!!!! BUT THERE’S NAAAAAAAAAAHT A THING TO FEAR!!!! CAUSE I KNOOOOOOW I’M JUST GONNA... KEEP SIIIIIIIIIINGIIIING.” My voice scratches and squeaks on the last note, but I push on, letting my inner Celine Dion shine and save me from this fortress of solitude.

“THAT’S IT!

Oooooh mama. Here we go!

I smirk with triumph when the sound of jingling keys reaches my ears as the guard shoves the metal into the lock.

He twists them and then throws the door wide open, stomping his fat ass over in my direction with nothing but anger in his eyes and a bright as fuck flashlight in his hand aimed right at me.

I wince at the sudden change, turning my head away from the blinding intrusion.

In the next second, his fist connects to my face.

A sickening crunch reverberates about the room, and my good eye blurs, but it’s not enough to send me on a deep-sea voyage to live out my wet dreams with Leonardo fucking DiCaprio.

“Fuck, man.” I spit out a glob of blood, knowing he just split my lip. “Not a Titanic fan?”

“What did I tell you?!” he yells back, his face bulging with aggravation while turning a purplish shade of red.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t that you were going to draw me like one of your French girls, although, in my current state, I think I could pull it off.” I twist, jutting my ass out to the side while I open my mouth and close my eyes seductively.

Well, the one eye. The other is already there, baby! Gold stars for you, buddy.

He throws his fist at me again, hitting my bad eye and almost making me see stars.

“Ah! Goddammit! That’s my good side, Fuck-knuckles!” I spit at him, my bloody saliva landing on his chin. “How’s my girl gonna wanna get with me if you keep making me look like your ugly ass!”

He shakes out his hand, checking the damage, but when he looks back up at me, he smiles, the emotion all wrong from where we were a second ago. “Oh, we know all about your girl.”

I can practically feel the blood leeching from my skin at his knowledge of Aly. Son of a bitch better not have touched her; better be fucking bluffing, or I swear to God he will wear his own ass as a hat before I’m done with him.

The asshole licks his lips hungrily at the thought of her, the slight movement making me want to vomit, but thankfully my empty stomach keeps me from doing so.

“And your boys, come to think of it. Oh yeah, we got them too. They’re just in.

.. other areas. Needed in other areas. Like your sweet girl.

” If his eyes could get any darker, they’d be pitch black.

“Oh, she’s a looker, that one. Gonna be real popular around here after processing.

I guess, if you’re good, you might even see her, too.

But if you keep acting like a prick, I’ll make sure you never see her again.

Don’t worry your little heart, though. We’ll make sure to take good care of her.

” He puts up three fingers on one hand, while his other hand grabs at his crotch. “Scout’s honor.”

You motherfucker.

Scratch that. His dick will be the first thing to go for threatening my woman. Then his hands. Both of them. Cut ‘em off right at the wrists and then tie the palms together before I shove them, fingers first, straight up his ass.

Secret Ninja Finger Jutsu: One Thousand Years of Pain and Suffering!

It’s one thing to have gotten myself captured like a fucking idiot, but to have confirmed they’ve taken Cole, Jax, and Aly and are already threatening this?

I’ve got to get out of here. I need to help them.

Help her. If they left me in a fucking dungeon cell, buck-ass fucking naked, I can only imagine what they’re doing to Aly.

What they’ve already possibly done to her.

Fuck.

FUCK!

But what the hell can I even do? I can’t even scratch the itch on my balls, let alone save them. In the end, I know I only have one option. It’s not something I really want to do, but it’s the only smart plan I’ve got, especially when I’m literally chained to a wall.

I’ve gotta play by their rules so they let me out of these fucking chains, and then... then I'll make my move. I’ve got to be patient. Got to be smart about this. But it’s only a matter of time. With their days officially numbered, they’ll all get what’s coming to them.