Page 25 of Xtasy

Blaze grinned, slid Atlas’ cell phone across the table, and said, “Yes, I do need some help. Be a good baby bird and unlock your phone for me. I’d like Hawk to join our dinner party, as well.”

“It will never happen, Blaze. I love Hawk, and I would rather die than let your filthy hands touch him.”

“You little sentimental fool. Love is ridiculous. What we do,the games we play in our world, have nothing to do with love and everything to do with pain and humiliation. That’s just one more reason why you aren’t good enough for Hawk—you’d break way too easily.” Blaze stood up and casually made his way around the table until he was standing behind Atlas.

This was it, Atlas thought to himself—the do or die moment of his life…or the do and die anyway moment. His life of predictability no longer existed. Both he and Megan had agreed he needed to take more chances. This was a chance, nothing more and nothing less—Atlas tried to convince himself as Blaze moved closer and closer.

“Do you know, little birdie, what Ambrose is? You were at his club opening that night, your magnificent nudes displayed so provocatively, but did you stick around to meet therealAmbrose? The one that enjoys hurting people?”

Atlas took a deep breath. “The Ambrose I know doesn’t enjoy hurting people unless it is consensual.”

“That’s cute. You’ve been studying the lifestyle. Ambrose is a sadist—one who derives his sexual pleasure from the pain of others.” Blaze’s hands suddenly rested on Atlas’ shoulders. “I’m worse than that. To be perfectly honest, I’m not certain there’s a word that describes my wants and desires.” He leaned in and whispered against Atlas’ ear, “Perhaps serial killer?”

Atlas felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest. “Serial killer. Sicko. Pathetic.” He paused and then added, “Not nearly good enough for Hawk, or Ambrose, for that matter.”

It happened faster than Atlas could have ever imagined. Blaze’s hands were on his shoulders one second and in the next, the man had punched him in the face hard enough that his ears were ringing, and his vision blurred. His right jaw. His left jaw. Blaze scooted him further away from the dining table and continued to punch him—his face, his chest, his stomach…every spot Blaze could hit while he was in a seated position. The man kept punching, not pausing for a second—punched so hard that Atlas feared he would lose consciousness before Blaze could stop long enough to ask him to unlock his cell again. Blood ran down his face, nearly blinding him if he tried to open his eyes. Ribs were cracked or broken, there was no doubt about that. The entire time Blaze punched, Atlas pictured Hawk in his mind, it kept him strong and determined.

Finally, Blaze stopped. The man changed in an instant. He went from something feral back to his fake calm self in the blink of an eye. Blaze grabbed a linen napkin and said, “Here, little birdie, let me wipe the blood off your face. You look a mess. Have you ever been hit before? Tell me, how does it feel? Does it make you feel more vulnerable…more desperate?” Blaze asked the questions as he gently cleared the blood from Atlas’ face. He knelt in front of Atlas, “Does it make you more agreeable to my demands?”

“Y-y-yes,” Atlas whispered weakly, wincing as the pain of moving his mouth swept through him. His stomach rolled with nausea. One eye was already swollen so badly, he couldn’t open it.

Blaze plopped the cell phone on the edge of the table, directly in front of Atlas. “Unlock it and I’ll make all your pain go away.”

Atlas dropped his head forward in defeat. “You’ll…you’ll make it quick?”

“Of course, I will, little birdie.”

Atlas frowned…well, tried to frown. He wasn’t certain what his face looked like. “Why do you call me that?”

“Because Hawk is my bird of prey. You’re just a tiny little birdie…maybe a cute hummingbird—flittering around, catching the attention ofmybird of prey.”

Oddly enough, Atlas thought, it made some sense, at least.

“I need one hand to unlock it,” Atlas told Blaze, head hanging.

Blaze laughed. “Oh, little birdie, I’d cut both zip ties if you asked me to.” He reached for a large knife on the dining table. “There’s absolutely nothing scary about you,” Blaze said as the knife slit through the zip tie strapped around Atlas’ right wrist.

Atlas didn’t wait for Blaze to move to the second wrist. The second one hand was free, he jumped from the chair, picking it up in the same movement, and swung it around to crash into Blaze’s face. The chair broke into pieces, releasing his other wrist. Blaze, however, didn’t break. Hell, it was if the wood connecting to his face and upper body hadn’t even phased him, physically or mentally.

Actually, Blaze grinned and said, “What now, little hummingbird?”

****

“If Blaze has hurt Atlas, I’m going to kill you myself, Ambrose!” Hawk hissed as the two of them and Wallace moved stealthily across the darkened lawn, toward the front door. Wallace’s team had scattered and were surrounding the house. “How in the fuck could you have forgotten Maxwell had two fucking houses? We’ve lost over an hour!”

Ambrose, already terrified that they were too late to save Atlas, kept his voice as calm as possible in an attempt to not throw fuel onto Hawk’s burning flame of fear. “Stop threatening me, Hawk. I’m never late for anything. Atlas will be fine, and we’ll take care of the Blaze situation for the last time. Remain calm and focused on what we’re trying to accomplish here. Kick my ass later.”

“Would you two please shut the fuck up?” Wallace growled quietly. “Hawk, I knowyouknow better than to be running your big mouth and not having your undivided attention on the job. Keep quiet. When we get to the door, I’m busting it down and going in after Atlas. The two of you stay behind me at all times. The rest of the team will be making entrance from other areas,” Wallace whispered as they finally reached the front door. It was a heavy door, clearly meant to keep people out.

Wallace grimaced.Of course, it was. He reached for his gun and aimed for the locking mechanism.

“Now, Wallace,” Hawk ordered.

Before Wallace could pull the trigger, the door burst open, smacking Wallace in the face and launching him through the air and to the ground.

A figure, too small to be Blaze, sped past them, racing toward the dock on the lake. Hawk felt relief consume him—he recognized that absolutely perfect figure to be the man he loved. Alive. Safe, now that he was here. He took two steps forward so that the next person to come through that open door would have to come through him. Blaze did—slammed right into him. Hawk was prepared for the impact. Blaze wasn’t. Off balance, he staggered backward.

He never really had a chance after that. Hawk knocked him to the ground, jumped on him, and began the beating. He punched him for every minute he’d spent terrified that he wouldn’t get to Atlas on time…for every time his heart had missed a beat…for whatever the man had done to make Atlas run for his life. Hawk only stopped when Ambrose stepped in and struggled to pull him away from Blaze’s broken body. “That’s enough,” Hawk. “Leave some for the men he’ll be rooming with on his cell block in jail.”

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