Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (57 page)

Without warning, Adam hauled him up on his feet again, but, when his knees buckled, Adam held him until he became steady. “Remain on your fucking feet!” Adam confused him. One minute he cared, the next he treated him like shit. Marc locked his knees and fought to remain upright.

“Time for you to take another piss.”

Mortified at having Adam treat him like a child, Marc cringed when only a few drops hit the bucket. Probably getting dehydrated, but asking for water wouldn’t help speed this scene up. Adam would meet his needs, not his wants.

“You done?”

Marc nodded.

“Fine, but next time you can piss on the floor if that’s the best you can do. I’m not giving you any special favors if you don’t appreciate all I’m doing for you.”

Marc’s face burned with shame. He’d never felt so exposed. Not since he’d been in Mrs. Giovanni’s suite.

Adam yanked him by his arms several steps again, probably back to where he’d been a few minutes ago, and unclipped the wrist cuffs.

“Drink this.” Adam handed him a bottle of water and lifted the hood up over Marc’s mouth and nose. Marc fought the urge to rip the hood the rest of the way off, now that his hands were free. That would only make Adam angry.

Marc’s hand shook as he brought the cold liquid to his lips and devoured it. By the weight of the bottle, he guessed it was only half filled. Barely enough to keep his kidneys functioning. When he finished the contents, he crushed the plastic bottle and handed it back to Adam, who pulled Marc’s hands behind his back again. Marc gritted his teeth to keep from screaming at the counter strain on already aching shoulder sockets and muscles.

“Step up, one foot on each box.” Adam helped guide him onto two wobbly boxes. “Bend your fucking knees and lean forward. Pretend you’re leaning over the john to puke your guts out. You might just feel like puking after drinking that water.”

Marc assumed the position he thought Adam wanted and fought to find his balance. His legs began shaking almost immediately, making the unstable boxes do the same, but he managed to regain his footing, such as it was.

Adam won’t harm you.

Several tugs of the wrist cuffs, and they were clipped behind his back. Adam ran rope through them again. Probably using some sort of pulley to stretch his arms behind him, he nearly yanked Marc’s arms to the breaking point. Another fucking Abu Ghraib stress position. Sweat soaked his hood in a matter of minutes.

Adam is doing this for my own good. I trust him.

He no more than had that thought when a knock at the door made him jump. “Adam! Open the door!”

Karla?

“What are you doing down here, Kitten?” Adam’s voice receded. The door opened. “I told you not to—good God, Karla! What have you done to your hand?”

“I was trying to fix dinner. The knife slipped. I think I’m going to pass out, Adam. Oh!”

“Fuck! Lean on me, Kitten. How long has it been bleeding like that?”

“Ten minutes. I tried to stop it by holding it under cold water.” She hiccupped through her sobs. “I applied pressure. I can’t make it stop bleeding.”

Sounded like a deep tissue wound. “Cut me down, Adam. Let me have a look.”

“I’m scared, Adam. What if something happens to the—”

“Come on. I’m getting you to the hospital.”

“What about Marc?”

“He’s not going anywhere.”

Marc heard the shuffle of footsteps followed by a deafening silence.

“Untie me, Adam!”

No response.

“Adam! Karla!”

The silence dragged on interminably. They’d left him here. Marc began to shift from one leg to the other to relieve the stress. The boxes shook so badly, he decided he’d better stand as still as possible. If he fell off of either of them, he’d pull his fucking arms out of their sockets.

How could Adam just leave him tied and alone like this? How long would it have taken the man to cut him down before he’d taken Karla to the hospital? Adam would never have left a sub alone and vulnerable like this.

All bets were off when it came to anything happening to Karla. Adam couldn’t see reason when worrying about her or the baby.

The strain on Marc’s arms forced him to unbend his knees, but when he tried to straighten his back somewhat, the movement set the boxes shaking violently. He resumed his original position.

Did anyone other than Adam and Karla know he was down here? As time stretched out into what seemed like hours, Marc lost control of his bladder. Piss ran down his legs. He didn’t care anymore. No one could see him.

His body began to shake uncontrollably. So tired. He wanted to sleep, but how could he do so without inflicting major injury on his arms?

The one person he’d trusted to always have his back had abandoned him.

“I’ll take care of you.”

Marc jerked awake at the sound of that voice. “Gino? You came back?”

“I told you I’d always take care of you. What the fuck kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Marc ignored the question. “I thought you were dead.”

“Nah. Taken prisoner. I escaped.”

A prisoner of war? Why had Adam lied to him when he’d described the scenario of Gino’s death in detail? He’d said he even went in to recover Gino’s body.

Adam lied. Everyone did.

“Cut these ropes. Let me down.”

“I can’t.” Did Marc detect a Spanish accent in Gino?

“Why the fuck not?”

“Top will string me up by the balls if I mess with what he’s trying to do here.”

“He’s not even here. He left me!”

“You sure about that?”

How could he be certain of anything anymore? But all indications were that Adam had taken Karla to the ER. “I’m sure.”

“He’s my master sergeant, too, and was long before you ever knew him. I won’t disobey Top. That man went through hell for his Marines in our…my recon unit. You don’t even know the half of it.”

Marc had seen the old shrapnel scars on Adam’s back when he treated Adam on the scene of the cougar attack. Marc had a decent idea of what Adam had suffered for his Marines.

Wait! Hadn’t those injuries happened during the mission that killed Gino? But Gino was here saying he’d escaped, too. His head hurt trying to sort out truth from lies.

“Take off this hood, Gino. I want to see you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m pretty messed up. Besides, you heard what I said about Top’s orders.”

Fine. Marc would talk with him then. Maybe he could work out whatever Adam had wanted him to earlier.

“You going to come home?”

“Can’t.”

Marc’s anger flared. “Why the fuck not? You know how much they miss you.”

“Can’t, but you have no excuse for staying away. Why the fuck are you cutting them off? They love you.”

“Not like they loved—love—you.”

“Bullshit. They loved us both equally.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.”

Gino paused a while before adding, “I’m sorry about Melissa, Marc.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She really didn’t matter. “Wait ’til you meet my new girl, Angelina. I’m going to marry her someday.”

Silence.

Would Gino make a move on Angelina, too? “Touch her and I’ll break your fucking face.”

Mine.

“Hear me, Gino? I mean it.”

No response.

He was gone? Marc’s eyes filled with tears and he shouted, “Don’t fucking leave me again. You promised!”

His body jerked as he caught himself before he fell off the boxes.

Bzzzt.

“Fuck!” Marc jerked awake smelling burning flesh. Had Adam zapped him again with the stun gun? He’d fallen asleep. Had he been dreaming? Hallucinating, more like it. Gino alive? Impossible. While he’d give anything to have his brother back to be able to apologize to Gino for the way they’d parted that last time, he knew in his heart he was dead. His mind was playing tricks on him. Sleep deprived psychosis.

Why hadn’t Marc told him he was sorry just a few minutes ago? Goddamn it! He’d had his chance in that exchange with him, whether real or a figment of his imagination. Instead, Gino had been the one to apologize for screwing Melissa.

“I’m sorry, Gino!” He knew no one was there but screamed out anyway. “I was wrong! I always expected you to come back. You promised you’d never leave me.”

Silence.

Tears dripped off his nose. What day was it? Would anyone be in the house to be able to hear him? Was it a club night? Did Adam close the entire club or just the dungeon area?

What if club members were looking at him now? He’d asked Adam not to allow spectators. But Adam was in control or had been before he left him alone down here.

How could Adam fucking leave someone alone and restrained in a position like this? Even if he did have to get Karla help stat, he could have at least called someone to take over the scene.

He must have. Surely they were there watching over him now. “Damián! Grant! Somebody get me the fuck out of here!”

No response.

Panic clawed at his chest. Marc twisted his fingers in an effort to reach the buckles on the wrist cuffs. Handcuffs would be easier to get out of. Or Velcro closures. He needed to find a way to get down from here. “This scene is over, Adam! Red! You hear me? I’m putting an end to this fucking scene!”

Silence.

“Can anybody goddamned hear me? Dungeon monitors, do your fucking jobs!”

Not that he’d always done his job as a DM. Marc remembered back to when he’d been the DM Supervisor charged with protecting the submissives in the club and making sure the scenes being played out were safe and consensual.

Angelina’s screams that night cut him to the core even to this day. She’d been left at the hands of a poser Dom who had beaten her beyond her limits all because Marc had been late to his post.

Some protector he was.

“
Amore
, I’m so sorry. I failed you, too.” Shame washed over him. “I left you with Sir Asshole too long. My fault.”

Exhausted, his legs began to shake with the effort to remain on the boxes. How long had he been left here? Abandoned. Gino could have cut him down.

But Adam leaving him alone cut even deeper. He’d trusted Adam to take care of him in this scene. But hadn’t Marc instructed him to involve as few people as possible? Maybe if he’d trusted his other friends, someone might have been here to step in when Adam left to take care of Karla’s injury.

Why hadn’t he cut Marc down? Hell, he could have treated her and stabilized the wound in minutes. Adam knew he had emergency medical training but had panicked. His paralyzing fear that something would happen to Karla or the baby was…

But Adam had suffered both those losses in the past. No wonder he didn’t trust Marc to take care of Karla. Adam expected Marc to fuck up, just like that other time…

“
Bambino mio!
” If his hands had been freed, Marc would have covered his ears. He didn’t want to hear her voice ever again. Block it out.
“Water! Marco, bring Mama water!
”

Marc’s throat burned as a racking sob tore from deep inside.

“Fuck you, Gino! Fuck you, too, Adam!”
Leave me. I don’t care.
“I don’t need any of you! Do you fucking hear me? I don’t need you! Rot in hell, for all I care!”

He gasped for air as his lungs constricted. The hood was wet with tears.

“Bambino mio!
I need you!”

“Mama, I’m sorry. I failed you.” He drew another ragged breath. “All my fault.” The crushing weight on his heart threatened to consume him. “I let you die.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“B
ingo. Now we’re getting somewhere.” Adam watched the monitor as they moved into hour fifty-four.

Adam squeezed Damián’s shoulder. “Convinced him you were Gino.”

Damián shrugged. “Flubbed up once saying
our
recon unit, but his head’s so fucked up, I don’t think he noticed.

“You also did a great job on the music selections, too. I’m not sure I’d have been able to hold it together for more than two days of listening to that shit, the way Doc did. You’d have had to lock me up after about thirty minutes.”

“I don’t know why you two think it’s so fucking awful,” Damián said. “I find metal music relaxing.”