Indulgence (374 page)

“Kirk,” I mouthed my larynx too sore to make a sound. He
wrapped his shirt around me and lifted me into his arms. On the other side of
the room, Miles held Gabe against the wall.

“We’ll get them upstairs and let Ross figure out what to do
with them,” Miles said.

“She’s a slave,” Gabe said, trying to shake Miles’ hand off
his shoulder. “And she has a sweet ass. Guess you just couldn’t give her
everything she needed.”

My eyes fell on the black form on the bed next to me. I
grabbed it—the metal still warm from Kirk’s hand—and raised it, pointing the
gun to Gabe’s head and pulling the trigger before I realized what I was doing.

“Silver,” I heard two voices yell as Gabe’s body collapsed
to the floor.

Kirk grabbed the gun out of my hand.

I heard a commotion outside, but the room started going
dusky and I dropped my head to Kirk’s shoulder.

I bobbed there semi-conscious as Kirk and Miles exchanged frantic
words. Then, Miles patted my cheek, each time becoming rougher until I shook my
head and focused on him.

“Kirk fired the gun. Do you understand?”

I stared back and started to space out again, but Miles
shook my chin.

I stared into his brown eyes, undecided if I wanted to stay
with him and Kirk or let unconsciousness wash over me. “Alan,” I said.

Miles frowned at me, and Kirk squeezed me tighter against
his chest. I tried again. “Alan—” My throat was too dry and abused to make much
noise without cutting out from the slices of pain. “—drove the truck that
brought me here. He’s the mole.”

Miles squeezed my forearm. “How do you know?”

“I remembered. Only a bit.” I tried to swallow, but it was
almost impossible.

“She’s drugged,” Miles said, “She could have been
hallucinating.”

“Three men. Alan driving. Extended cab pickup,” I gritted
out. I wasn’t sure how I was still even conscious, let alone talking. “Blue
dash lights.”

Above me, the men stared at each other. I tried to force out
the rest of the information. To tell them about the scrawny black-haired man,
too, but the room started to sway and spin.

“I’ll kill him,” Miles whispered. Then he touched my chin,
rubbing his finger gently over my skin. “Silver, I need you to listen to me
now. Kirk fired the gun. Say it.”

I took a deep breath and whispered, “Kirk fired the gun.”

Fire Inside

I woke up again as Kirk opened the door to the infirmary.
Everything hurt and I felt like everything between my legs was on fire. I cried
out as the cold table irritated my beaten back.

“Make it stop, Kirk. Please.”

He rubbed his hand over my least injured cheek and lowered
his lips to my ear. “Stop calling me that before someone hears you.” As he
straightened, he kissed my temple.

I jumped when Clarence pulled over a tray of instruments. I
hadn’t even noticed he was already in the room, and I wondered if he’d heard my
slip up. As he snapped on a pair of purple gloves, I tried to crawl off the
table toward Kirk.

“Be still, Silver,” Clarence said.

I wished people would stop telling me to do impossible
things. I remembered what he was like. The subtle enjoyment he got out of
pressing and poking me to the edge of my pain limits. I wasn’t sure I could
handle him touching me at all. Kirk rested his palm against my chest, while the
other gently brushed at my bangs, trying to keep me lying down and calm.

“Everything hurts,” I sobbed. I couldn’t hold back, even
though crying simply made everything worse. I throbbed in places I didn’t know
it was possible to hurt in. The skin on my back felt prickly and raw. Not as
much pain as the whip Kirk had used, but uncomfortable in other ways.

“I’ll take care of the pain first,” Clarence whispered,
rubbing my arm with an alcohol pad and then injecting a pale yellow liquid. As
the warmth spread under my skin, my body went limp, and my already heavy eye
lids almost refused to move. By the time Clarence had prepared the rest of his
instruments, the pain had faded to a fuzzy feeling.

“I’m just checking your injuries,” Clarence explained. This
time, his touch was delicate and slow. “You shouldn’t feel anything too
painful, but if you do, let me know.”

I nodded my head, unable to do much else. He started with
the swollen patch on my face, feeling carefully around it and then laying a
cold pack wrapped in towels over it. Kirk took a stool near my head and held
the cold pack against my cheek, resting his other hand on my shoulder. My head
bobbed to the side, I was face to face with the tribal snake that decorated
Kirk’s forearm.

I felt Clarence’s hands working down my body, applying some
kind of salve to the red marks across my breasts, stomach, and thighs.

I blinked and the snake tattoo moved as if it was uncurling
from his arm. My eyes closed and I gasped, forcing them open again.

“Pain,” Clarence asked.

I shook my head. Kirk leaned over me, his grey-blue eyes
seemed almost glittery then his pupils turned to long slits.

“Then what is it?” he asked.

Reaching a hand up, I rubbed his cheek, then dropped my hand
down to the tattoo, which had stopped moving again. “I’m either dreaming or
hallucinating.”

Kirk’s head jerked up. “How much morphine did you give her?”

“Enough,” Clarence replied. “And stop scowling. It was less
than half a dose. I was afraid of it reacting to anything they gave her.”

It was enough, the room danced around us and shimmery
figures moved across the ceiling. Much better than pain, something gripped
inside my chest, waiting for the images to turn dark and scary. I squeezed
Kirk’s arm, and he bent forward to kiss my forehead. “I got you,” he whispered,
and I gave into the warmth.

I lost track of time, floating on the bed, with Clarence
slowly working over me. Then, he pressed my legs apart and I snapped out of my
calm retreat.

“Easy,” Kirk said softly, brushing the back of his fingers
against my uninjured cheek. “He needs to check your injuries. Just concentrate
on me, okay?”

I nodded, but convincing my body to relax again while
Clarence worked between my legs wasn’t so simple. He moved with care,
positioning me so he could do a vaginal exam. Every poke hit a tender spot, but
the drugs made it tolerable—physically if not mentally. My mind screamed,
trying to crawl away from the violation. I wanted clothes, a blanket, a place
to hide. Siding with my brain, my skin broke out in goosebumps.

“I’ll grab her a blanket,” Kirk said, “she’s freezing.”

I caught his wrist as he rose, terrified of him leaving me.
Under my grasp, the serpent tattoo moved again.

“I’m just walking to that cabinet,” he said, kissing my
forehead. “I won’t be out of sight.”

I kept my eyes on him as he walked the five feet to the
cabinet, but as soon as his back was turned shadows grew from the corners of
the room, slipping out of the cabinets, under the doors. I whimpered, pulling
my arms around myself and Clarence stopped his work. “Silver.”

Kirk draped it over me and cupped the side of my face. I
struggled to inhale as the darkness strangled my lungs.

“It’s not real, Silver,” Kirk whispered. “Breathe.”

My body started to calm again and he returned to the stool
next to my head.

“There doesn’t appear to be any vaginal bleeding,” Clarence
said. I sighed in relief, but given the amount of pain, I couldn’t believe it
was really possible.

“There is a lot of bruising, and some chafing.”

I wrapped my fingers around Kirk’s, and he squeezed my hand.
The worst of the hallucinations were already starting to diminish. “Your
tattoos stopped moving,” I mumbled, my throat felt like a gravel pit.

“Were you having any hallucinations before Kirk brought you
up here?”

“I wish. Snapped out of it once.”

I felt something pressing against my anus again and groaned.

“Shhh,” Kirk cooed, caressing my cheek and wiping away the
tears.

“No rectal tears. She’s going to be sore for a while,
though. I’ll give you some Vicodin to hold her over. You should probably keep a
close eye on her for the next few days.”

Clarence stood and lifted my legs from the stirrups pulling
the foot of the bed back out and laying my legs gently across it. “I need to
have a look at her back now.” He touched my arm. “Can you roll on your side?
Toward the door.”

They both helped me roll over just as the door to the
infirmary opened. As the cool draft drifted in, followed by the smell of Ross’
cologne, I was thankful for the blanket.

“Can I talk to you, Kirk?”

“Please,” I begged. I didn’t want him to leave. I feared
what Ross would do to him. To us.

“I won’t leave the room,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “The shadows will get me.”

“Are you still seeing things?” Kirk asked.

Ross approached and grabbed his arm pulling him toward the
door, but Kirk held his ground. A black hooded cloak rose up, enveloping Ross.
Death had come to claim my Master.

My body clenched and I kicked to get off of the bed. A hand
grabbed me from behind.

The cloaked hand dropped away and Kirk crouched in front of
me, putting his hand to my face. “Breathe, Sugar. What do you see?”

I shook my head, digging my fingers into his wrist. I
blinked, feeling once again like I had just come out of a dream, but just as
quickly reality slipped into darkness.

Clarence roused me, but I didn’t want to leave my stupor. “I
need you to answer some questions, can you do that?”

I shook my head.

“It’s important, Silver.”

I opened my eyes enough to see Kirk and Ross across the
room. Kirk leaned against a wall, his arms folded over his chest, his gaze
never leaving me as Ross spoke.

“Silver,” Clarence repeated my name.

I didn’t want to speak, but I nodded.

“What’d they hit you with?”

I definitely did not want to go there. Why the hell did it
matter enough to make me conjure up the memory? “Belt, “I replied quickly.

“Anything else?”

Fucking hell
. I fought, trying not to slip back into
the memory. “A stick or something. Didn’t see.”

“Did they rub anything on your back?”

Rub
?
What
? My back, prickly, hot, pain. I
remembered their hands on me. “Maybe.”

Kirk broke away from Ross and came back to my side.

“Does your back itch?” Clarence asked.

I moaned, trying to decipher the rush of messages I was
getting from almost every inch of skin and muscle. “I guess.”

“What’s going on?” Kirk asked. Ross stood behind him,
grimacing. I had a feeling he wasn’t through saying everything he wanted to
say, but Clarence continued his own inquisition.

“How does your throat feel?”

I wasn’t sure where the line of questioning was going or how
he was jumping from my back to my throat. “Sore. Itchy. Dry.”

“Clarence?” Kirk growled.

“She looks like she’s having an allergic reaction. I’ll have
to wash the site and make sure all of the allergens are gone then I’ll put on
an antihistamine cream.”

I blinked and it was like watching a movie that kept
skipping. Kirk and Ross were once again huddled in a corner. Something warm and
wet rubbed across my back and I jumped.

“Easy, Silver,” Clarence whispered. “I know it’s sore, but
I’m almost done.”

“Will I forget?” This time I wanted to forget. I’d been
searching so long to get back the memories of how I got here, but now I
wondered if I wanted those either. “They gave me something, tasted soapy.”

“GHB. It’ll clear from your system pretty quickly.”

“And I’ll forget?”

“I don’t think they gave you enough.”

“I forgot last time. Forgot how I got here—” My voice caught
in the back of my throat and I coughed.

“I’m sorry, Silver. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Can I have water?”

“Sure,” he nodded. For a moment, I felt completely alone
even though Clarence was only a few feet away, and Kirk was still in the room.
I was exposed. My soul carved open and left on the table. The morphine felt
like a blanket under my skin, but it also made me feel even weaker. I hugged my
arms around myself, wishing Kirk and Ross would get their conversation over
with.

Clarence returned with a small cup and helped me roll to my
back. Then, he raised the head of the bed up so I could drink.

The voices across the room grew louder, and for the first
time I could make out their words.

“It wasn’t your call,” Ross said. “You need to get it in
your head that she’s a damn slave.”

“It was me,” I said, my voice quivering.

They both looked my way, and I saw Kirk’s head shake
slightly.

“Let your Master handle this,” Clarence whispered, patting
my shoulder. He looked up and shook his head. “She’s on pain killers, she’s
been rambling.”

I have not
, my brain shouted, but I managed to
silence it. I had been hallucinating, and to be honest I couldn’t be sure
whether I had been rambling or not. Ross crossed the room and looked to
Clarence. “How bad are her injuries?”

“You know, I don’t mind taking care of the girls, but stuff
like this. It shouldn’t happen.”

Ross nodded. “Can you tell me what happened, Silver?”

I wanted to shake my head, but I knew he wouldn’t be as
patient and forgiving as Kirk or Clarence. “He said you wanted to see me. Had
the master keys. They… they beat me… and… and…”

“It’s okay,” Kirk said.

“They saved me. Miles and Kirk.”

Ross raised an eyebrow and looked at Kirk, it took my mind a
few seconds, but I finally realized my error.
Master. Master, damn it
.
No wonder Kirk always yelled at me for using his name.

“Then what?” Ross asked.

Concentrate, Silver
. I glanced over slightly to see
Kirk, but my eyelids were getting so heavy that every time I blinked I could
barely get them open again.