Page 51 of Stolen Faith

Tweedledum gripped his upper arm firmly, propelling Brennon across the room to the closed door he assumed led to the bathroom.

That fact was confirmed when Dum opened the door and shoved him inside. The same warning about not fighting was issued as the ropes around his wrists were untied.

“Make it quick,” the redneck said, shoving him toward a filthy toilet that resembled the ones they used on the set of prison films.

Brennon quickly relieved himself, rubbing the welts on his wrists, grateful for the reprieve. He tried to draw out his freedom as long as he could, but it didn’t help that he was dehydrated. His bladder was as good as empty.

He expected to be led back to the main room, so he was surprised when Tweedledee appeared in the doorway, leading Rowan.

They’d replaced the chains wrapped around his lower legs with the simpler ankle cuffs and chain he’d had on back at the mansion. However, his upper body was still immobilized by the thick, heavy chains, his arms trapped behind his back, useless to him.

“Take out his dick,” Tweedledee said to Brennon as Rowan was shoved in front of the toilet. “We’re not touching his filthy cock. You can. You perverts probably touch each other all the time, don’t ya? You ever put that in your mouth and suck on it?”

Tweedledee and Tweedledum exchanged disgusted looks.

“Fucking homos,” Dum muttered.

“Queer boys,” Dee agreed.

Brennon was a pretty mild-mannered guy, and it took a lot to piss him off, but his panic was giving way to anger. Stupid motherfuckers like these two pricks never failed to get under his skin.

“Brennon,” Rowan said quietly, stopping the scathing words Brennon longed to say.

The utter calmness on Rowan’s face helped Brennon find his.

Classic action hero shit.

Never let them get to you.

Never show emotion.

Give in to your emotions and you’re dead.

Brennon unfastened Rowan’s pants and reached inside his boxers, pulling his dick out. It twitched slightly in his hand, and for the briefest of moments, he recalled Izabel’s assertion that night in her condo that she wasn’t going to be a buffer between them; then he remembered Rowan’s kiss.

God. It had knocked his socks off.

He held Rowan steady; aware this should feel awkward as hell. Equally aware that it wasn’t at all. He felt closer to this man than he did with some buddies he’d known since childhood. There was a connection, a bond, between the two of them he couldn’t begin to explain.

Perhaps it was the fact they’d been bound together by the Grand Master, their lives pledged to each other. Or maybe it was because of their brief time here, captives together, which put him in a Band of Brothers state of mind. Most likely it was both of those things combined with a growing respect and an undeniable attraction.

Trinity Masters’ members weren’t allowed to choose, but as he stood here, next to this man, he knew all the way to the depths of his soul that he would have picked Rowan and Izabel if the choice had been his.

Rowan captured his gaze, and he realized he wasn’t alone in his feelings when his husband gave him a slight nod.

When Rowan was finished, Brennon refastened his pants. Their guards smirked at them righteously, clearly believing they’d somehow humiliated the two of them.

Rowan, the sexy bastard, wiped those shit-eating grins right off their faces when he said, “Thanks,” and gave Brennon a quick kiss on the lips.

Tweedledum was cut from the same cloth as Barry, the type of guy who didn’t like being made a fool of. He grabbed Rowan’s upper arm, half pulling, half shoving him toward the door, his action rough enough that Rowan hit the doorjamb. “Fucking sick bastards. You faggots are gonna burn in hell.”

Rowan was pulled from the bathroom first.

“Turn around,” Tweedledee demanded. Brennon winced when the man tied the ropes back around his wrists, making a big show of tightening the knot. Brennon wasn’t sure if he’d made any progress on loosening the ropes to begin with, but if he had, he was back at step one in terms of freeing himself.

He was led back to the room and shoved down on the floor.

“Put your feet out.”

---