The Flesh Cartel #1: Capture Read Online Free PDF Page B

pain. He’d never felt such awful muscle cramps in his life, not even when Darryl had pushed him an extra ten miles in 90-degree heat in a fucking sweat suit. And Jesus, he had to piss. He realized the van had stopped moving, pried his eyes open, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Dougie’s head lay just inches from his, face slack and stained with tears and cum, lips swollen, eyes as glassy as a doll’s. He wasn’t blinking. If he saw Mat at all, he didn’t acknowledge it.
    Mat tried to say something, call his name, tell him to hang on. But he was a fucking coward, couldn’t do it—couldn’t face the possibility that Dougie wouldn’t answer him. Couldn’t answer him.
    He was breathing, at least. There’s always hope as long as you’re still breathing, Darryl liked to say.
    Mat clung to that like the chain-link of the ring after a too-hard knock to the head.
    “Thank fucking God that’s over.”
    “Are you kidding me? We just spent ten hours enjoying a six-figure piece of ass, and you’re happy it’s over?”
    “Carsick.”
    “Up you get, hole. Time to meet your maker.”
    Oh, that last one wasn’t spoken among themselves. A hand fisted Dougie’s cum-streaked hair and yanked him upright, but none of his limbs seemed to respond. His body dangled by the hair, his eyes rolling back. Please let him be passed out , Mat thought, because it was surely better than being awake for whatever was coming next.
    Someone was fiddling with the lock on Mat’s cage.
    “No,” another said. “Leave the brother here until we can get a hobble and a muzzle on him. I’m not embarrassing myself by getting my ass kicked in front of the curators, are you?”
    “He’s been in that fucking cage for ten hours. You think he’s in any position to kick anybody’s ass? Probably won’t even be able to stand.”
    “You willing to bet on that? I heard about a guy in District Six, his catch kicked him in the nuts and got loose in the warehouse, had to be put down, so they put down the guy too, replaced him with somebody smarter. They like shit orderly here. Plenty of guys slavering over your job . . . well, maybe not the job so much as the perks.”
    At that, he spanked Dougie hard on one ass cheek, making him cry out.
    “Fine. Let’s do it your way. Not like I care if the hole spends another three days in that fucking cage. I’m kinda disappointed the ten hours wasn’t long enough to see him piss or shit himself.”
    Not for lack of need. He had to piss so bad his back teeth were floating, but no fucking way was he gonna do that in front of these fuckers.
    “You’re fucking sick. I don’t want to smell that shit.”
    “Literally.”
    They laughed. Hoisted Dougie to his feet, although it took two of them to keep him standing.
    From his vantage point, Mat could see the shiny flakes of dried cum on Dougie’s inner thighs, the slightly pinkish hue it had at the very top, where it disappeared between his ass cheeks.
    They were right to keep Mat in the cage. He didn’t care if his legs were asleep, he’d learn to fly if it meant he could kill these fuckers.
    One by one, the men hopped out of the van. The one remaining inside passed Dougie down to them. No resistance, no struggle. Dougie didn’t so much as flinch, despite the rough handling. He still seemed a million miles away, and as much as that’d terrified Mat before, he was starting to be grateful for it now. Maybe, wherever he was, he wasn’t feeling any pain.
    But then they pulled him away from the van, and suddenly he was a flurry of violence, bound hands jerking, legs kicking, body bucking like a beached fish as he screamed and screamed Mat’s name.
    “It’s all right, Dougie!” Mat shouted, closing his eyes against the terror in his brother’s voice, the thud of a fist hitting flesh, the sheer fucking helplessness of it all. “It’s all right! I’ll be right behind you, okay?” Another thud. Two more. A short sharp scream, and then silence. “Do what