Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Clover clenched his teeth when Big Nose spread his legs as if Clover weighed nothing, and he proceeded to attach his ankles to the bench as well.
A year since Jerry had sold him to Riggs, captivity felt just as daunting, and Clover was as powerless as he had been back then. But this time, it wasn’t only fear that drove his speeding thoughts. Guilt ate into his brain, rotting all positive thoughts, all hopes. He was here because of stupidity. Not only had he not stopped Drake from a fatal decision, but he’d also drawn Boar into this. Sweet, loving Boar who’d come with them because he worried for their safety.
What had he done?
“Stop lying, Clover. You are going to tell me the truth, so you might as well make it easier on yourself,” Apollo said from behind the glass, watching him through the pale mask.
Clover flinched when a hand glided up the sensitive skin on his inner thigh. He hated the touch with so much intensity he was becoming nauseated. These men toyed with him as if he were a pretty object, a sex doll they’d get to come into. They would make him cry, he had no doubt. They would give him STDs, rip him apart. Then again, would he even live long enough to care about future sickness? Right now, his body screamed to be free of shackles, and he was desperate to cover up from the predators who would abuse him.
“Shall I get the cane, sir?” asked Crooked with a mean smile present in his voice.
“I’m not lying,” Clover said, forcing out words through his clenched windpipe. “There is no one above us. Our attempt was personal.”
“And how would you have known I was the one looking for you, little boy? How did any of your friends know?” Apollo asked, his voice followed by a swish of the air behind Clover.
Even without seeing the cane, Clover tensed and pulled on the cuffs as his heart came up to his throat, pulsing furiously. But there was no pain. Crooked must have swished it through the air to scare him.
“Where are they?” Clover asked, desperate to at least get as much.
“You don’t have to know,” Apollo said in his deceptively pleasant voice.
Clover clenched his eyes and lips, wishing to vanish. For his heart to stop and for all of this to end, because there was nothing good in his future.
He was brought back to reality when the next swish ended with the cane hitting his back. He screamed in pain, pulling on the restraints as pure agony spread through his skin. This was nothing like even the harshest of Tank’s spankings. He saw white and went so rigid his calves screamed out from the sudden cramping
“How did you know, Clover?”
He shook his head, searching for an excuse, but that wasn’t needed. He had a half-truth to sell before the cane cut into his flesh again. “Jerry… J-Jerry. I used to live with him, and we came for him, because he was the one to sell me in the first place. H-he told us about his meeting with you.”
“Oh, Clover. I see we have a long night ahead of us. Five,” Apollo said, and Clover heard a chuckle from one of the masked guests who watched his torture as if it were only a performance.
The cane hit his thigh, then the other, making him scream and thrash. Pain burned into his flesh like needles breaking skin, and his cheeks were hot and damp after just three strikes. Crooked pulled up Clover’s head by the hair and presented his face to the people on the other side of the glass. Shame licked Clover’s skin over how little he could take, how he was already on the verge of begging for mercy despite knowing he couldn’t expect it from these people.
“There’s nothing else,” he whimpered. “I swear!”
But the strokes kept coming, and each time the sharp swish was a prelude to a world of pain. He felt like he was being tenderized for cooking while still alive.
He would die here. There was no way out of this. One stupid mistake, and the family he’d chosen had been torn apart forever. He didn’t want to even imagine what would happen once Tank and Pyro realize what had occurred, but he was feeling sick already.
The cane must have broken his skin because he felt several drops of hot liquid drizzle down his thighs. His brain was mush when he heaved, awaiting another strike, helpless in the bindings and open to any torture these people wanted to inflict.
He let out a sob, unable to feel shame over it anymore. He was only human, and so, so weak. He used to consider himself a rock, yet under the heat of torment, he turned out to be barely an imitation made of chocolate, and melted into a helpless lump of bleeding flesh. How could he have ever been conceited enough to think he had the balls to stand up to people like Apollo?