Page 71 of Loyalties & Longings

“Just before noon,” he answers.

“I guess I really needed to sleep. Where’s Blaze? Did he go home?” My shoulders begin to sag.

“He’s down in the shed.”

My head snaps up to meet his gaze. They only use the shed for one thing.

He nods. “He said he’d wait for you down there.”

“Do you need anything before I go down there?” I ask, excitedly anxious to get down to the shed. I don’t know exactly what I’ll be walking into, but I have a fair idea.

“No,amore. Grazie.” He gives my hand a little squeeze before releasing it.

As I approach the shed, I hear nothing but silence, not at all what I was expecting. I think back to a night so many years agowhen I watched Blaze do what he does best, and I can’t help myself. I sneak around to the side of the shed to the small hole and peek inside.

Massimo looks unconscious. He’s unmoving and tied to a chair by his wrists, ankles, and torso. His head is down, and I can barely make out his face because it is a bloody mess. There’s also a wound on his upper arm.

Behind him is a medical trolley with a few metal implements and a baseball bat on it. I get a small rush of excitement racing through me, knowing what it means for Massimo.

Blaze, on the other hand, stands stoically in front of myassaulter. His arms are hanging by his sides, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, the way they were back when I spied on him as a teenager. This time, though, he has dried blood between his knuckles and across his dirty shirt. Seeing him this way has blood rushing to my core.

Shifting into a crouching position, I accidentally bump the side of the shed. Blaze’s head snaps up, and his eyes shoot to the small hole I’m peeking through. A sly smile grows on his face as he winks in my general direction. He now knows full well that I’m spying on him again.

He walks to the trolley and pulls off a bottle not much bigger than an essential oils bottle and a metal rod. As he moves around the space, I recognize the rod as a cattle prod.

Walking back to Massimo, he opens the bottle’s lid and holds it under his nose. In an instant, Massimo’s head snaps up, his eyes blinking wide, and he shakes off the smell.

Smelling salts. Blaze, you clever, clever man.

“Welcome back,” Blaze says coolly, pocketing the tiny bottle. “You were out for longer than I thought you’d be, but that’s okay. I do, in fact, have all day,” he drawls, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“You know, I had a think about what I was going to do withyou while you were passed out. So many dark and depraved things went through my head. I could cover you in cuts as if my blade was a paintbrush and your skin was the canvas,” he remarks, jabbing the cattle prod into his captive’s ribs.

Massimo’s body stiffens, and he groans behind the gag.

Blaze looks so beautiful when he lets his beast out, and I’ve only seen it when he’s torturing someone or while he’s fucking me.

“While a few cuts wouldn’t do too much damage, having your body covered in them will result in a very slow and agonizing death. The Chinese call itLingchi,or death by a thousand cuts.”

If I weren’t so focused on Blaze, I would have missed his face fall for a fleeting moment. It almost looked as though he wished he could do that. He gives another jab with the cattle prod on the other side of Massimo’s ribcage.

“Then, I thought I should cut off your little prick and feed it to Lucifer.” His voice and face are so serious, and I have no doubt he would, in fact, do it, but I have to hold back a giggle at that one. It sure would be amusing to watch.

Prod.

“Then I thought about all the unsolicited touching.” His voice is almost a growl now.

Prod.

“She never wanted you to talk to her, let alone touch her.”

Prod.

“But you just couldn’t behave.”

Prod.

“You thought you could just take it against her will. And she’s lucky I fucking caught you before you did because I would have shot you dead on the spot.”

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