Chapter 24
Punish the Wicked
Oliver’s mouth watered as he pulled the phallus out of Rune again, taking his time to ease the head past Rune’s impressively swollen rim.
Rune was dazed, delirious, softly muttering an endless, “Fuck you… fuck you…” Oliver was pretty sure Rune had no idea he was doing it.
When Oliver leaned forward and took a wide, slow lick over Rune’s rim, the next “fuck you” broke apart in the sweetest, most beautiful way, the tone of Rune’s voice climbing up and up. Oliver licked him again, and again, loving how still and relaxed Rune became at the gentle petting of Oliver’s tongue.
Oliver plunged two fingers roughly through the puckered, hot opening to rub around inside, savoring the tenderness of the passage and the way Rune gasped harshly and flinched in reaction.
Rune sobbed a little, but didn’t clench.
Oliver found his gland, massaging it lightly, and Rune’s breathing choked off, his tension coming right back as he combated the stimulation, then convulsed, a broken sound leaving him.
Licking around where his fingers were nestled, Oliver felt a hand grab hold of his cock in warning, squeezing it, and he laughed.
He kept going, applying his tender torture, until the hand shifted to grab his balls instead.
“Okay, okay.”
He withdrew his fingers, kissed Rune’s puffy, pink rim, plunged his pointed tongue through it once, then sat up and unlocked the chain.
Rune rolled to his side, boneless, panting, his eyes closed. He didn’t react or respond as Oliver removed the collar and the cuffs.
When his eyes opened a crack, gazing up at him, Oliver told him, “You’re not the only one who can punish the wicked.” He leaned in and kissed the tumble of Rune’s black hair.
Rune’s eyes closed again. His breathing evened out. Oliver lay down behind him, spooning up close.
An arm looped around Rune’s chest. Rune wove their fingers together, and fell right asleep.
It was a couple of days before Rune heard from Max. Finally, the message came through. He wasn’t even really surprised to get it.
The Lions were staking out the clubhouse. They were on to them. Had it been Max’s jacket? The bike plate? Something they’d found in the brush by the bar? There was no way of knowing for sure.
But the chance was there they suspected Rune as the guy who’d been hounding them, who’d beaten up Kurt Radner and who’d called the cops.
It meant Rune had to stay away for a while. Keep his distance.
It meant The Born Soldiers had to lay off the Lions right when they were so close to nailing them to the wall.
But close wasn’t good enough.
They knew it. So did Rune.
It had always been a possibility that when Rune and The Born Soldiers had sent an anonymous message of warning that night with Kurt Radner, it would have repercussions. They’d gone for Kurt because of his homophobia, specifically. They’d made a point of letting him know it was why they’d singled him out. Oliver always suspected it would go wrong on them somehow.
It did.
Five days later, the report came over the news, tossed out during the morning segment on a local station between the performance of a mid-level tween pop singer and a segment on how to cook a delicious vegetarian lasagna.
Rune lunged for the remote, just to keep it out of Oliver’s reach, his eyes glued to the screen. Oliver listened while studying Rune, who stared, unblinking at the closed captioning.
“…A seventeen-year-old male was found dead this morning out on route thirteen near Reading. Reports from local police indicate he was tied to a tree and shot several times by assailants. His name and identifying details are being withheld at this time as suspects are pursued. Stay tuned right here to channel six for more on this developing story…”
Rune’s expression was strained, his hands shaking as they clutched the remote. Reading was where the White Lions were based. Route thirteen was where Rune’s crash had happened, over a year ago. The tone of the story sounded too much like them for Oliver to dismiss it outright.
Trying to figure out what to do, how to reassure Rune, Oliver was almost caught off guard as Rune turned on a heel and began to sprint to the door and exit.
Oliver caught him, barely managing to step in his path just in time. Clutching Rune’s upper arms, Oliver held him there, trying to meet Rune’s frantic gaze which was glued to the doorknob. For a long moment, he fought Oliver’s hold, then stilled.
Instead, he reached for the phone tucked in the back pocket of his jeans.
Oliver slipped it from his hands and held it high up over his head as Rune tried to jump for it. When he couldn’t reach it, Rune punched Oliver’s shoulder, then tried to climb him like a monkey on a tree.
“Stop!” Oliver yelled, uselessly. “Fucking stop!”
He peeled Rune off of him and held up a finger. “Wait. Wait!”
He woke up the phone with a tap and called up Max’s number. Peering over Oliver’s shoulder, Rune calmed down just a hair.
Oliver placed the call.
A very confused Max answered, “Hello?”
“It’s Oliver. I have his phone. He’s here, just upset. Too upset.”
“Oh,” Max said with relief. “Makes sense. Figured he’d be calling, just… you know. A video call.”
“So you heard?”
“Yeah, I heard. Poor kid.”
“It was them?”
“Sure was. News isn’t saying so, but the kid was gay. Got a source downtown that gave me a few extra details. Story is, the Lions set the kid up on an online date, waited for him to show, just like Rune. Got him way out in the middle of nowhere, on route thirteen where there’s fuck-all in every direction, then did some target practice. The sick fucks.”
“My god,” Oliver groaned. Rune was right in his face, inches away, inhaling his air and following the movements of his lips like his life depended on it. “It’s the same thing. Same trick as with Rune.”
“Yeah. Bet it’s the same guys, too. Just seems stupid, you know? Rune just gave his statement. The cops’re on their scent. Why take the chance?”
“Because they can. Because they don’t care about anything other than hurting the people smaller than them to make themselves feel big.”
Oliver felt sick to his stomach. That could have been Rune. Was Rune.
“What… what can we do here, Max?”
“Just let it be. Let the cops handle it.”
“You really think I’m gonna be able to keep Rune away from this?”
“You’ve gotta try. They’re still coming around here all the time. Keeping watch over us. Like they want us to make a move. We can’t give ‘em the satisfaction. He’s gotta stay way the hell away from here until we say otherwise.”
“Okay. Thanks Max.”
“Hey.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t tell ‘im more than you need to, ya hear?”
“Got it.”
Oliver hung up, walked a few steps, crouched, jumped as high as he could and stuck the phone on top of a decorative beam running across the ceiling of the kitchen.
Rune growled, yelled and came charging at him, knocking Oliver back into the wall.
Setting his teeth, Oliver willed himself to do what needed to be done.
Rune started hitting him. Oliver grabbed hold of Rune’s wrists, twisted one around behind Rune’s back, pushing it up, forcing him to bend over and struggled to bring the other arm back too.
Rune broke free of the hold, too slippery to pin. He spun, sweeping Oliver’s feet out from under him and sent him falling sideways. Landing heavily, Oliver cursed and twisted onto his stomach, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and hip from the collision with the floor.
While he was down, Rune started to go for Oliver’s pockets, digging for his phone instead. Rather than trying to stop him, Oliver lunged forward for the side table nearby, located on the far end of the couch nearest the kitchen. He got the drawer open and palmed what he was looking for inside while Rune started trying to unlock Oliver’s phone.
Springing up into a crouch, Oliver took a deep breath and went for Rune. The phone went flying across the floor. Rune sailed into the wall, face-first, though he managed to brace himself with his hands.
Oliver snapped on the first handcuff. Rune stared at it with incredulity while Oliver yanked the cuffed arm behind Rune’s back and snapped on the other one too.
Rune yelled, fought, kicked.
“I’m sorry,” Oliver said circling the front of his chest with a closed fist, nuzzling the back of Rune’s neck, trying to show Rune he was calm, composed. “I know I’m breaking the rule, but it’s for your own sake here, okay?”
Rune threw his head back and bashed Oliver in the nose.
“Fuck!”
Stars exploded in front of his eyes, his hand flying to his nose to check for blood.
Rune spun, plowed into Oliver, who skittered backward but stayed on his feet. Rune squared up for another charge and Oliver dodged out of the way, then stuck out a foot to trip Rune as he went past, even though Oliver felt like a total asshole for doing it.
Rune crashed to the floor with a bang. He writhed, groaning after landing on his shoulder rather than his face. While he was down, Oliver grabbed hold of him by the cuffs and dragged him over to the larger cabinet in the living room where more supplies were kept. Rune yelled in pain as his shoulders strained in the wrong direction, but he wasn’t going far. After a few feet, Oliver was close enough. He found the leg cuffs he needed and got them on before Rune had the ability kick him more than three times for his trouble.
For the finishing touch, Oliver connected the ankle cuffs to the wrist cuffs, hogtying Rune where he lay.
“You fucking suck, Oliver!” Rune screamed, his voice cracking.
Oliver laughed breathlessly. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve said my name, you little shit.”
He dabbed at the blood trickling from his nostrils, examined the broken skin on his knuckles from one of the kicks, then crouched to check for injuries on Rune, who was still fighting the cuffs in a rage.
Oliver gave the side of Rune’s face a slap. Then did it again. And again.
Finally, Rune stopped bucking and glared up at him.
“Calm down,” Oliver commanded, doing a soft, soothing, sweeping gesture from the center, downward and out with both hands and projecting all of the power and control of a Dom.
Rune gave one more primal, blood-curdling yell, then shut up and fell still. He lay there, panting, stomach down, facedown, arms and legs connected behind him.
Oliver retrieved his phone, unlocked it, then started dictation on it. He crouched by Rune’s head and held the screen up for Rune to read.
The police are handling this. You are not going over there. Max says to stay away. Lions are watching the Soldiers. You’re not going over there, so calm down. Are you hurt?
Rune hocked up some phlegm and spit it at him.
Then he seemed to notice the blood on Oliver’s face and hands and dropped his eyes.
Oliver felt around Rune’s body, especially the side he’d fallen on and his shoulders, but there was no reaction that spoke of a break or anything serious.
Oliver cleared his screen and started again.
I’m sorry about the cuffs, but I need you under control. If you can stay calm for a little while, I’ll unfasten your right cuff so you can type or write.
Oliver left him there for a moment and went to the kitchen to get an icepack. Then he sat with it, leaning up against the couch by where Rune lay, pressing the ice to his nose.
When Rune had laid still for a solid five minutes without any yelling or squirming, Oliver unfastened one cuff, as promised. Rune reached immediately for the pen and pad Oliver had set out for him.
This is really your plan?
Oliver nodded, muttering, “for now, anyway.”
They killed him, Olly.
“I know, kid,” Oliver said with regret.
Rune’s hand hovered over the paper, then scrawled, I don’t know what to do.
Oliver crawled over to him, pressing kisses to Rune’s cheek and forehead. Oliver held onto him, weaving his fingers through Rune’s dark hair. He tried to push all of his love through the connection and into Rune.
He took the pen, wrote beside Rune’s words:
There’s nothing. I just need to keep you safe. It’s all that matters now.