Page 152 of Bad for Me

Instead of responding, Dad just smirks at me. My heart stutters in my chest, my blood freezing in my veins.

“You know,” he says calmly, picking a nonexistent piece of fuzz from his dress pants. “I brought you here so you could help me take down your mother and her new husband. I want them to suffer the way I have. I’ve been watching you for months, and I know you can access all of his money. I know you work closely with each of his businesses, and you would be the weakest link, the easiest to break. I just wanted you to help me get his money. I wouldn’t have hurt you unless you forced my hand. But now,” he stops, staring deep into my eyes, and I start to shake, “I think I will give you to Drexel and his men when I’m through with you. Do you know what they do with boys like you? What they did to your friend?” he asks. Atlas whimpers softly, and my stomach clenches so hard I would puke if I had anything left inside me. “They sell you. Over and over, they sell you to the highest bidder and let them do whatever they want to with you. They will pump you full of drugs and get you so addicted you’ll do anything for your next hit. You would be sold and used daily, your body no longer your own.”

Movement behind Dad catches my eye, and I look up just in time to see Atlas run at Dad from behind. His eyes are wild as he slams into Dad's back, one arm going around Dad’s neck as he scratches at Dad's face with the other. Dad shouts and stands from his chair, stumbling forward with Atlas clinging to his back like a little money. Atlas’s scream is a broken, wild sound.

“No one will touch me like that again,” Atlas screams as he attacks. “Never again! Never again! Never again!”

Blood streams down Dad’s face as Atlas claws at his eyes, and Dad stumbles forward again. I kick out, my foot connecting with his nose. The bone crunches beneath my shoe and blood gushes from both nostrils. Unfortunately, the kick dislodges Atlas, who falls to the ground, but instead of running, he picks up the wooden chair and slams it into Dad's back, pushing him close enough that I can get my legs wrapped around his neck. I squeeze tightly, and Dad wheezes, clawing at my legs as he struggles to get free.

A shadow falls over Dad, and I look to Atlas. His face is dull, eyes dead as he stares into Dad’s eyes. A jagged, broken piece of the wooden chair is in his hand, and he kneels between Dad's spread legs.

“I won't let you,” Atlas rasps, voice broken. “I won't let you hurt him the way they hurt me.”

He brings his arm down, the wood tearing through skin and muscle. Dad's scream gurgles as I continue to squeeze his neck, and Atlas pulls the wood free. Something feral appears in his eyes, and he brings the wood down again and again, stabbing. A scream rips from Atlas as he tears into my dad. After about five stabs, the wood breaks off in Dad’s flesh, and Atlas lets out an angry growl. He reaches behind him, picks up another piece of the chair, and continues stabbing. Each time the wood breaks, he grabs a new one until, after nearly thirty stabs and four chair pieces, his arm falls to his side, and he settles back on his heels, taking in his work. Wooden shards protrude from Dad’s legs and belly, his eyes clouded and staring unseeing at the ceiling.

“I did it,” he whispers and looks up at me, blood spray coating his face, chest and hands. He still has a piece of bloodied wood held in a white-knuckle grip. “I did it.”

“You did, Atti. You did so fucking good. You saved me.” Some of the feral energy flows out of him, his eyes dimming as he looks down at his bloody hands and the stake held there.

“I did it,” he whispers again.

“You did, Atti. You did it. But we need to get out of here now before any of the others come looking into all that noise,” I tell him, and he looks back up at me, blinking slowly.

I unwrap my legs from Dad’s neck and push his body to the side with my foot. As the adrenaline fades, agony floods my veins. My arm aches so badly that it's nearly numb, my brain pulses with every heartbeat, and my skin is drenched in sweat. “Check his pockets for the keys. Get yourself unlocked, then you can do mine.” My voice grows slurred.

He nods numbly, his lips moving as he repeats the same words over and over. “I did it.”

He releases a soft, satisfied sound when he finds the keys, his wet fingers slipping as he tries to undo his chains. Finally, the metal falls to the ground with a loud clatter, and Atlas struggles to his feet, legs shaky. He has to stretch onto his tiptoes to reach my shackles, and I can only imagine what it must have been like for him to be secured here, barely able to reach the ground and support his weight.

My arm falls to my side, and I scream through my teeth. Atlas, without a word, grabs the blood-soaked fabric from the ground and recreates a sling for my arm, pinning it tightly to my chest once more. He pulls my free arm around his shoulders and puts his arm around my middle, both of us leaning on the other for support.

“Thank you, Atti,” I rasp, and he nods. “Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I peek out the door and check the hallway to make sure it's clear before we step out. We keep close to the wall, moving slowly and silently when, suddenly, the entire building shakes. Crashing and the sound of metal bending fill the air around us. There is an eerie silence for only a moment before gunfire starts, and screaming joins the noise.

“We need to hurry! Maybe we can slip out while they are distracted!” I tell Atlas, tugging him forward, hoping the sounds are thanks to my perfect boyfriend coming to rescue me.

Chaos greets us when we reach the end of the hallway and look down into the open floor of the warehouse. There is a massive hole in the side of the building, with a bullet-ridden SUV idling just inside. Bodies litter the ground, and I scan each one for a familiar face, releasing a heavy sigh when none are.

Glee-filled shouts and laughter sound from behind the SUV, and I nearly swoon when Storm steps out, a gun in each hand and a smile on his face as he releases a spray of bullets. The men start to scream, scurrying around wildly like rats.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Storm sings, and I smile. The men below start to panic, all rushing for the exit at once, their bodies clogging up as they fight to get out first. “There you are!” Storm shouts, and I watch him tuck away one of his guns and pull a grenade, a fucking grenade, from his back pocket and launch it toward the men. Storm doesn’t duck or turn away, eyes glued to the men as the bomb goes off. Body parts go flying through the air, blood and guts turning to mist, and Storm giggles manically.

“Sir, I think that was the last of them. Should we split up and search the building for Ashby and his friend?” one of Storm's men asks.

Storm's eyes turn to mine in an instant, as if he knew I was there the whole time. “No need. They are already here.” He points to the two of us, and the stairs rattle as men run up them towards us. They reach for both of us, but Storm growls loudly. “Do not pick him up!” he snaps, shoving the man out of the way and draping a blanket over my shoulders. “Hi, Sunshine. Did you miss me?” he asks, lifting me into his arms and snuggling me close. I bury my nose against his chest, eyes rolling as his familiar scent fills my nose.

“Fuck yes. Thank you for coming for us.”

Storm runs his fingers over my body, barely brushing my skin. “I thought I told you not to get out of the car,” he asks, turning and carrying me back down the stairs. I look over his shoulder, trying to find Atlas and smile when I see him wrapped in a thick blanket, cradled in Elio’s arms. The big man scowls at anyone who looks at them for too long.

“I’m sorry,” I say and shiver when Storm smiles down at me.

“Oh, you will be. But don’t worry, you won’t get your punishment until you’re all healed up.”

I let out a small whine, my cock twitching but staying soft. As the adrenaline starts to drain from my system, the pain is slowly returning, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

“It hurts,” I whimper, biting down on Storm's neck.

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