“I’m gonna have to fuck you today.”

Gray reeled from Darius’s comment at breakfast. Gray was gonna be pushed past his limits for this. It was sinking in now as they entered the dungeon on the second floor. It had to be right below their stateroom, or close to it.

He walked a little behind Darius, who’d only put on a wifebeater to go with his dress pants. Bare feet, belt unbuckled. Gray couldn’t remember what actual clothes felt like. He’d worn nothing other than underwear since his fucked-up physical.

They’d spent the morning talking about everything that had to do with their situation, from what they knew of the boys and the buyers, to the mapping out of the yacht. Darius had a mad amount of info already, causing Gray to backtrack in his head. They hadn’t discussed everything about their situation. Someone in particular was keeping secrets.

“I’m gonna have to fuck you today.”

It was early in the day; lunch hadn’t been served yet, and only two other people were in the dungeon. The sleek, lavish interior of the rest of the yacht was a distant memory down here, replaced by walls padded in black leather, a couple coffee tables that were also steel cages, contraptions Gray had only seen when his best friend took him to that kink club in Seattle… Except, this fucking-machine had a rifle attached at the grip instead of a dildo, the St. Andrew’s cross on the wall was circled in barbed wire, and—fuck. Gray swallowed hard at the sight of a black-painted mechanical bull. Cruelest sense of humor. When someone fell off of it, they’d land on a spike mat.

“I’m gonna have to fuck you today.”

Gray shuffled closer to Darius and passed some other equipment. It was best he didn’t know what torture they inflicted.

One of the sick bastards was face-fucking Linus, an eighteen-year-old guy from the Midwest with freckles.

Darius draped an arm around Gray’s shoulders. “Mind if we watch?”

The tall, slender sadist spared them a glance and gestured at the seating area in another corner. “By all means, I’m just giving my toy a reward.”

It didn’t look like a reward. Linus was choking and had tears streaming down his face, and Gray averted his gaze. That couldn’t be sex. How many times had Gray gotten down on his knees to have his throat fucked? How many times had he almost come from it? Shame and disgust slithered into his body.

Darius kept Gray close once they were seated on a couch, and he pressed a kiss to Gray’s temple. “Do you see the tall cabinet behind the kid?” He lingered, under the guise of nuzzling Gray’s jaw. “There’s a crowbar and a plastic bag with a thin wire stashed on top of it.”

Gray didn’t respond, trying to shut out the sounds of Linus gagging. The suffering reverberated in his head, and it was as if the crack in his chest kept getting wider and wider. I used to love that sound. I’m fucking sick. The son of a bitch grunted out his orgasm before pushing Linus away so he landed in a heap on the floor.

“Kill me,” Linus rasped. “Please kill me.”

Gray’s eyes welled up, and he balled his hands into fists.

The buyer chuckled at Linus and zipped up his pants.

“Hey.” Darius gripped Gray’s jaw tightly and gave him a hard stare. “You wanna get out of here?” he whispered. “Then you better fucking control yourself.”

Gray wrenched away and glared at him. Darius didn’t know what it was like. For months, Gray and the others had been treated like cattle. This was the slaughterhouse, and rather than being turned into steaks and burgers, they were violated, abused, and degraded.

Darius had told him he needed a day to watch the others and collect the items his brother had left on the boat for him. He’d told Gray they’d have to make their presence look legit.

“I’m gonna have to fuck you today.”

“What do you want me to do?” Gray tried to collect himself and focus, but the anger and the repulsion simmered just below the surface. He wanted nothing more than to torch this whole boat.

“I want you to remember.” Darius exchanged the roughness for something almost tender and stroked Gray’s cheek. Gray frowned and found himself trapped in the temperate severity of Darius’s gaze. “I’m gonna show you where my brother’s hidden shit so we can defend ourselves. Now, don’t look. What did I say was on top of that cabinet?”

Gray swallowed uneasily. “Um, a crowbar. And a wire.”

Darius inclined his head and leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to Gray’s jaw. “Everything we do is under scrutiny. Our cover’s secured, but we have their interest, and they have cameras everywhere.”

Fuck. Gray hadn’t even thought of that. Nerves tightened his gut. “How should I act?”

“The way you are now is fine. They see a man with an eye for mental sadism earning back your trust. It’ll leave room for your emotional tantrums.”

Gray’s glare was back in an instant, and he backed away from Darius, who looked mildly amused.

“Case in point.” He stood up and offered a hand to Gray. “You’re the skittish animal who wants to believe me, but every now and then, you back off in anger.” He paused to give Linus’s owner a nod as they passed on their way out. All Gray heard was the tremor in Linus’s choked cries. “Let’s go, knucklehead.”

Gray ignored the proffered hand but rose to his feet.

They were going to the top deck next, and Gray soon learned it was where most of the “guests” were gathered. A handful of men sat at the table where dinner had been served yesterday. It looked like they were playing cards.

There was a bar set up. Two young men were serving drinks.

The pool across the deck completed the postcard-worthy scene that made this whole thing look like a luxurious vacation.

Except for the part where two or three—make that four—boys were kept here against their will. Gray spotted Cole and Jackie chained to the slave posts. Charlie was kneeling behind his buyer’s chair, and he was naked. Lastly, Lee was in the pool with the man who’d bought him and Oscar.

Milo wasn’t here.

Neither were Red and her psycho son.

Darius picked a chair near the pool and shifted it to face the sun. He was just another man enjoying his vacation. Then he stripped off his pants and beater, leaving him in the same brand of black boxer briefs as Gray.

A young guy hurried over, his pale skin having turned pink around his shoulders and neck. He wouldn’t make eye contact. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”

Darius studied him while he folded his pants over the backrest of the lounger. “Are you allowed to play with the guests, boy?”

Gray shot him a look. What the fuck was he planning? Leave the boy be. It didn’t take a genius to see the waitstaff was here against their will too.

“The staff is at your service for your desires, sir,” the guy replied softly.

“Hm.” Darius got comfortable on the bed and parted his legs, one knee pulled up. “Six shots of vodka and a bottle of sunscreen for now.” He patted the spot between his legs for Gray. “Have a seat.”

The waiter scurried off, and Gray reluctantly sat down with Darius.

“What’re you up to?” He furrowed his brow at the man.

“Getting a head count. Valerie referred to the waiters as the CD crew, and I didn’t think she was talking about cross-dressers.”

Gray snorted under his breath and leaned back against Darius’s chest.

“Collateral damage,” Darius murmured. “That’s what it stands for. I wanted him to confirm they’re instructed to let the owners use them. Now I know, and it might give us leverage.”

“How?” Gray was horrified to think what collateral damage meant. Like, they were necessary, but if an owner accidentally killed one, it was worth it?

“There are approximately thirty-five people on board,” Darius replied quietly. “Just knowing the waitstaff of at least eight isn’t part of the enemy means less resistance.” The last word got stuck in Gray’s head, maybe because it wasn’t until now that it hit him there would be resistance. Christ, he was dumb. What’d he expect? That they’d sneak out of here undetected? “Moreover, they’re probably not as fragile as the rest of you. Chances are they’ve been around a minute.”

Gray grimaced. Fragile. Fuck you.

“I saw that.” Darius dipped down and nipped at Gray’s neck. The act was rattling. As if this was something to be playful about. “Put your pride aside, okay?”

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. “Sure.” He looked away and folded his arms over his chest as the waiter returned with a tray.

Darius threw back a shot of vodka and directed the waiter to rub lotion on him.

All Gray wanted to do was apologize.

“What’s your name, boy?” Darius asked.

Uncertainty flicked past in the guy’s eyes, and he poured some lotion into his hand. “Excuse my stupidity, do you mean my actual name?”

“That’s the one.”

“J-Jonas, sir. But it can be whatever you like.”

Gray leaned forward and averted his gaze again. He couldn’t stomach this. The guy, Jonas, began rubbing the lotion onto Darius’s chest and shoulders. Gray wanted to fucking cry. How defeated were you if you were willing to change your name for someone else? How fragile were you?

“How did you get a job here, Jonas?” Darius asked.

“I-I applied,” Jonas answered shakily.

Gray scrubbed at his face, the sun beating down on him. Even though he realized Darius was doing this for a reason, to dig up information, it was sickening.

“Look at me, boy.” Darius’s low command carried enough authority for both Gray and Jonas to stiffen. Jonas probably obeyed too. Gray couldn’t exactly see what was going on behind his back. “Do you want to go home?”

Holy fuck, what was Darius doing?

“I d-don’t understand,” Jonas stammered. “I can’t go home.”

“Why?” Darius wondered.

There was a stretch of tense silence, after which something changed. There was a shift in the air, and Jonas seemed to relax. Or more accurately, power down.

The next time he spoke, his voice was dead. Quiet, devoid of emotion. “I’m lucky to have this job. They take care of me here. They saved me.”

“That was a nice script, Jonas. You can go back to the bar.”

“Yes, sir.” Jonas stood up, keeping his gaze downcast, and left.

Instructed to get on his feet, Gray left the lounger and watched Darius turn his back on the deck. There was a silent order for Gray to take his vacated seat, and he sat down awkwardly, ass on the lounger, legs snaked halfway around Darius’s hips.

Darius scooted closer and handed over the bottle of sunscreen. “Are you focused?”

Gray nodded, though he’d needed the reminder. Even more so now when he was up close with Darius’s chest for the first time. He hadn’t been able to see the design of his tattoo before; now he did. Darius’s right pec and shoulder were filled with hundreds of digits and what looked like signatures. Some were dates, judging by the format. Some were bigger than others. The styles varied, though most of them were plain typewriter fonts.

A spark of attraction ignited as Gray took over from Jonas and rubbed in the lotion. He’d have to be dead before he stopped acknowledging looks, and Darius had them in spades. It wasn’t the first time he thought…in another time and place, Jesus Christ. Gray would’ve flirted his ass off.

“The supply closet behind the bar,” Darius said under his breath. “You see it?”

Gray flicked a glance that way, seeing two white doors built into a set of stairs. It led to a big platform with a huge sunbed on top. There was no one up there now.

“Yes.” He brushed his hands up Darius’s shoulders and neck.

“There’s an inflatable lifeboat in there.” Darius continued speaking, his voice quiet. “It will be our second exit strategy if the first one fails.” He paused. “Ryan hid some gear behind the raft—a gun, survival shit, first aid.” Ryan was Darius’s brother, Gray assumed. “If I send you up here because we’re leaving, all you do is throw the thing into the ocean before you jump in yourself. The kit Ryan put together is attached to the boat.”

“Got it.” Gray nodded again and accidentally glimpsed a couple of the other men. “Um, the fuckers at the table are watching us.”

“Of course they are. They can’t figure me out.” Darius took another shot of vodka and hissed at the burn. “I should probably placate them with some violence. Curiosity is one thing. Doubt is another.”

This, Gray was prepared for. He could take a punch. It was one thing he was good at, he guessed. “Should I do something wrong so you have to punish me?”

“No, I’m saving that. Lean back a bit.”

Gray braced himself and did as told, and the second his back touched the cushion, his head flew sideways from Darius backhanding him. Gray blinked, stunned. The pain didn’t strike immediately, covered up by the thick shock.

“Did I say you could stop?” The anger in Darius’s tone pierced through the ringing in Gray’s ears, and it brought him back. His cheek was on fire, he tasted copper, and tears sprang to his eyes.

He sucked in a trembling breath and blinked rapidly. The tears didn’t make sense. As much as it hurt, it was nothing to cry about. It was a physical reaction. Wiping his mouth on his arm, he saw a smear of blood, and he sat up straighter. He’d dropped the lotion, so he picked it up again.

The tremors in his hands were fake. An act. The fear wasn’t, and it fucking killed Gray. He’d known the strike was coming, and Darius was here to rescue him. Why was he afraid? Why couldn’t he look Darius in the eye now? Why did he feel so worthless?

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know why he said that.

A couple chuckles rang out from over by the table, and Gray eyed them discreetly to see he and Darius were losing the men’s attention. They went back to their poker game or whatever it was.

Appeased by a bitch slap.

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” Darius cleared his throat. “Do you need a reminder of why I’m here?”

Yes, please. “No,” Gray whispered.

Darius leaned closer and cupped Gray’s jaw. “Listen to me, knucklehead. I’m gonna get you out of here, all right? In a few days, you’ll see your family. If it’s the last thing I do.”

Gray closed his eyes and swallowed hard. A few days… He couldn’t see it. Along with everything else in Gray’s old life, the future was distant. He couldn’t reach for it even in his mind. Or his wildest dreams.

Darius brushed his thumb over the split in Gray’s bottom lip. Their foreheads touched, and soon after, Gray felt another touch. It was tentative and barely there, but Darius was kissing him.

“They’re gonna think you’re crazy,” Gray breathed out. His heart rate picked up quickly, and he didn’t know what to do. Did he kiss him back? Did he want to? Oh God, there was a part of him that did, and it was messed up. In under two days, his head had been fucked and manipulated one time too many.

“Unhinged,” Darius murmured in agreement. “The crazier, the better.” He wrapped Gray’s fingers around the bottle of lotion and deepened the kiss. “This is the easy part, Gray. We get to fuck with their heads too.”

If only Gray’s head could be left out of it. As Darius swept his tongue into Gray’s mouth, everything went hazy. A bizarre combination of confusion, fright, and need mingled in Gray’s mind. Need for comfort, for affection, need to be treated like an equal, just…need. He found himself kissing Darius back cautiously, almost as if it were his first kiss ever. He was nervous and clueless and didn’t know what to do about the heady emotions that built up.

Forcing his hands to comply, he poured more sunscreen into his palms. Darius grunted softly as the cold lotion touched his back, then relaxed and kissed Gray with more intensity. Practiced intensity. It wasn’t real to Darius. Even when the kiss grew hotter, Gray could sense the absolute control Darius had of everything.

Gray explored Darius’s back, the lotion quickly becoming an afterthought. Unlike Darius, Gray had no control whatsoever. He traced the scars and the muscles and kneaded the flesh, and panic made a quick appearance at the rapidly building lust.

“This is wrong,” he said weakly, out of breath. “I can’t enjoy this.”

“Yes, you can.” Darius threaded his fingers into Gray’s hair and gave him another firm kiss, then slowed it down. “You know how magicians work, right? They distract us with a show over there so we don’t notice what they’re doing right here in front of us. This is our distraction, and it’s okay to enjoy fucking them over.”

Gray’s hands fell to his lap, and he caught his breath with his forehead resting on Darius’s shoulder.

A big distraction. Gray understood. They were gonna run hot and cold to the extremes, Darius being abusive and sadistic one second, only to be affectionate the next, and Gray was gonna eat it up.

All that aside, it wasn’t the kind of enjoyment Gray had referred to. The embarrassment burned hotly because, in a place like this, he’d gotten turned on for a short moment.