Page 37 of Crave Me

Jesus Christ.

There Caleb was spread wide on the golden sheets, bound by ropes with some sort of incapacitating device attached to his head. He was whimpering as a thick dildo attached to a fucking machine powered brutally hard and fast in and out of his ass that looked red-raw. His naked body was covered all over in cum and piss and it looked like he was trying to spit some out of his mouth, something barely possible with his head forced still by that contraption.

Those fuckers’ words slammed into me.

They’d… they’d jerked off and pissed all over him. Fucking shit.

As if that wasn’t enough, there were three massive screens right within his eye line depicting a whole lot of fucked-up abuse being inflicted upon people.

I closed the door quietly, then staggered to him.

“Caleb,” I whisper-yelled in my urgency.

“Bastian?” he rasped, most definitely out of it.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s all gonna be okay.” I turned off the machine and pulled the dildo free, a pained grunt escaping him, making me wince. I turned off the monitors, then rushed to him as fast as possible in my state and released the latch on the thing strapped to his head, easing it free.

He blinked hard, trying to process what was happening.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “I’m here. I’m here with you.” I worked on the ropes, the knots being a real bitch of a thing. But using my shivs helped me out and I was able to free his wrists and ankles in spite of it.

I went to help him sit up, but I couldn’t lift his weight, my body shaking at the effort.

“I’ve got it,” he told me. He scrubbed a hand over his face and took a minute. His eyes fell on me. “Shit, B. You need medical attention ASAP.”

“Right back at you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine? After what I just walked in on—”

“I handled it, I’m good.”

Before I could even begin to get into how that couldn’t possibly be the case, he pushed off the bed and rushed to one of the dressers in the far corner. Rummaging for a few moments, he found a pair of black sweatpants and a matching t-shirt and pulled them on.

“This way,” he told me a moment later as he wrenched a blackout curtain aside to reveal a double hung window. He shoved it open, then gestured for me to follow.

“You want to go out the window?”

“We can’t risk going through the house. You’re weakened.” He gestured at my shivs. “We’ve got limited weapons. It’s nighttime, so Elijah is asleep, along with one half of his guys. But that still leaves us with ten awake and walking about monitoring the property. It also won’t be long before a couple of them come in here to mess with me again. Path of least resistance.”

I came closer and he gestured to an addition beneath, part of the roof under the window.

“We duck and roll, using the sloped roof for momentum,” I told him.

He nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to haul ass out a window. Last time I recall it being a fifty-foot drop, right?”

“Yeah. Good thing all that training Cas insisted on when we were starting up The Jackals included learning how to fall properly.”

He smiled at my mention of Cas, then looked me over, noting the bruising on my hands. “Good thing he’s also had you undergo some kidnapping victim training. Dislocated your thumbs, huh?”

“That was just the start.”

“I can see from those sharpened metal bars you’re carrying around with you.”

I handed one to him. “Let’s do this.”

“You go first, I’ll follow.”

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