How many times could a plan change in forty-eight hours?

However many times it fucking took, according to Darius. An answer that’d been accompanied by a weirdly be-good-for-me-or-else look.

It’d taken him ten minutes to shower—and switch gears so much that it made Gray dizzy. Now, forty minutes later, they walked into a packed dungeon with a new strategy, and Gray didn’t even have to pretend to be lost. Thankfully, he was more reenergized with determination than ever, but fuck if he wasn’t confused as shit.

He was no longer going to create a diversion by throwing himself at Cole. In fact, Darius was going to expose what his brother had risked a lot to hide. He was also going to “take advantage of Valerie’s infatuation,” whatever that meant.

“This is partly why I haven’t let you in on the planning before,” Darius had told him before they’d left the stateroom. “There’s a reason I gotta come up with several scenarios. You know what they say, a plan never survives the first contact with the enemy.”

Uh, no. Gray didn’t know what “they” said…

So, who knew, maybe it would change again. For now, Gray stuck to the top tasks on their to-do list, and what he had to do tonight didn’t suck that bad. Despite that he was unsure of the reasoning behind it.

The men in the dungeon were gathered around something—a large metal cage. It was a gut punch to see two of the staff guys inside, and judging by what Gray had heard from these fuckers before, the two in the cage weren’t fighting for shits and giggles.

“Come on, now!” Red rapped her thin cane against the metal grid. “If this is how you fight for your lives, they can’t be worth much!”

Gray’s stomach lurched.

“Keep walking,” Darius whispered and ushered him toward the seating area.

Industrial music blended with the gruff chuckles from the buyers and some of the guards. Whiskey was flowing, and the air was thick with sex and cologne. Jackets had been thrown off, ties had been loosened. Shirts untucked. Torture equipment had been pushed to the walls to make room for a monster cage that rattled every time the two boys inside shoved at each other.

Nearing the black leather couches, Gray made eye contact with Cole. Who was naked and panting and kneeling on the floor. Feet restrained and parted with a spreader bar, hands cuffed in front of him. Shame filled his eyes. The British guy—Philip…? He was zipping his pants.

Gray’s heart broke for Cole, and he tried to convey all the promise he could with a look. “It’ll be okay,” he mouthed.

Cole swallowed hard and looked down.

“Mr. B,” Philip greeted.

“Evening.” Darius dipped his chin and got comfortable on one of the couches.

Gray sank down on his knees by Darius’s feet.

“Valerie tried to wait for you,” Philip mentioned. He snapped his fingers to get the attention of one of the servers too. “At least you only missed the first fight. This one just started.”

There’d been one before this? Christ, these savages had no limits.

“She didn’t need to do that.” Darius folded the sleeves of his button-down and gave the server a nod too. “Cage fighting isn’t really my style.” Once Philip had ordered, it was Darius’s turn. “Tullamore, neat—and is Jonas around?”

The server bowed his head. “I’ll get him for you, sir.”

Gray flinched at the sound of a blood-curdling scream, and he tried to shut out the fight taking place less than fifteen feet away. Tilting his head toward Cole, he did a small double take when he saw something. Cole was dragging his finger across a tiny surface on the floor; he was drawing numbers.

Four.

Gray squinted and inched back slightly, enough to shift the glare from the spotlights to another digit. The floor was like the screen on any cell phone. Natural grease from the skin created faint marks that gleamed in the light, and Gray memorized every number. Four, five, eight, nine. Four, five, eight, nine. It must be the stateroom numbers Cole had managed to figure out.

Darius and Gray’s cabin wasn’t close to anybody else’s that he knew. At least, he hadn’t seen anyone come out or enter through the doors at the end of the hallway where their stateroom was. What he did know was their cabin number. Twelve.

Four, five, eight, nine, twelve. That was six buyers and seven hostages. Jackie was…somewhere else, and Linus… Right. So…yeah. Four, five, eight, nine, twelve.

He nodded discreetly at Cole, who let out a breath and wiped his hand over the markings.

Red’s deep voice broke the moment. “My dear Mr. B, I was saddened you missed the first show.” She sauntered over with the server and Jonas.

Darius accepted his drink and patted his stomach. “I’m afraid I wasn’t feeling too well earlier.”

“Oh no.” For being such a sadistic cunt, she sure had a lot of sympathy for some people. She instantly sat down next to Darius and looked at him with concern. “Do you think it was something you ate?”

Gray kept them in his periphery.

“I hope not, because I ate a lot.” Darius winked and touched Red’s cheek, and the sight was like nails on a chalkboard to Gray. “I have quite the appetite.”

Jesus Christ, Red actually blushed. “You’re dangerous, handsome. How many women’s hearts have you broken just by saying you’re into men?”

Fuck you, you fucking hag.

The edges of Gray’s vision blurred with hatred.

Darius chuckled in his rich voice. “Life is too short to limit yourself to one gender.”

Oh, for chrissakes.

If he didn’t have all of Red’s attention before, he sure as fuck had it now. If she got any closer to him, she’d be on his lap. Well, guess that answered what Darius meant by taking advantage of Red’s infatuation. He was going to fucking flirt with the bitch.

Gray tuned out her ugly giggles and Darius’s low murmurs and surveyed the area. Jonas was the first person he saw, and he wondered if Darius even cared that he was the one who’d asked for the guy.

Jonas tested the smallest, most unsure smile, but Gray didn’t need more than that. He returned the discreet smile, and just like that, he was closer to this guy than to most people he’d exchanged smiles with at home. Even people he’d call acquaintances. Or, hell, past flings and hookups.

Remembering he had a job to do, Gray flicked a glance at the glass of whiskey in Darius’s hand before making eye contact with Jonas again. A silent question. Gray lifted a brow, and thank fuck, Jonas offered a quick nod. He’d distributed the drug already.

Gray blew out a breath and couldn’t contain the relief. A full-fledged smile broke out.

The only thing that could kill it did so fast. A listless, bloody body was being dragged out of the metal cage, and the winner didn’t have much to celebrate other than being alive. He’d been forced to beat the life out of someone who’d shared his fate on this forsaken yacht.

Gray caught the pain in Jonas’s expression.

There wouldn’t be sixteen people to save, after all. What were they down to now, fourteen?

Red’s laughter at whatever Darius said made Gray’s blood boil. The fury that simmered underneath the surface made up for lost muscle mass, it felt like. If given the green light, Gray would’ve tried to kill them all.

Fuck, how he hated the world.

The chuckles died down, and Red sighed contentedly and put a hand on Darius’s thigh. “Unfortunately, work calls. There’s one more fight to enjoy, but I’m all yours later. I’ll give you a tour you won’t forget anytime soon.”

Barf.

“Sounds like a plan,” Darius replied. “Perhaps we can discuss the next auction then too.”

That was Gray’s cue to pay attention.

“Oh?” Red leaned closer, curious. “Are you unhappy with your purchase or merely looking to expand your stable?”

Stable? Gray gnashed his teeth together.

Darius slipped his fingers into Gray’s hair and yanked his head back. “I admit, this one was easier to break than I’d hoped. I was promised a hellion whose mind I could pull in and out of enslavement.”

It took everything of Gray’s self-control to keep from rolling his eyes, and Darius knew it. His eyes glinted with a bit of humor, giving Gray a new struggle. He was warming up to Darius so quickly, and the man was fucking beautiful. More than that, he was solid and offered comfort without realizing it. The period of doubting Darius was completely wiped away.

In the meantime, Red was apologizing profusely, stating she’d been so sure Gray was going to be a difficult toy. She also promised she’d speak to the management about another auction.

“Where’s the closest one?” Darius asked curiously and released Gray. “There’s one taking place tonight, isn’t there?”

Red checked her diamond-encrusted watch and chuckled apologetically. “I fear I can’t disclose the location, as I’m sure you understand. Our two guests who were taken there earlier should have arrived now, and they filled the last spots.” She paused, the dumb cunt. She couldn’t disclose the location, but she’d just given Darius a good estimate on the distance. “Are you that disappointed with your slave, sir?”

“It’s not just that,” Darius answered. “I’m always looking for bigger challenges. A second toy might make it more fun. Unless I dispose of this one and find one who can satisfy me properly.”

And it was Gray’s turn to speak. “Master, I can be rebellious for you.”

“Sure you can,” Darius chuckled. At his evident humor, Red allowed herself to laugh too.

“No, I swear.” Gray turned around and put on the show of his life. He pleaded. “I can be a menace if you want. I’ll prove it!” He scrambled to his feet and looked around. Don’t throw up. The two dead boys from the previous fights had been stashed in a pile of limbs next to the mechanical bull with the spike mat.

“What do you think you’re going to do, boy?” Darius looked on in amusement. “I broke you down in a day and a half.”

“No, you didn’t,” Gray insisted. When he glanced out over the dungeon again, he spotted Benny. Ohfuckyes. It was going to be difficult not to enjoy this. Gray had fucking earned this. And besides, he was supposed to do something that would “provoke.” This should cut it.

He left Darius’s side and pushed past a few men who were toasting to a good time. Benny was standing in the background with another guard, and he didn’t see Gray until they were right in front of each other. Gray didn’t even blink or gather any courage. It wasn’t needed. He grabbed Benny’s head and yanked it down as he kicked up his knee.

Adrenaline and satisfaction exploded within, and a hysterical little laugh bubbled up. “I can’t fucking wait to kill you.” His promise was drowned out by Benny’s pained growl and the other guard’s shout. Not a second passed before Gray had two guns aimed at his head, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He could count on Darius.

Another guard had swooped in from somewhere, and he pressed the barrel of his gun to Gray’s temple. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you disrespectful little fuckhole?”

A silence had fallen over the dungeon, including the music.

Benny grunted as he straightened up, a hand cupping his nose. Blood gushed from between his fingers.

Gray grinned. On the one hand, he was empty on the inside. No fear, no pain, no dread. On the other hand, could he really be empty if there was elation, as skin-deep and temporary as it was?

“You’re dead,” Benny rasped.

“You might wanna run that by my owner first.” Remembering he had a destination, Gray slowly shifted one gun away from him and took a step toward the cabinet farther to the left. “Excuse me. Dumb fucks.”

“Gray…”

Gray faltered at the sound of Charlie. Kneeling by his owner across the room, the boy was begging Gray with his eyes—begging him not to get into any trouble. But Charlie didn’t have to worry. It was gonna be okay.

Closing the distance, Gray reached the cabinet and faced away from it. Darius had gotten off the couch, and he was the only one in the room who looked perfectly at ease. Red and most of the others were on edge, and a rotten minority had already jumped to the anticipation and enjoyment of the punishment.

“I’m gonna kill all of you,” Gray said. He scratched the side of his head, then nodded at Red. “You…I wanna stab you with that fucking cane you’re always carrying around. Maybe make your deranged son shove it up your dusty old pussy. You all make me sick, and you deserve to burn in hell.”

“All right, that’s enough, boy,” Darius said mildly. “Nice act, but you’re not fooling me. The minute we’re back in our room, you’ll be begging me to spare you.”

“And you’re not going to spare him, are you?” Red was seething, which she couldn’t show Darius. He was an “esteemed guest,” one with a lot of money. They came first, and Red’s job was to please the guests. Even if it meant one buyer’s toy smashing a guard’s nose. Again.

Darius had talked about this earlier in passing. How everything on board was a power play. If you showed weakness, someone would take advantage.

So he wasn’t going to let himself be bossed around for a second. “That’s up to me, Valerie. Isn’t it?” He gave Red a pointed look before leaving her side and moving toward Gray. “That said, I don’t think any of you will be disappointed in what I have in store for my property.”

Just like that, a collective whoosh traveled through the dungeon. The assertiveness was being restored, and the monsters were looking forward to watching Gray suffer.

Red smiled smugly.

Gray scratched his eyebrow with his middle finger.

Darius was more focused on one of the guards, the one who hadn’t lowered his weapon yet, and it took Gray a couple seconds to realize another fucking plan had changed. Rather than shoving Gray up against the cabinet, Darius was going for the guard.

Gray stepped closer to the mechanical bull and winced at the spikes digging into the soles of his feet. In the meantime, Darius grabbed the guard by the lapels of his jacket and yoked him up, the whole cabinet rattling at the impact.

The tension in the dungeon made a swift return, and the guard’s narrow, dark eyes grew wide.

“You put a gun to my slave boy’s head.” Darius leaned in and nipped at the dude’s cheek, and Gray swallowed uneasily. He had Darius on his side, and the man still intimidated with his dominance and utter confidence. The guard had to be close to pissing himself. Darius was white-knuckling the guy’s jaw, he was squeezing it so hard. “Another wrong move from you, and I’ll make you my fuckhole instead. We clear?”

The guy grunted and struggled to stand on his toes, and he tried to look over at Red first. He was looking for support, but he wouldn’t get it from the woman whose priority was the buyers’ comfort.

“Are we clear?” Darius growled, and he slammed the guard against the cabinet once more. It was hard enough that Gray heard something moving, metal shifting on wood, on top of the cabinet. The crowbar.

No one else seemed to be paying any attention whatsoever to some random noise, but Darius threw the guy out of his way and aced the look of suspicion. He reached up and felt around the top, and Gray inched toward him to be of assistance.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Red asked. She stepped over the guy on the floor as if he weren’t even there.

“You can say that.” Darius’s searching revealed the black crowbar, and he raised a brow at Red. “What the hell is this?”

“I…” Red was genuinely baffled, to no one’s surprise.

“This can be used to kill someone.” Darius wasn’t fucking around with his anger tonight. His next target was Red, and together, they had everyone’s attention. And at Darius’s words, there was a murmur of agreement from the buyers. “What if one of the slaves had gotten his hands on it? Huh? And right here in the dungeon, to boot.”

As he advanced on Red, Gray sidestepped to get behind Darius. He stood ready when one of Darius’s hands appeared behind his back, and Gray quickly and discreetly took the plastic baggie with the thin wire. It was larger than he’d expected. But it did contain a long wire supposedly strong enough to choke someone, so in retrospect, he should’ve known the bag would’ve at least filled his palm.

Red had regained her composure, and she turned to address all her guests. “I assure you, gentlemen, we do not take this lightly. In fact, I’m going to have my men search through all common areas tonight.”

Gray slipped the baggie inside his boxer briefs while no one was looking, the plastic sticking to his thigh. Charlie’s buyer was one of the ones who had a wife on board, and he was particularly bothered by Darius’s discovery. He said he was going to retire for the evening and that he wouldn’t take part in any festivities until they could guarantee the safety of his wife.

There was so much Gray wanted to tell Charlie. The boy wept silently on their way out of the dungeon, and Gray fucking hated it. But, if Jonas had slipped the drugs into the right meals and drinks, Charlie would hopefully find some peace in the morning. According to Darius, the buyer’s wife was a voyeur, not an active participant, unlike that other one…and where was she?

Maybe it’d been Linus’s buyer who’d also had a female companion. It didn’t matter at this point. It was an us-against-them situation, and Gray wasn’t going to spare anyone.

He stood quietly behind Darius, as if seeking cover, while the others expressed their dismay at this turn of events. Gray found them all fucking ridiculous. It was as if they’d all been waiting for something to be less than perfect only so they’d have a reason to be upset. It was a goddamn crowbar, not a Molotov cocktail.

* * *

Considering Red’s promise to search the common areas for weapons, Darius and Gray had work to do. On the small aft deck on the second level, Darius took a relaxing dip in the Jacuzzi, leaving his suit jacket to be used as a new hiding spot. As per Darius’s instructions, Gray leaned against a wall where there was a small hatch to open. The inside wasn’t much bigger than a lunch box—or first aid kit, in this case. There was also a gun, and Gray stealthily took it before stashing it in Darius’s jacket.

The gun was heavier than he’d thought it would be. He’d never held one before.

He’d gone hunting a few times with his big brother, but they’d used rifles then.

“Are you sure the camera didn’t catch it?” he asked quietly.

“I’m sure. Light’s too poor out here.” Darius walked up from the hot tub so they could continue.

In another common area, it was once again Darius who did the distracting. While Gray snatched two knives from underneath a cushy chair in a small seating area, Darius made arrangements with one of the guards. It was about Jonas. He was to be sent to their stateroom in a couple hours.

Gray rose from his position on the floor once he had the knives. He was keeping Darius’s suit jacket draped over his arm now, providing a good place to hide the weapons.

“You know the staff isn’t allowed to spend the night in the guests’ suites, yes?” the guard said.

“That’s fine,” Darius replied dismissively. “No one touches him until tomorrow at lunch, though. I might speak to Valerie about buying him.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll make sure they know.”

* * *

The top deck was the last spot, and Gray was fucking tired. Simultaneously, he was feeling better. Having something to do, accomplishing things, had always worked for him, and now it finally felt like they were on their way. They had dropped off three guns, seven knives, one wire, and three bottles of lighter fluid in their room, and they had an hour before Jonas was to arrive.

The deck was dark, aside from a few torches around the table and the underwater spotlights in the pool.

They weren’t alone, they quickly discovered. Philip, the British guy, was drinking wine and playing cards with Vanya and an off-duty guard. At least Gray guessed so, given the man’s casual clothes. All the others who worked security wore suits.

“What do we do now?” Gray whispered.

The breeze and the lulling wash of the waves forced him to repeat himself, and Darius gestured toward the loungers.

“We block their path instead,” he murmured. To explain what he meant, he pushed one chair to be in the way of the supply closet where Darius’s brother had hidden the lifeboat and another gun. “With the number of bitch fits I’ve had tonight, they won’t cross me.”

Gray’s mouth twitched.

A server arrived, reminding Gray how much they kept track of people here. He could see two cameras, conveniently located near the light sources. And didn’t that just suck. It would make it more difficult to get the lifeboat out. Even when it wasn’t inflated, it took up a lot more space than a damn gun.

“I think I’ll have a look at the menu, actually.” Darius sat down on the edge of the lounger and nodded at the menu tucked under the guy’s arm. “Pet, you can take off my shirt.”

“Yes, Sir Asshole.” The words were out before Gray knew it, and at first, he couldn’t believe it. The stuttered noise from the shocked server confirmed it, though, as did the dry look Darius sent him over his shoulder.

Gray pulled off a stiff, sheepish smile.

What did this mean? Was his humor returning? On a day where three young men had been brutally murdered, he was finding it appropriate to make jokes? Or had he finally lost his mind?

He furrowed his brow and worried his bottom lip as he put one knee on the lounger and began unbuttoning Darius’s shirt. The last thing he should do was go through all the states of mind that’d claimed him since his auction, but morbid curiosity took him there anyway. In the span of…what, less than three days…? He’d been in hysterics, he’d felt the suffocating weight of defeat, he’d ridden on waves of delusional power trips, he’d been crippled by grief, and he’d hated with every fiber of his being.

The server left with Darius’s order, and Gray eased back to await instructions.

Darius got comfortable with nothing but his dress pants on, and he held up an arm, a silent offering. Or order, Gray guessed.

It was weird. He lay down carefully and rested his head on Darius’s shoulder, and it was fucking weird. Darius slipped a hand down to hitch Gray’s leg over Darius’s thigh too, making it even weirder. They were getting comfortable, not like before. Not like when they sat on the other side of the pool earlier and they kissed. This was… Gray didn’t know how to put it.

“You can relax, you know,” Darius murmured.

Gray wasn’t sure he could. Like they weren’t playing, that was how it felt. He released a breath and tried to unclench. The security on the yacht would probably be more reluctant to interrupt if Gray and Darius made it look all intimate or whatever.

“We’re just gonna lie here for an hour like this?” Gray tipped his head back to be able to make eye contact.

In the faint light from the pool, Darius’s eyes looked greener, with golden flecks near the center. His laugh lines and crow’s-feet were a little deeper. His day-old whiskers a bit sun-kissed.

“If only.” He palmed Gray’s cheek lightly, and his hazel gaze glinted with wry mirth. “I’m gonna have to freak you out in a few minutes by making it look like I’m fucking you.”

Gray blinked. Oh…kay. Right, yeah, they were slave and owner, and owners liked to screw their property on occasion. Except, Darius had gone from saying they would absolutely fuck to…maybe they could avoid it, and now it was “make it look.”

“All right.” Gray wasn’t the flirty, carefree guy he’d once been. The guy who’d jump Darius at the first opportunity. He wasn’t that dude anymore, and considering everything going on around them, it was downright sick to want it. No matter how small that part of his mind was.

He could erase the last time.

Gray flinched internally and closed his eyes. What was that fucker’s name, again…? Billy. No, Bob. Bob. Fucking gag. He’d made Gray feel absolutely worthless in a single night, and all he’d used were his hands and a glass bottle.

“If you don’t beg for more, I’m gonna fucking kill you. Your mom will find you just like this.”

Gray bit down on his lip to keep it from trembling.