Chapter Seventeen
Rodrigo is in the backseat of the car with him. Colt looks out of the window at Marc and Sebastian as the car is driven out of the warehouse. He looks back until he can't see Marc anymore, then he's left alone with two men in the front of the car and Rodrigo Fiarri beside him in the back.
Colt wants to be with Marc, better the devil he knows than the one sitting next to him.
"I'm afraid you find yourself in the middle of our business in a very unexpected way. I wasn't sure if he would fuck you in front of all of us. I should have known he would, bold and brash as he is." Rodrigo is looking sideways at him. Colt continues to stare forward at nothing in particular. "He is too much like me. It is no exaggeration to say that he is obsessed with you. I know obsession well. I've had a few Colt's in my time... although mine were not straight men like yourself."
Colt hears Rodrigo chuckling with amusement then. It sounds far away, like they aren't sitting in a backseat together. It's obvious that the older man is laughing at him though. Colt feels embarrassment.
Marc fucked him. Marc fucked him in front of all of those people. Colt's still in shock. That was his first experience with anal sex and he can still feel the sting of it, he can still feel the wet of Marc's cum between his ass cheeks.
"It has been so easy for him to manipulate you, Colt. It's been so easy for him to make you do things that you never would have done before him. I want to learn why. I want to know what buttons he pushes to make you do things with and for him. I must admit that his obsession has been an interesting experiment for me to observe." Rodrigo says. "Are you even aware that he's doing it?"
Colt doesn't answer. He's not stupid. He's fully aware that Marc knows how to manipulate him. Colt is only ever aware that it's happened after the fact. Is it because he's weak? Is it because he's so fucked up from a shitty childhood that he can't see straight with a bulldozer of a man like Marc Fiarri in his life? Is it because somewhere, deep down, he's always wanted what Marc gives him? Is it because being bossed around and bullied is the only kind of relationship he knows?
Love is toxic. Marc and him together are toxic.
Marc fucked him. Marc fucked him. Marc fucked him. Marc raped...
Colt's mind gets hung up on that word. Was it rape? It doesn't feel right to call it rape after everything he and Marc have already done together. They're together. They belong to each other. They would have eventually done this anyway, right? Marc said he fucked him because he loved him and he wanted to be his first. Colt is so damn confused and he's still in shock.
Love is toxic.
"I think you're in a state of shock, Colt. I'm afraid it won't be easy for you with me, not at first. But I promise that if you play your cards right, if you are very good for me, I will make things easier for you."
Marc thought Rodrigo was going to fuck him. That's why he wanted to do it first. Marc is always trying to collect all of Colt's firsts. Is Rodrigo going to fuck him? Will it hurt like it did in the warehouse?
His mind starts pushing past what happened in the warehouse only because it has to. He puts it in a box in his mind and shoves it out of the forefront of his mind. He thinks about what Marc had said to him.
I love you, Colt.
No, that's not what's important right now even if that's where his mind wants to linger.
Love is toxic.
Be brave, Colt.
Yes. Be brave.
He's in a car with Rodrigo Fiarri going to an unknown location. Colt looks down to the door handle and up to the door lock. It looks locked. He could easily unlock the door and open it and jump out of a moving car. Right? People do that in movies all the time and survive.
"Don't think about it, Colt." Colt feels a prick at his neck and reaches back just as Rodrigo pulls a needle away from his skin. "Relax and enjoy the ride."
Time becomes more fluid as the seconds tick by and everything blurs around the edges. Rodrigo's arm is around his shoulders and Colt wonders when he started leaning against the other man. He thinks to push himself away, to try to sit up. He feels the arm around his shoulders tighten and he isn't sure whether he just thought about pushing away or whether he actually attempted it.
Colt doesn't realize it when the car stops. Did he fall asleep? He feels himself being pulled and jostled out of the car. It's hard for him to focus enough to take in his surroundings as he's taken into a large structure of some sort. His eyes keep wanting to droop closed. His brain wants to shut off and sleep.
Stairs are tricky. Two men have to practically drag and carry him up some stairs. He ends up in a small room and is laid down on a bed. It feels so good to lay down.
As much as he tries to keep his eyes open, tries to keep himself awake, he can't do it. Colt lets the drugs take him into a deep sleep.
**
Colt doesn't dream. At least he doesn't remember any dreams and he's glad for that fact. He isn't sure where his subconscious would take him if he dreamed right now. As he starts to wake up, he becomes aware of his own nudity. He tries to move and he can't. His limbs are secured in the position he's in.
Speaking of the position he's in, his muscles cramp as if they've been in the same position for a long time. That's what woke him up, that insistent and increasing ache.
He's lying face down on a mattress. His wrists are tied together and to the headboard above his head. It feels like pillows are beneath his stomach. His knees are bent and his legs folded up and spread wide. There are ties at his knees holding them in this folded position. His ass is prominently displayed and vulnerable.
He lifts his head just a bit to look around.
The room is small, about the size of the galley kitchen at his house. He's on a slim, twin bed. In the corner there's a toilet. The door is behind him. He can vaguely see it out of his periphery. There's a cabinet on one wall. He's not cold. The room temperature is comfortable enough that he's not cold even though he doesn't have a stitch on.
