Page 43 of Capitol Matters

Holding the handcuff chain, I used my magic to open the Bronco’s back glass and lower the tailgate. Stopping before it, I lifted Lover Boy’s eye mask on one side, giving him a glimpse of the rear end of the SUV.

“Get in,” I told him.

He tittered a nervous laugh, and I braced for his refusal. I would shove him headlong into the vehicle if that’s what it took.

“Oh, I get it,” he said. “We’ll circle the block a couple times and then come back. Very nice.”

“That’s enough talking.” I pulled out the ball gag and crammed it into his willing mouth. If his erection hadflagged during our journey from Liv’s bedroom, it was back at full strength now. Mine, too, as I found myself wishingIwas the one bound up and gagged.

Lover Boy clambered into the truck bed and seated himself against the carpeted wheel well. His one eye peering from under the mask made him look like a kinky pirate. Smirking, I twitched my finger toward it, resituating the blindfold to black his vision.

“Sit tight, sweet cheeks,” I told him, then closed the glass and gate.

Lover Boy said he needed this. I needed it, too. After fighting with Grimm and Holland and playing referee between Avery and basically everyone else, I was due for something to go right for a change.

As I climbed into the driver’s seat, I breathed a sigh of relief.

This was shaping up to be the easiest job of my life.

Watching me unload Lover Boy gagged, blind, and wearing nothing but shiny boxer shorts started Donovan laughing. He wandered up as I helped the bound man climb down from the tailgate then steadied him on the ground.

Lover Boy remained in place, nudging the eye mask with his shoulder to try to glimpse his surroundings. Drool dribbled past the red ball wedged in his mouth like a spitted pig’s apple.

“Cakewalk,” I announced to Donovan and dustedmy hands together. “This one came willingly.”

I’d removed my mask on the drive over and hung it from the Bronco’s rearview mirror as a surprise for my brother to wonder about later.

Donovan’s face twisted as he asked, “So willingly that you had to handcuff and gag him?”

I flashed a grin. “Careful, Donnie. Your vanilla is showing.”

Lover Boy let out a series of grunts, nothing intelligible, but the severity of his tone implied he might have caught on to my deception at last.

Taking hold of his elbow, I gestured for Donovan to grab the other side. A storage unit door yawned open, as dark inside as it was out. Lover Boy’s protest grew louder as we marched him into the tiny garage.

So far, I’d avoided setting foot in our makeshift jail cells. They were too small, cramped, and familiar. Even before my stint in solitary confinement, I was no fan of enclosed spaces.

This room was no bigger than a walk-in closet and even more bare. A folding chair sat in one corner, and a spring mattress leaned against the wall. A plastic-wrapped pack of water bottles appeared to be the only provisions.

“Well, this is haunting,” I muttered, tugging on Lover Boy’s arm.

His grunts turned into garbled wails as he tried to brace on bare feet. The sounds bounced off the metal walls and ceiling like we were inside a tin can.

Donovan glanced at me and grimaced as though physically pained. His discomfort spurred me to pick upthe pace, then take over by hauling the bound man to the folding chair and shoving him into it.

Donovan’s frown deepened. “He’s gonna hate it here.”

Lover Boy howled around the gag and made a staggered attempt to stand.

A gut punch of mental energy drove our captive back down, gasping anew. I looped a rope of thought around his waist, anchoring him to the chair and the chair to the floor.

“Let’s go,” I said.

I couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

“Should we take that stuff off of him?” Donovan gestured to Lover Boy’s restraints.

“Later.” A shove to my brother’s shoulder spun him toward the exit. “Give him some time to cool off first.”

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