Fic: Red Petals [5/10]
Fic: Red Petals [5/10]
Previous: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think this show was created just for me, but alas, still not mine. Definitely for the best, in this case.
Rating/warnings: NC-17. Sex pollen and sex slaves, dub-con and non-con (though mostly off screen), plus violence, cursing, lots of nudity, and forced druggings.
Pairings: (In order of apperance, not necessarily importance) James/Camille, Mercedes/Kendall, Kendall/Jo, Kendall/James, Mercedes/Kendall/James, James/Logan.
Notes: As always, enormous thanks to lielabell and her terrifying red pen of doom.
Summary: Kendall and his crew are supposed to be on a rescue mission, searching for someone on a black market planet. But he's the one who ends up needing to be rescued...
Five.
Jo met Mercedes at the brothel for her guard duty that evening, after catching a few uneasy hours of sleep. The previous night had left her queasy, and she wasn't exactly eager to head back to work, especially not when she saw Mercedes dolled up for the night's party. It wasn't going to be a blow out like the previous night's, but every night was a party at the Red Petal brothel.
"Oh, good, you're here," Mercedes greeted her. "Just in time for our new friend's second dose."
Jo bit back a grimace. She'd never seen Mercedes really use the serum before; most of the Red Petals' workers just used petal dust. Only Rebecca's test case had been dosed with serum, and he'd already been mindwiped before they'd arrived. She'd never seen it in action before, and the thought of watching Knight lose his mind made her a little ill. Her stomach twisted. "You don't need me for that, do you?"
"I do, actually, since you barely secured him at all last night." Mercedes paused to give her a dark look.
"His wrists were tied," Jo said. "And there's no way out from in there, nothing he can use as a weapon, so..."
"Yeah, but he wasn't exactly tied down, was he? So now I need you to go do that, because Captain Courageous will have sobered up and he'll be pissed off and if he's not tied down, that's going to make dosing him difficult. So."
"Oh." Jo swallowed another wave of guilt. "Just seemed like, the state he was in, it would have been cruel to keep him from jerking off."
"Aww. The mercenary has a heart." Mercedes smirked a little. "You like him so much, you can have him for awhile after he's dosed."
Jo's skin crawled at the idea. Covering for her discomfort, she said, "I don't see how you even knew he wasn't working for the Diamond Syndicate in the first place."
"Rebecca. She told me anyone working for the Diamonds was bad news. I guess they have some kind of deal with Civ, I don't know."
"You really trust Rebecca that much?" Jo asked. She didn't know anything about Rebecca, but sincerely doubted any of Mercedes' business partners were all that trustworthy. "You don't think it's worth finding out a little more?"
"Well." Mercedes paused, hand on the door to Knight's room. "Tell you what. While you're enjoying yourself, you might as well pump him for info, since he won't remember anything in a few days anyway. Just let me dose him, and trust me, he'll tell you anything you want."
They reached his room before Jo could object. Mercedes pushed the door open.
Inside, Knight lay on his stomach on the bed, his towel tossed over his waist and his hands tucked up under the threadbare pillow beneath his head. Jo frowned, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Something was just slightly off, but she couldn't tell what.
Mercedes sing-songed, "Wakey-wakey."
Knight groaned, turned his head a little, and mumbled, "I don' wanna go to school today, Mom."
"You really are a mama's boy, aren't you?" Jo asked, still frowning. The line was too ridiculous; Knight must have been awake before they walked in. So why was he so carefully pretending to be asleep?
He peeled his eyes open. "Damn, I was hoping this was a nightmare."
"No such luck," Mercedes said. "Jo, tie him down."
Jo moved cautiously, frowning. She didn't like what Mercedes was doing, but that didn't change the fact that Knight was potentially dangerous. He went tense as she approached him, stock still, but that seemed wrong, too. The man she'd seen the previous night was a fighter, not someone who'd just give up and do as he was told. Suspicious, Jo reached for a weapon with one hand.
"Lift your head," she ordered him. "I need your hands."
"Yeah," he said. "Sure."
He shifted, just a little. She reached forward to grab the pillow off his hands --
-- and he threw himself down and to the side, tackling her, his wrists free and the rope laying frayed on the bed. Jo pulled her gun as she fell, but she took the brunt of the landing for both of them and it knocked her wind out. Knight grabbed a gun from her shoulder holster before she could recover, scrambled off of her and rolled up on to his knees. He braced the weapon with both hands, pointed it directly at her.
"Whatever the hell you did to me yesterday, it's not happening again," he said, his voice shaking. "Drop it, Jo."
She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a good read on him. He'd sobered up, but there was a tiny tremble in his arms -- that was why he'd braced the weapon with both. Probably it was just nerves, or maybe it was the last traces of the drug. He had a direct shot at her, and she was flat on her back, gun in one hand, pointing roughly towards him. It wouldn't be a clean shot, and she'd only have one chance. If she missed, he'd shoot back, and his shot was perfectly clean. Then again, there was no way he'd expect her to do anything. Not from her position.
So she slid her finger onto the trigger and pulled.
It grazed his shoulder. He shouted for a split second before forcing his jaw shut, gun arm dropping even as he kept the weapon clenched in his hand. She took the moment to roll out of his immediate range and jump to her feet. She pulled a second gun and pointed them both at him.
"Bitch," he panted, his other hand coming up to cover the wound.
"Drop it." She gestured at his gun arm. It didn't matter how bad she felt for him; as long as he had a gun, he was a threat. Her other emotions shut off, and her world faded to targets and trajectories.
Knight hesitated.
Jo kept her gaze fixed on him as she said to Mercedes, "If I put a bullet in his shoulder, he'll have to drop it. It won't kill him, but he'll definitely go into shock, either from the pain or the blood loss."
"Well, if he's going to be this difficult, you might as well put it between his eyes," Mercedes said, arms crossed in a huff.
"Your call, Knight. You want to live or die?"
He stared her down for another second. Then, very slowly, put the gun down and slid it towards her.
"Good choice," Mercedes said.
Jo inwardly agreed, some of the adrenaline high starting to fade. She would have killed him if it came down to it -- but she really didn't want to. She liked that he was a fighter.
"Tie him up," Mercedes instructed. "So he can't get out, this time."
Jo ignored the sarcasm, holstered one of the weapons, and reached for the rope that had fallen off his wrists. It seemed to be in tact, but a few spots were badly frayed. She was willing to bet he'd used his teeth, desperate to get it off any way he could. He'd hidden that he was untied by keeping his hands under his pillow for as long as he could, and he'd waited for her to get close so he could get his hands on a weapon. That actually wasn't a terrible plan, under the circumstances.
The rope was still good enough to hold. She yanked his arms behind him, and he winced, gasping in agony. And if she tied his wrists tighter than strictly necessary, that had less to do with Mercedes' sarcasm than her wounded pride. He never should have been able to get loose in the first place.
She stood up and Mercedes stepped forward. Knight was already a little pale from blood loss, but he went sheet white when he saw Mercedes had her needle prepped.
"Ohhh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," he mumbled, and tried to duck away when Mercedes approached him. She rolled her eyes and Jo grabbed his non-wounded shoulder. He actually turned his head, burying it Jo's arm for a moment, and she felt another surge of guilt. She wasn't really much of a nurturer, but even so she found herself stroking his cheek gently, offering the kindest gesture she could, and she couldn't watch as Mercedes pressed the needle to his arm.
Mercedes straightened up and turned to her. "Question him, fuck him, kill him if you have to. I don't care. Just don't let him escape. That would be very bad for business."
She strode out, slamming the door behind her.
Jo looked down at Knight, who stared back up at her, eyes already going a little wide. "Option B, please," he whispered.
--
Kendall could feel the drug hit his system. His body went hot, his skin felt too tight, and he was overcome by desperation. It was ridiculous how fast it hit him, and oh god, oh god, he was kneeling there naked with his hands behind his back. He couldn't touch himself or hide what was going on.
He swallowed, telling himself firmly to just get a fucking grip. For a few moments, it even worked. He heaved a few breaths and tried to shift his wrists into a more comfortable spot, but all that did was irritate his shoulder. Blood still dripped down his arm. He winced, but the spike of agony helped clear his mind.
Jo stared down at him. He met her gaze, not sure if he wanted to curse at her or beg her to just fucking touch him already and get it over with. Before he could do either, she turned and walked out, leaving him there.
Somehow, that was worse. Alone, bleeding, aching with need, almost trembling with fury... He had to find a way out. He had to. Logan and Carlos were still out there, probably waiting for him, looking for him, and if they got caught, too... and James was so close, and...
Jo returned. Kendall had no idea how long she'd been gone, but she had a first aid kit tucked under her arm and a pair of cuffs dangling from her hand. She crouched in front of him and said, "Good arm or bad arm?"
"Huh?" He blinked. She was so close, and she smelled really nice, and god, she was pretty --
"Knight. God damn it." She held up the pair of handcuffs directly in front of him. "Which hand?"
He still wasn't sure he understood the question, but said, "Bad arm," and she nodded. She snapped the cuff on, digging into his skin right above the rope, then snapped the empty cuff to the bedframe. Then she untied him.
"Thanks," he wheezed, rocking back so he was sitting instead of kneeling, grateful for the change of positions -- grateful because now he had one hand free to --
Jo grabbed his free wrist and snapped, "Not yet, Jesus." She opened the first aid kit and added, "This is probably going to hurt."
It did. She used cotton balls and something that stung like hell to clean his arm. "Is it bad?" he managed, the pain, again, clearing his head a little. At least it gave him something other than his all-consuming lust to concentrate on.
"No," she said. "Barely nicked. The bleeding'll stop with a little pressure. Mostly it's just burned. Let me put something on it to help that, okay?"
He nodded. Like he had a choice either way, but still. While his mind was still clear enough to manage it, he added, "Thanks. Not that I see a point. Shoot me, patch me up, then... what? Torture me for answers?"
She rubbed something onto his arm that felt really nice, cooling, and god damn, just the physical contact made him whimper. He tried to remember the way the antiseptic stung instead, the way the whole thing still throbbed.
"Trust me, if I want answers, you'll answer me," she said.
He swallowed hard. He would, too, wouldn't he? Right now, he'd do anything... but... He had to get out --
She started wrapping gauze around his arm. He managed, "What happened to my crew?"
"How should I know?" She didn't look up from her work.
"My crew," he repeated. "Rebecca told Mercedes to kill them, are they, have, have you heard anything?" He took her hand with his free hand, stilling her. "Please, before I -- before I can't think --"
"I haven't heard anything," Jo said. She took his hand, and he heard himself groan. He was so hard his dick ached more than his arm, and he desperately wanted, needed... He whimpered when she used another cottonball to dabb his hand to clean off the blood from when he'd grabbed his wound. It felt good, though, gentle but firm and his skin tingled and -- wait, she was talking. Shit. "Besides, Rebecca told her to kill you, too."
"Huh?"
She shot him an amused look. "If you're going to ask me questions, pay attention, would you?" She let go of his hand and went back to wrapping the gauze. "I said, I haven't heard anything, so probably nothing happened. If Mercedes found them, she'd probably have me deal with them like I did with you. Mercedes thinks you're useful, remember?"
Yeah, and it was obvious what Mercedes wanted to use him for. But something about Jo's voice made it clear how she felt about that idea. About the same way Kendall did. He felt an irrational surge of hope before the drug pulled him back, left him unable to concentrate on anything except how he needed, needed, fucking needed to get off --
He reached over to the gauze with his good hand and pressed it to his arm. That set it throbbing again and he could think, for a few fleeting seconds. That was worth the pain. "You think they're okay?"
"Probably."
"What about, about my friend?"
"What friend?" Now done with doctoring him, Jo sat on the floor next to him. Not touching him, thank god. If she touched him, he doubted any amount of pain would be enough to keep him from losing control utterly.
"I was looking for... Rebecca said he was close, but... have you seen him?"
"Seen. Who?"
He shook his head. Either she hadn't, or he wasn't making sense. He honestly couldn't tell. All that meant was he had to get out. He had to do it before Mercedes shot him up again, before Jo actually shot him again. He had to get a warning to Carlos and Logan... he had to find James...
His head was swimming and his skin felt prickly. It would be so easy, so so so fucking easy to just grab himself. It would be relief, he needed relief, needed to get off and get this feeling out of his body --
But it wouldn't work. This time he actually pinched his arm, right where it was burned from the bullet grazing him. He managed a deep breath. The previous day, with Mercedes, getting off had done him no goddamn good. She'd laughed at him, called him eager, kissed him, and every time he'd come he was rock fucking hard again in moments. It was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him, and he'd hated every goddamn second of it, even as he'd begged her --
He pinched himself again. Swallowed. If he gave in, even for a few seconds, he'd lose it utterly. He'd take the pain over that. Thank god he'd been shot.
"So what are you going to do to me?" he whispered to Jo, voice hoarse.
"Umm... nothing?" She shrugged.
Nothing?
Okay, so she'd shot him, but she hadn't shot to kill. He was pretty sure she could have. She'd answered his questions about the guys, maybe even honestly. She worked for Mercedes, but she didn't seem to like Mercedes. And she had to know that if she so much as breathed on him, he'd do whatever she wanted. But she wasn't doing anything.
There was no way he could trust her, but what did he have to lose?
Except --
He pinched his arm again and cursed furiously under his breath. Jo raised her eyebrows. "You want something to numb that?"
He shook his head quickly. "Ache, um, the ache helps me think."
She shrugged and didn't say anything. So he tried to think. He had to be careful. His last attempt had been desperate. He had to come up with something better. He had to find a way to get someone on his side, and Jo... He had no idea just how far Jo might be willing to go for him. She obviously didn't like Mercedes, and she seemed to like him, but...
Then, like a miracle, he remembered what she'd said before Mercedes had doped him the first time. Before Rebecca had even shown up. She'd said something about paying her to switch sides. She probably hadn't really meant it, and he hadn't had the money anyway. But hell, he didn't need to have the money. If Jo was really willing to flip on Mercedes, then Civ would pay her. They'd pay her a half million to bring him into custody, to be precise.
He looked over at her, and froze. This only worked if she helped him, it only worked if he could keep control of himself, and it only worked if he didn't get caught. No one had come rushing in when he'd managed to get the knots off, but maybe Mercedes had underestimated him. She wouldn't again, Kendall was sure. He had to assume someone was watching him all the time.
So...
He pressed his thumb directly to the bullet wound and all but screamed in pain. Jo turned towards him, concerned, and he leaned forward, towards her. He brought his free hand up to cup the back of her head and kissed her --
Whoa, that was way too fucking good --
His arm hurt like a bitch. She started to push him away but he kept a grip in her braid, somehow, and leaned further in so he could whisper in her ear: "I can pay. Any cameras on us?"
Jo's eyes darted around, and she murmured back, "Yes. Are you..." She leaned in and breathed against his ear. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious." He shifted so he was facing towards her, and fuck, he really was desperate. She was just millimeters from him, and maybe if she just touched him for a second --
She grabbed his wounded arm roughly and sent a jolt of pain through him. God, she was brilliant. It would look to anyone watching she was taking him, but she kept her fingers pressed to his wound as she kissed him, and he kept his body under control. Barely.
Though yeah, he really, really, really liked kissing her. Maybe someday, after he escaped --
He had to escape first.
"I'm wanted," he mumbled in her ear, snaking his free hand around her waist to pull her close. It was a dangerous move, he knew, and oh god his body did not want to obey his brain, but again, pressure to the bullet wound brought him right back.
"How much?"
"Half a mil. Civ tender," he gasped, as she pushed him down so he was sitting, back flush to the bed. She straddled his thighs and he whimpered, terrified it would be too much, but when she kissed him this time she bit his lip. Not playfully, either. He tasted blood.
"Why should I believe you?" she breathed against him.
"You think... you think I can lie right now?" he panted, then, "Oh, god, fuck, Jo -- Jo --"
She squeezed his arm and he almost screamed against her mouth. "Concentrate," she snapped. "Tell me everything."
"My friend. I was looking for my friend," he managed, dragging a hand down her back, then letting it rest on her hip. It was close enough to grab her weapon but he wasn't stupid enough to try that again. "Rebecca had him, I, I, I've been chasing them for months and she brought him here. She said I was close... fuck, you can probably get a reward for him."
She pinned his shoulders to the bedframe and crashed their hips together. He whimpered, trying to get just a tiny bit of friction, but she all but yanked his arm to keep his attention focused. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he gulped. "I don't know, I don't know how long I can keep this up... oh god. Oh -- fuck!" She flicked his wound, sharp and hard. "Diamond. That's why I said -- why I said I was working for -- he's Brooke Diamond's son. She'll do anything to get him back. Pay anything. Swear to god."
"Diamond," she repeated. "Jesus. Maybe you are telling the truth."
"Help me find him," he begged. "He's here somewhere, she had him, I know he's here. The reward for him, and -- the bounty on me is -- oh, god please, fuck, please..."
She twisted his arm again, but it didn't even matter. It was too much, she was too close, and he kept saying please even when the pain wasn't enough. He wasn't sure if he was begging her to help, begging her to stop, or begging her for more.
But she said, "I'll think about it," and stood up. She left again and -- fuck -- he didn't know if it was enough, but it was all he could do. With no one there to help him, no one there to distract him, he gave in, finally put a hand on his own body, and let go.
Chapter Six
Previous: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think this show was created just for me, but alas, still not mine. Definitely for the best, in this case.
Rating/warnings: NC-17. Sex pollen and sex slaves, dub-con and non-con (though mostly off screen), plus violence, cursing, lots of nudity, and forced druggings.
Pairings: (In order of apperance, not necessarily importance) James/Camille, Mercedes/Kendall, Kendall/Jo, Kendall/James, Mercedes/Kendall/James, James/Logan.
Notes: As always, enormous thanks to lielabell and her terrifying red pen of doom.
Summary: Kendall and his crew are supposed to be on a rescue mission, searching for someone on a black market planet. But he's the one who ends up needing to be rescued...
Five.
Jo met Mercedes at the brothel for her guard duty that evening, after catching a few uneasy hours of sleep. The previous night had left her queasy, and she wasn't exactly eager to head back to work, especially not when she saw Mercedes dolled up for the night's party. It wasn't going to be a blow out like the previous night's, but every night was a party at the Red Petal brothel.
"Oh, good, you're here," Mercedes greeted her. "Just in time for our new friend's second dose."
Jo bit back a grimace. She'd never seen Mercedes really use the serum before; most of the Red Petals' workers just used petal dust. Only Rebecca's test case had been dosed with serum, and he'd already been mindwiped before they'd arrived. She'd never seen it in action before, and the thought of watching Knight lose his mind made her a little ill. Her stomach twisted. "You don't need me for that, do you?"
"I do, actually, since you barely secured him at all last night." Mercedes paused to give her a dark look.
"His wrists were tied," Jo said. "And there's no way out from in there, nothing he can use as a weapon, so..."
"Yeah, but he wasn't exactly tied down, was he? So now I need you to go do that, because Captain Courageous will have sobered up and he'll be pissed off and if he's not tied down, that's going to make dosing him difficult. So."
"Oh." Jo swallowed another wave of guilt. "Just seemed like, the state he was in, it would have been cruel to keep him from jerking off."
"Aww. The mercenary has a heart." Mercedes smirked a little. "You like him so much, you can have him for awhile after he's dosed."
Jo's skin crawled at the idea. Covering for her discomfort, she said, "I don't see how you even knew he wasn't working for the Diamond Syndicate in the first place."
"Rebecca. She told me anyone working for the Diamonds was bad news. I guess they have some kind of deal with Civ, I don't know."
"You really trust Rebecca that much?" Jo asked. She didn't know anything about Rebecca, but sincerely doubted any of Mercedes' business partners were all that trustworthy. "You don't think it's worth finding out a little more?"
"Well." Mercedes paused, hand on the door to Knight's room. "Tell you what. While you're enjoying yourself, you might as well pump him for info, since he won't remember anything in a few days anyway. Just let me dose him, and trust me, he'll tell you anything you want."
They reached his room before Jo could object. Mercedes pushed the door open.
Inside, Knight lay on his stomach on the bed, his towel tossed over his waist and his hands tucked up under the threadbare pillow beneath his head. Jo frowned, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Something was just slightly off, but she couldn't tell what.
Mercedes sing-songed, "Wakey-wakey."
Knight groaned, turned his head a little, and mumbled, "I don' wanna go to school today, Mom."
"You really are a mama's boy, aren't you?" Jo asked, still frowning. The line was too ridiculous; Knight must have been awake before they walked in. So why was he so carefully pretending to be asleep?
He peeled his eyes open. "Damn, I was hoping this was a nightmare."
"No such luck," Mercedes said. "Jo, tie him down."
Jo moved cautiously, frowning. She didn't like what Mercedes was doing, but that didn't change the fact that Knight was potentially dangerous. He went tense as she approached him, stock still, but that seemed wrong, too. The man she'd seen the previous night was a fighter, not someone who'd just give up and do as he was told. Suspicious, Jo reached for a weapon with one hand.
"Lift your head," she ordered him. "I need your hands."
"Yeah," he said. "Sure."
He shifted, just a little. She reached forward to grab the pillow off his hands --
-- and he threw himself down and to the side, tackling her, his wrists free and the rope laying frayed on the bed. Jo pulled her gun as she fell, but she took the brunt of the landing for both of them and it knocked her wind out. Knight grabbed a gun from her shoulder holster before she could recover, scrambled off of her and rolled up on to his knees. He braced the weapon with both hands, pointed it directly at her.
"Whatever the hell you did to me yesterday, it's not happening again," he said, his voice shaking. "Drop it, Jo."
She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a good read on him. He'd sobered up, but there was a tiny tremble in his arms -- that was why he'd braced the weapon with both. Probably it was just nerves, or maybe it was the last traces of the drug. He had a direct shot at her, and she was flat on her back, gun in one hand, pointing roughly towards him. It wouldn't be a clean shot, and she'd only have one chance. If she missed, he'd shoot back, and his shot was perfectly clean. Then again, there was no way he'd expect her to do anything. Not from her position.
So she slid her finger onto the trigger and pulled.
It grazed his shoulder. He shouted for a split second before forcing his jaw shut, gun arm dropping even as he kept the weapon clenched in his hand. She took the moment to roll out of his immediate range and jump to her feet. She pulled a second gun and pointed them both at him.
"Bitch," he panted, his other hand coming up to cover the wound.
"Drop it." She gestured at his gun arm. It didn't matter how bad she felt for him; as long as he had a gun, he was a threat. Her other emotions shut off, and her world faded to targets and trajectories.
Knight hesitated.
Jo kept her gaze fixed on him as she said to Mercedes, "If I put a bullet in his shoulder, he'll have to drop it. It won't kill him, but he'll definitely go into shock, either from the pain or the blood loss."
"Well, if he's going to be this difficult, you might as well put it between his eyes," Mercedes said, arms crossed in a huff.
"Your call, Knight. You want to live or die?"
He stared her down for another second. Then, very slowly, put the gun down and slid it towards her.
"Good choice," Mercedes said.
Jo inwardly agreed, some of the adrenaline high starting to fade. She would have killed him if it came down to it -- but she really didn't want to. She liked that he was a fighter.
"Tie him up," Mercedes instructed. "So he can't get out, this time."
Jo ignored the sarcasm, holstered one of the weapons, and reached for the rope that had fallen off his wrists. It seemed to be in tact, but a few spots were badly frayed. She was willing to bet he'd used his teeth, desperate to get it off any way he could. He'd hidden that he was untied by keeping his hands under his pillow for as long as he could, and he'd waited for her to get close so he could get his hands on a weapon. That actually wasn't a terrible plan, under the circumstances.
The rope was still good enough to hold. She yanked his arms behind him, and he winced, gasping in agony. And if she tied his wrists tighter than strictly necessary, that had less to do with Mercedes' sarcasm than her wounded pride. He never should have been able to get loose in the first place.
She stood up and Mercedes stepped forward. Knight was already a little pale from blood loss, but he went sheet white when he saw Mercedes had her needle prepped.
"Ohhh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," he mumbled, and tried to duck away when Mercedes approached him. She rolled her eyes and Jo grabbed his non-wounded shoulder. He actually turned his head, burying it Jo's arm for a moment, and she felt another surge of guilt. She wasn't really much of a nurturer, but even so she found herself stroking his cheek gently, offering the kindest gesture she could, and she couldn't watch as Mercedes pressed the needle to his arm.
Mercedes straightened up and turned to her. "Question him, fuck him, kill him if you have to. I don't care. Just don't let him escape. That would be very bad for business."
She strode out, slamming the door behind her.
Jo looked down at Knight, who stared back up at her, eyes already going a little wide. "Option B, please," he whispered.
--
Kendall could feel the drug hit his system. His body went hot, his skin felt too tight, and he was overcome by desperation. It was ridiculous how fast it hit him, and oh god, oh god, he was kneeling there naked with his hands behind his back. He couldn't touch himself or hide what was going on.
He swallowed, telling himself firmly to just get a fucking grip. For a few moments, it even worked. He heaved a few breaths and tried to shift his wrists into a more comfortable spot, but all that did was irritate his shoulder. Blood still dripped down his arm. He winced, but the spike of agony helped clear his mind.
Jo stared down at him. He met her gaze, not sure if he wanted to curse at her or beg her to just fucking touch him already and get it over with. Before he could do either, she turned and walked out, leaving him there.
Somehow, that was worse. Alone, bleeding, aching with need, almost trembling with fury... He had to find a way out. He had to. Logan and Carlos were still out there, probably waiting for him, looking for him, and if they got caught, too... and James was so close, and...
Jo returned. Kendall had no idea how long she'd been gone, but she had a first aid kit tucked under her arm and a pair of cuffs dangling from her hand. She crouched in front of him and said, "Good arm or bad arm?"
"Huh?" He blinked. She was so close, and she smelled really nice, and god, she was pretty --
"Knight. God damn it." She held up the pair of handcuffs directly in front of him. "Which hand?"
He still wasn't sure he understood the question, but said, "Bad arm," and she nodded. She snapped the cuff on, digging into his skin right above the rope, then snapped the empty cuff to the bedframe. Then she untied him.
"Thanks," he wheezed, rocking back so he was sitting instead of kneeling, grateful for the change of positions -- grateful because now he had one hand free to --
Jo grabbed his free wrist and snapped, "Not yet, Jesus." She opened the first aid kit and added, "This is probably going to hurt."
It did. She used cotton balls and something that stung like hell to clean his arm. "Is it bad?" he managed, the pain, again, clearing his head a little. At least it gave him something other than his all-consuming lust to concentrate on.
"No," she said. "Barely nicked. The bleeding'll stop with a little pressure. Mostly it's just burned. Let me put something on it to help that, okay?"
He nodded. Like he had a choice either way, but still. While his mind was still clear enough to manage it, he added, "Thanks. Not that I see a point. Shoot me, patch me up, then... what? Torture me for answers?"
She rubbed something onto his arm that felt really nice, cooling, and god damn, just the physical contact made him whimper. He tried to remember the way the antiseptic stung instead, the way the whole thing still throbbed.
"Trust me, if I want answers, you'll answer me," she said.
He swallowed hard. He would, too, wouldn't he? Right now, he'd do anything... but... He had to get out --
She started wrapping gauze around his arm. He managed, "What happened to my crew?"
"How should I know?" She didn't look up from her work.
"My crew," he repeated. "Rebecca told Mercedes to kill them, are they, have, have you heard anything?" He took her hand with his free hand, stilling her. "Please, before I -- before I can't think --"
"I haven't heard anything," Jo said. She took his hand, and he heard himself groan. He was so hard his dick ached more than his arm, and he desperately wanted, needed... He whimpered when she used another cottonball to dabb his hand to clean off the blood from when he'd grabbed his wound. It felt good, though, gentle but firm and his skin tingled and -- wait, she was talking. Shit. "Besides, Rebecca told her to kill you, too."
"Huh?"
She shot him an amused look. "If you're going to ask me questions, pay attention, would you?" She let go of his hand and went back to wrapping the gauze. "I said, I haven't heard anything, so probably nothing happened. If Mercedes found them, she'd probably have me deal with them like I did with you. Mercedes thinks you're useful, remember?"
Yeah, and it was obvious what Mercedes wanted to use him for. But something about Jo's voice made it clear how she felt about that idea. About the same way Kendall did. He felt an irrational surge of hope before the drug pulled him back, left him unable to concentrate on anything except how he needed, needed, fucking needed to get off --
He reached over to the gauze with his good hand and pressed it to his arm. That set it throbbing again and he could think, for a few fleeting seconds. That was worth the pain. "You think they're okay?"
"Probably."
"What about, about my friend?"
"What friend?" Now done with doctoring him, Jo sat on the floor next to him. Not touching him, thank god. If she touched him, he doubted any amount of pain would be enough to keep him from losing control utterly.
"I was looking for... Rebecca said he was close, but... have you seen him?"
"Seen. Who?"
He shook his head. Either she hadn't, or he wasn't making sense. He honestly couldn't tell. All that meant was he had to get out. He had to do it before Mercedes shot him up again, before Jo actually shot him again. He had to get a warning to Carlos and Logan... he had to find James...
His head was swimming and his skin felt prickly. It would be so easy, so so so fucking easy to just grab himself. It would be relief, he needed relief, needed to get off and get this feeling out of his body --
But it wouldn't work. This time he actually pinched his arm, right where it was burned from the bullet grazing him. He managed a deep breath. The previous day, with Mercedes, getting off had done him no goddamn good. She'd laughed at him, called him eager, kissed him, and every time he'd come he was rock fucking hard again in moments. It was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him, and he'd hated every goddamn second of it, even as he'd begged her --
He pinched himself again. Swallowed. If he gave in, even for a few seconds, he'd lose it utterly. He'd take the pain over that. Thank god he'd been shot.
"So what are you going to do to me?" he whispered to Jo, voice hoarse.
"Umm... nothing?" She shrugged.
Nothing?
Okay, so she'd shot him, but she hadn't shot to kill. He was pretty sure she could have. She'd answered his questions about the guys, maybe even honestly. She worked for Mercedes, but she didn't seem to like Mercedes. And she had to know that if she so much as breathed on him, he'd do whatever she wanted. But she wasn't doing anything.
There was no way he could trust her, but what did he have to lose?
Except --
He pinched his arm again and cursed furiously under his breath. Jo raised her eyebrows. "You want something to numb that?"
He shook his head quickly. "Ache, um, the ache helps me think."
She shrugged and didn't say anything. So he tried to think. He had to be careful. His last attempt had been desperate. He had to come up with something better. He had to find a way to get someone on his side, and Jo... He had no idea just how far Jo might be willing to go for him. She obviously didn't like Mercedes, and she seemed to like him, but...
Then, like a miracle, he remembered what she'd said before Mercedes had doped him the first time. Before Rebecca had even shown up. She'd said something about paying her to switch sides. She probably hadn't really meant it, and he hadn't had the money anyway. But hell, he didn't need to have the money. If Jo was really willing to flip on Mercedes, then Civ would pay her. They'd pay her a half million to bring him into custody, to be precise.
He looked over at her, and froze. This only worked if she helped him, it only worked if he could keep control of himself, and it only worked if he didn't get caught. No one had come rushing in when he'd managed to get the knots off, but maybe Mercedes had underestimated him. She wouldn't again, Kendall was sure. He had to assume someone was watching him all the time.
So...
He pressed his thumb directly to the bullet wound and all but screamed in pain. Jo turned towards him, concerned, and he leaned forward, towards her. He brought his free hand up to cup the back of her head and kissed her --
Whoa, that was way too fucking good --
His arm hurt like a bitch. She started to push him away but he kept a grip in her braid, somehow, and leaned further in so he could whisper in her ear: "I can pay. Any cameras on us?"
Jo's eyes darted around, and she murmured back, "Yes. Are you..." She leaned in and breathed against his ear. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious." He shifted so he was facing towards her, and fuck, he really was desperate. She was just millimeters from him, and maybe if she just touched him for a second --
She grabbed his wounded arm roughly and sent a jolt of pain through him. God, she was brilliant. It would look to anyone watching she was taking him, but she kept her fingers pressed to his wound as she kissed him, and he kept his body under control. Barely.
Though yeah, he really, really, really liked kissing her. Maybe someday, after he escaped --
He had to escape first.
"I'm wanted," he mumbled in her ear, snaking his free hand around her waist to pull her close. It was a dangerous move, he knew, and oh god his body did not want to obey his brain, but again, pressure to the bullet wound brought him right back.
"How much?"
"Half a mil. Civ tender," he gasped, as she pushed him down so he was sitting, back flush to the bed. She straddled his thighs and he whimpered, terrified it would be too much, but when she kissed him this time she bit his lip. Not playfully, either. He tasted blood.
"Why should I believe you?" she breathed against him.
"You think... you think I can lie right now?" he panted, then, "Oh, god, fuck, Jo -- Jo --"
She squeezed his arm and he almost screamed against her mouth. "Concentrate," she snapped. "Tell me everything."
"My friend. I was looking for my friend," he managed, dragging a hand down her back, then letting it rest on her hip. It was close enough to grab her weapon but he wasn't stupid enough to try that again. "Rebecca had him, I, I, I've been chasing them for months and she brought him here. She said I was close... fuck, you can probably get a reward for him."
She pinned his shoulders to the bedframe and crashed their hips together. He whimpered, trying to get just a tiny bit of friction, but she all but yanked his arm to keep his attention focused. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he gulped. "I don't know, I don't know how long I can keep this up... oh god. Oh -- fuck!" She flicked his wound, sharp and hard. "Diamond. That's why I said -- why I said I was working for -- he's Brooke Diamond's son. She'll do anything to get him back. Pay anything. Swear to god."
"Diamond," she repeated. "Jesus. Maybe you are telling the truth."
"Help me find him," he begged. "He's here somewhere, she had him, I know he's here. The reward for him, and -- the bounty on me is -- oh, god please, fuck, please..."
She twisted his arm again, but it didn't even matter. It was too much, she was too close, and he kept saying please even when the pain wasn't enough. He wasn't sure if he was begging her to help, begging her to stop, or begging her for more.
But she said, "I'll think about it," and stood up. She left again and -- fuck -- he didn't know if it was enough, but it was all he could do. With no one there to help him, no one there to distract him, he gave in, finally put a hand on his own body, and let go.
Chapter Six