Page 60 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

While Bennet seems annoyed by the situation, Benjamin’s worry fades, and a smile settles on his face. He giggles like a child and quickly reaches for Mr. St. James’s hand, playfully shouting, “Give it back!”

As they continue their ridiculous game, Tatum continues clenching and unclenching his entrance around me, not stopping when I whisper, “Naughty boy,” into his ear.

His eyes flash with mischief. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

CHAPTER 12

TATUM

I’m going to kill Fiona fucking Frost. I hadn’t planned on committing first degree murder today, but here we are.

Manhole, the only gay bar within a forty-mile radius would not be my first choice for a bachelor party. It wouldn’t be my second, third, or ninety-ninth choice either. Considering its owner and proprietor is none other than my archnemesis, Benito Blankenship—I’d much rather set it ablaze than step a single foot inside. Unfortunately, the moment my Russian captor flashed me his fuck-me eyes, all logic must have left me, because I allowed him to carry me inside on his hip.

When we walked in, we were met with a ridiculous standing ovation from our friends and family. Well, from my friends and family at least. Aside from Brody and Fiona, there’s not a single person here on Abi’s behalf. It’s a realization that hit me like a ton of bricks. He truly doesn’t have anyone in his corner. His mother and father are dead. Brody’s parents took him in and raised them as their own, but they were killed in a car accident over a decade ago. I know from the stories he’s told, Abi’s had quite a few friends at the last agency he worked with, but none of them speak to him anymore after he abandoned ship.

Though not directly, I’ve cost him his semblance of normalcy. Had I been a better friend to Scotty, I could have talked him out of playing his stupid game of Murder Daddy with Brody. I could have somehow protected Scotty from Brody, and then Abi would still have his old life. The pre-Tatum portion of his past.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t protect Scotty, and now, I can’t protect Abi. My indecisiveness is bringing him pain. I’m the reason for every bit of hurt in him, but he still holds me like I’m the most precious possession in the world.

When we come to a stop, we’re at a table. Abi doesn’t remove me from his hip, thankfully. He just shifts me until I’m being cradled like a newborn. Once he takes a seat at the table, he places me on his lap, offering me a quick kiss on the side of my face.

“Tatum!” Scotty shouts, and when I’m finally able to tear my eyes away from Abi, I realize that my biffle is already drunk as a skunk. His eyes are bloodshot, and his makeup is smeared to Hell and back. He’s wearing a pair of banana-yellow hot pants and a silver shirt that says,Daddy’s Boy. Scotty’s resting on Brody’s lap, rocking back and forth with a cheeky grin.

“Bad boy,” Brody says, gripping him by the nape. “You think you can just fuck me through my jeans and get away with it, you cheap fucking slut?”

Scotty whimpers as he stares seductively at Brody over his shoulder. “Please, Mr. Daddy. I wasn’t trying to upset you. Now you probably want to take me backstage and beat my balls until they’re black and blue, don’t you?” Scotty places his hand on top of Brody’s and drags it down his chest until they’re both fondling his lackluster bulge. “Please don’t hurt me, sir. I’ll be a good boy for you.”

“I ought to put a bullet through your skull. You think I want to touch your pathetic little cock? Maybe these fucking freaks want to touch it, but I don’t. I’m not like you. I’m not a fucking fa—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Listen, baby. I knowyou get off on this homophobic shit, but I’m really not comfortable calling you the f-slur. Can’t we just stick with ‘queer’? It feels a lot less problematic.”

Scotty’s bloodshot eyes widen, and he jerks his head in Brody’s direction. The frightened expression on his face is gone, making room for a scowl. “Brody?”

Brody closes his eyes and sighs. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

“Damn right, ‘fuck.’ You’re damn right. I gave you instructions. They were very clear, were they not? Did you even read the email I sent you?”

Brody rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Freakshow. I got the email.”

“Then why are you deviating from the script? Christ, babe, we’re getting married in two days, and you wait until now to pull something like this? Well, I’ll tell you something, I’m not having it. I don’t ask you for much, do I?”

“Of course not—” he begins, but Scotty’s look stops any other words from forming in his mouth.

“Correct. So, why are you denying me this? If I want you to call me a faggot to get my blood pumping, why won’t you? Don’t you love me?” Scotty’s mouth falls open. I have no idea what’s going on inside my biffle’s head, but I’ve learned it’s best to just let him have his moment. Nothing good can be gained from calling him out on his ridiculous behavior. “You don’t, do you? You’ve fallen out of love with me.”

Brody grabs a beer bottle off the table and smashes it against the side. While the amber liquid drips to the floor, he presses the sharp edge of the bottle against Scotty’s throat.

“If you ever insinuate I don’t love you again, I’ll slit your goddamn throat. You fucking hear me, boy?”

“More,” Scotty begs. “More, Brody.”

Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are they always so goddamn weird? “Abi,” I groan, thankful when he squeezes my hip.

“Yes, little one?”

“I need a drink, and I need a break from”—I flick my hand in Brody and Scotty’s direction—“whatever the fuckthisis.”

Abi chuckles softly into my ear before standing up. He gives me a moment to resituate, so my legs are wrapped around his back. As he turns to take us toward the bar, there’s a loud bang behind us. Abi turns around slowly, and I watch as one eyebrow rises in question. I look down at the table and sigh. Brody’s got Scotty pinned against it, his tongue fucking in and out of his fiancé’s mouth. The broken bottle has been forgotten, and I watch as it rolls off the table and smashes against the floor. The sound rips Brody and Scotty out of their haze and Scotty tries to sit upright, but Brody’s still got him pinned. Resigned, Scotty smiles and looks up at me.

“The stripper’s going to be here soon, so don’t go too far. I told Fee to hire a hot guy to masturbate on stage while we watch. He’s gonna come for us, Tatum. He’s gonna come so good!”

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