“Why don’t you put the gun away and fight me like a real man?”
“Why? So you can do something to my mind again? Yeah, I get it. You’re some kind of mental freak. You did something to me and Ty. And he’s not happy about it, by the way.” Samson shook his head. “He’s out on bail. In fact, he’s outside right now, slitting the throats of the Boy Scouts who should have been watching out for you. Oh, and he’s not alone. I have more men waiting for my signal. They can’t wait to play with your little toy.”
Samson shook his head, having fun for the first time in days. “It wasn’t easy, tracking you down, but Stallbridge is sloppy. The money led right to your precious gym. And Ty couldn’t wait to help me out. It’s just you and me now.” Samson glanced at Gavin and shot him again, on principle.
“I’m going to kill you slow.” Menace dripped from the blond giant’s mouth like venom.
Before he could use any of that weird mental stuff, Samson shot Aidan once, in the thigh. “I’m going to fuck you slow,” he countered. “In a few seconds you’ll feel it. The burn of your muscles slowing, not responding. Then you’ll be paralyzed. Another shot will knock you out. I want you to feel me, though. We’re going to have so much fun, Aidan. Right here, in your own home. Won’t that be special?” He laughed. “I’m not going to kill you. We’re going to fuck for a while. Then you’ll bleed. A lot. And then we’ll go back to my place and play some more. You see, Carl is gone. I’m head of the syndicate now.”
“You ever quit running that mouth?” Aidan didn’t sound scared. Or angry, actually. He sounded bored.
“Tell you what. Want me quiet? Let’s hear some groaning and grunting while I shove inside you. Open your mouth.”
“Fuck off.” Aidan wriggled out from under Gavin.
Impressed he had that much mobility, Samson watched. Then he shrugged and tossed the gun. When was the last time he’d had this much of a challenge? “Why not? It’d be much more fun to take what I want.” He grinned, the thought of forcing Aidan to do what he wanted better than taking a drugged, sluggish ass.
“I thought maybe I could make this slow. But I don’t think I can.”
Perfect. His speech had started to slur. But then Aidan rose to his feet, still steady.
“Come on, sweetheart. Come and get it.” Samson gripped his erection, straining to feel the hot glove of Aidan’s ass all around him. Considering what he’d heard, he knew the big man didn’t let anyone do him. He’d be like a fist, so fucking tight. And he’d scream. A lot. Probably bleed too.
Samson took a step forward. Or he tried to. He couldn’t move.
“Yeah. You’re my puppet now, dickhead. How about you take that gun in your hand. That’s right. Shoot yourself twice. You know where.”
Though the words were hard to understand, and Aidan had to clutch at the bed to stand upright, Samson couldn’t stop himself from picking up the tranq gun and aiming at his own crotch.
Aidan slumped to the floor, but his eyes remained open. He watched as Samson squeezed the trigger, and two darts embedded themselves in his cock.
He screamed in pain, then worry as the drug started to invade his system.
“Not yet. You have more to do. Grab that knife you brought with you. That’s the one.”
Samson dragged the knife out of his jacket pocket, terror making it hard to think.
“Slit your throat.”
He mentally screamed as his knife sank like butter into his own skin. To his shock, he only felt the initial sting. The rest of the cut was painless, probably because he kept his knives super sharp. Coldness settled into his bones, the unfamiliar feel of failure weighing him down.
“No, no. Not yet. You have one more move to make. One final place to rest your knife.”
He stared into Aidan’s eyes, seeing death and hell waiting for him. The cold was worse than anything he’d ever experienced. He tried to scream, but his voice didn’t work. He could only choke and watch as his hand raised the knife, then plunged down once more…
AIDAN WATCHED WITH dark pleasure as Samson stabbed himself in the crotch and twisted the knife, his agony a joy Aidan would have a hard time forgetting in the future. If he had one. Samson had been easy enough to handle. Gavin remained safe, but Tyler and those others would have to be dealt with.
He couldn’t move, but with his mind, Aidan controlled the drug in his blood. He kept his brain clear of fuzziness, allowing his body to sag while his mind remained sharp. Gavin would be unconscious but okay. He hoped. With supreme effort, Aidan turned his head to allow himself to see who came through the door.
He’d noted two darts in Gavin’s shoulder. Aidan only had one in him—probably why he could still function.
He heard a door open and the rush of feet. He readied himself, no longer worried about losing control. The headaches that came after using his power like he had could be bad. After that first time with his abuser when he’d been a child, after scrambling the guy’s brain cells, Aidan had nearly seized to death. He hadn’t been able to handle that much overload.
Older and stronger, Aidan thought he could do it. He hadn’t killed Tyler or Samson at the mansion, after all. And just now he’d used Samson like a puppet. But with so many more threats coming, he would simply let go and hope he had enough juice to protect Gavin. He’d probably die, but what the hell. He could go, knowing he was loved.
Gavin seriously loved him. If that didn’t beat all, he didn’t know what did.
Tyler Barnes entered the bedroom, looking grim.
Aidan centered his power and attacked.
“Fuck. No. No, no, Aidan, it’s me,” Tyler rasped as he went down on his knees and clutched his head. Blood ran from his nose and eyes, but as Aidan watched, he started to change shape.
What the hell?
Avery rushed in behind “Tyler” with Nathan following. He took in the scene and raced to Aidan’s side while Nathan helped Tyler to the floor, trying to pin him in place while he thrashed.
“Aidan. It’s me. Hey, Aidan.”
While he watched, Tyler grew longer, broader, thicker. Until it was no longer Tyler but Jack Keiser splayed on the floor, twitching and groaning. Someone called for help, and Aidan pulled back on his power, astonished and suddenly too tired to do more than groan. Gavin was okay. It was all right to give in to exhaustion.
“Hey, man. You’re good. We’ve got it all under control. You guys are safe,” was the last thing he heard Avery say before he passed out.
The next thing he knew, he was blinking at a bright-white ceiling and familiar fluorescent lights. The smell of antiseptic hit him.
“I told you to take it easy, didn’t I?” Dr. Cannon sighed. “You men never listen to me. And trust me—I have a bone to pick with my sons about how they handled your security. Don’t worry. I’ll take them to task.”
It took a moment for Aidan to regain clarity, but when he did, he yelled for Gavin. Or tried to. All he managed was a cough.
“Easy.” Dr. Cannon brought him a cup of water. “That was some nasty stuff in those darts. Properties of monkshood and curare but without the deadly consequences, fortunately. Thus you have a paralytic without death. You managed to stave its effects well enough. Gavin is fine, just sleeping.” She nodded, and he turned his head to see Gavin sleeping in a bed on the other side of the room.
Gladdened and almost dizzy with relief to see Gavin okay, he drank the water as well as another cup she handed him. “Thanks. Is Jack okay?”
“He’s fine. I had to do some work with him, though. His brain trauma healed with some fancy footwork, if I do say so myself.” She smiled, but the look she gave him told him she knew he’d been responsible. “That’s some trick you have there. Might want to keep it tight to your chest, though.”