Page 42 of A Voice In Chains
His wife laughs, her silk robe exposing parts of her left breast as she chokes on the smoke. When she spots me looking, she flashes me her tits and says, “You like them, kid?”
Chester scoffs, glancing at her over his shoulder. “You know he doesn’t. He likes dicks.”
“You don’t know shit,” Jane grumbles before she takes another restless, deep drag. She walks closer, her robe falling open to reveal her pale body. “You like tits, don’t you, boy?”
I look away while they laugh. Chester grabs my chin. “The lady is talkin’ to you.”
I pull free again, earning a hard whack, and I try not to cry.
“Ungrateful shit,” he mutters, standing up. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, son? You’re glaring at me. You must have some mean thoughts, huh?” He nudges my crotch with his bare foot. I try to scoot away as they laugh. “Why don’t you tell us all about your thoughts.”
My head shakes. I’ve scooted as far away as the handcuff lets me. There’s nowhere else to go. I try to turn away, but my uncle frees his dick which has me facing him again. I know what happens if I try to hide—he pisses on me.
“Talk,” he orders, giving his limp cock a tug before he puts it away. “You have something to say?”
I keep my mouth shut, shaking my head.
Dissatisfied, he roars “TALK!” at the top of his lungs, and my heart flies to my throat.
Jane stubs out the cigarette on the table littered with empty pizza boxes and beer cans. “The boy won’t talk.”
“I’ll make him talk.”
She just shakes her head. “Good luck with that.”
Eyes narrowed, Chester lowers onto his haunches. “Well,” he whispers after studying me for a while. “Seems like our little nephew wants to play games.” He leans closer. “Guess what. I like games.”
The sinister tone in his voice has shivers sheathing my skin.
Without taking his eyes off me, he says to Jane, “Fuck him.”
She looks from her husband to me and then laughs. “Are you kidding me? He reeks of dog food. I’m not fucking him.”
Chester’s cold eyes turn hard as stone. He rises to his feet. “What did you say?”
Jane, used to her husband’s erratic moods and explosive temper, rolls her eyes. “I’m not fucking your nephew while he’s covered in the out-of-date dog food. That’s gross.”
“Oh,” he laughs mockingly. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness.” Then he walks over to the sink, roots through the cupboards for a large bowl, and fills it with water. Moments later, he stomps back over and dumps the ice-cold contents over me. “Now he’s clean.”
I shiver, teeth chattering as Jane inspects her chipped nail polish. Chester grabs her by the back of the neck, making her squeak. “You’re gonna ride the little prick’s dick, and if he makes a single noise, I’ll pay his precious little sister a visit in the basement.” He turns those cruel eyes on me. “You refuse to talk. Fine. If you ever make a noise again, even as much as a little fucking squeak, I will hurt them both, got it?”
Then he shoves his wife toward me, and she stumbles on top of me, her dressing gown splaying open to reveal her pale breasts.
I break out in a cold sweat. Chester opens the fridge to retrieve a beer and then barks at Jane, “What are you waiting for?”
“You’re a knobhead,” she grumbles at him as she yanks my soaked joggers down my legs.
“Stop fucking whining, woman.” He swigs his beer. “Make a man of the boy.”
Those dark eyes gleam as they land on me. “If you don’t get hard, I’ll make you listen to your sister scream all night before I hurt your brother.”
I’m lost in the bad memories, fighting an impending panic attack, when someone throws a ball at my face.
Jones, the rugby player, grins mockingly.
“Boohoo. Are you crying?” he taunts, laughing with his friends. But the words have barely left his mouth when Zach pushes through the crowd, eyes burning with hatred.
He grabs his jacket and slams him up against the wall. “Stay the fuck away from him!”
