Page 151 of Bad for Me

“Fuck, Atti. What did they do to you?” I whisper. He turns his face away, refusing to meet my eyes as his body trembles.

“I don’t… I don’t want to talk about that,” he says, voice barely audible. “Don’t make me talk about it.” He squeezes my hand tighter, the bones protesting under his grip, but I keep my mouth shut.

The squeal of metal hinges draws both our attention, and I watch all the blood drain from Atlas’s cheeks, his eyes filling with fear. His body trembles, and he scrambles to the back corner of the room, curling into a tight ball as if trying to become as small as possible and blend into the shadows. I sit up and scoot as much as I can, trying to block his body with my own. I feel his small frame shaking wildly and square my shoulders.

“Hello, son,” my dad says, a twisted smile pulling at his lips. His blond hair is curly like mine, but where I let mine hang longer, he keeps his cut short on the sides. I have Mom’s build. Both of us are thin and short, but I have Dad’s eyes and hair. “Imagine my surprise when I learned my bitch wife and son weren't as dead as they were supposed to be. I knew I needed to get you back and make your mother suffer. But when I realized who she married, I knew I couldn't do it alone. That's where they come in.” He gestures to a tall man standing beside him, his dark eyes glued to the spot over my shoulder, and I shift, blocking Atlas from his heated gaze. The man turns his eyes on me, sneering.

“I promised to help them take down Vince if they helped me get you back,” Dad says smugly.

“Now that your father has you, our business together is done,” the man, who I assume is Drexel Hawthorn, says. “But as a thank you for our help, I was promised two things.” My blood runs cold as he steps closer, his tongue flicking out to lick over his bottom lip. Atlas whimpers behind me, and I feel warm liquid wet my pants, the smell of urine filling the air. “First, I will get a share of the money he gets after he takes down Vince’s empire once and for all. And I get that pretty little thing behind you. So, move aside and let me have what's mine.”

“No,” I snap, scooting back to pin Atlas between my body and the wall, covering as much of him as possible. “You will never touch him again.”

Drexel cackles, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “And who is going to stop me?”

“You will have to kill me if you want to take him,” I say, even as sweat dots my upper lip and my arm throbs. I know I won’t be able to do much, but with the way Atlas is cowering behind me, I know I have to do whatever it takes to keep this man away.

Drexel scoffs and lunges forward. His hand grips my hair, and he drags me away. I cry out, my legs flailing as I try and kick out at him, but he dodges the moves easily, laughing the entire time.

“You are weak and pathetic. You think you could keep me from what’s mine?” Drexel snarls, lifting me from the ground by my hair and pinning me to the wall. He grabs for one of the metal shackles hanging there, and I feel the cold metal lock around my good wrist. I scream as he pulls my broken arm from the makeshift sling and locks it in the shackles as well. “Maybe I should let my men in here to have a go at you too. Give you a little taste of what’s in store for your pretty little friend,” Drexel growls against my ear, and I shudder, his hot, stinky breath brushing over my skin.

“Now, Drexel,” my father calls from his place, leaning against the door frame, never once moving to intervene. “You know that Ashby is mine. Plus, he has the information you need to take down Vince’s whole operation, so you might not want to hurt him before we get it.”

Drexel turns to scowl at my dad, his grubby hand moving down my bare chest and toward the waistband of my pants. He flicks the button open, his fingers delving beneath the fabric, and I jerk, fighting to get away from his touch.

“I won’t hurt him.” Drexel sneers. “At least not too bad. I just want a taste.” He turns back to me and licks a stripe from my shoulder, up my neck, and across my face. He nips at my lips and I squeeze them together tightly. “That’s right, fight me. I love it when they resist. It makes the reward so much sweeter.”

He moves a hand to my face, pinching my nose closed. My vision spots, and my head swims. I fight to keep my mouth closed, but soon enough, it bursts open, fighting to suck in air. Drexel strikes, his hand moving to my chin, holding my mouth open as he forces his tongue inside. His other hand pushes into my pants, and I gag when his fingers wrap around my soft dick.

“Fuck you taste good.” He groans, and I jerk my body, struggling as hard as I can to get away from his touch, but the shackles pin me in place. My broken arm has gone beyond pain and just feels completely numb. He moves his hips, using them to pin me to the wall as he pulls his cock out, allowing it to brush against my stomach. I hear fabric tear and feel air blow over my skin as my pants and boxers fall in a puddle at my feet. With his hips still pinning mine, he grinds his dick into me, his free hand moving to pull my thigh up.

He kisses me again, forcing his tongue so deep I gag. I scream when I feel his dick brush over my entrance and tug my head with enough force to finally dislodge his hold on my chin. Before he can grab me again, I bite down with as much force as I can. Blood fills my mouth, and Drexel’s shrill cries bounce off the concrete walls around us. He stumbles back, releasing his hold on me as he covers his mouth, eyes wide.

“You bit me!” he shrieks, his words slurred as blood pours from his mouth. I spit at him, a small chunk of his tongue hitting him in the chest. He roars so loud I swear the ground rumbles as he charges me.

A heavy arm encircles his throat before he reaches me. “I told you no,” my dad growls into his ear. “I told you he was mine, and you weren’t to touch him. You got what you deserved.” I lash out, my foot connecting with Drexel’s now soft cock and balls. He howls, hands moving to cup himself, and Dad laughs. “That’s what you get when you don’t listen. Now, get out of here and gather your men. You can come back for your toy when I'm done here.” Dad drops Drexel, and he falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. When he doesn't get up and leave like my dad commanded, Dad kicks him in the ribs with enough force he slides across the ground. “Get. Out,” Dad snarls, stalking toward Drexel.

Drexel struggles to his feet, his body shaking as he turns to my dad, fury burning hotly in his dark eyes. “You will pay for this,” he promises, and I shiver at the threat, forcing myself to meet his gaze when he turns it on me. “I’ll be back for you, pretty. Don’t you worry,” he says to Atlas before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

“Well, now that that’s over with,” Dad says casually, grabbing a wooden chair from the hallway. He drags it into the room and settles himself atop it, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knee.

“What the fuck is your problem!” I shout, rage making me forget to hold my tongue. “Where you just going to stand there and watch him rape me?”

“I told you plenty of times growing up that you needed to learn to fight your own battles. You needed toughening up. I wanted to see if you were still the weak, pathetic child I once knew.” He sighs and shakes his head, a small smile twitching his lips. “I see that my lessons taught you something. You did very well defending yourself. Though you took your sweet time doing it. For a moment, I thought you were going to let him have you.” My body vibrates with anger and disgust. “Oh, please! Don’t look at me like that. You let him get your wrist pinned. You let him get your pants off. You let him touch you. You were about to let him have you. What was I supposed to think?”

“You should have stepped in!” I snarl. “You’re my dad, and you’re supposed to protect me!”

“I can’t fight your battles for you, Ashby. You need to grow up at some point.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Besides, I did stop him once you showed you had a spine and could fight.”

“Silly me, forgetting what a horrible person you are. You were never a good dad. I don't know what I was thinking, expecting you to step in and help me,” I spit at him. “What the fuck do you want? Why couldn’t you just leave me and Mom alone to live our lives?”

“Your mother is dead to me. She ran like a coward and tried to hide you from me. She tried to ruin me,” he snaps, his face twisting in a snarl as his cheeks flush. “Do you know what she did to me? She sent files full of incriminating evidence to my boss. They branded me a dirty cop. They wouldn’t listen when I told them I was being framed. My friends turned against me. I was fired from my job and ostracized from the community. I lost the house, my car, and all my money was spent on lawyers trying to fight this. I had nothing left!”

I can’t help the laugh that slips free, and once it starts, I can't stop it. I laugh so hard tears trail down my cheeks and my sides ache.

“You think that’s funny?” Dad asks in a familiar, cold voice. On the outside, he appears calm and collected, but his eyes burn with fury, showing the evil contained inside him. My laughter cuts off in an instant, and fear floods my veins. Nothing good comes when he uses that voice. “You think it's funny your mother ruined me? Took everything from me?”

“I… I think,” I say, clearing my throat and forcing myself to continue, “I think it's funny you thought you could convince people you were framed. YouAREa dirty cop. YouAREa horrible person. You deserved to lose your job. You deserved to lose everything. You’re still alive, so I don’t think you got everything you deserved!”

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