Broken Bones Page 3

  It would’ve taken but a touch, a word, and perhaps he would’ve been free of Keith long ago. Instead, he’d stayed away, refused his family’s summons, and weakened the tie. When Dan had taken the chance and called, he made certain it was while he was “running an errand” or “busy with something else,” so Jeremiah wasn’t given enough time to question. And who did that help? Him? Keith? No, it just allowed him to stay under Keith’s heel.

  Consequently, after a few hospital visits, hurried lies made to Shelly, and a few more contrived tales of the bumbling teacher for his coworkers and his students, Dan had finally learned two things. One, tell a lie with a little humor and people accept the garbage you’re spewing with ease. Two, escape Keith by renting an apartment far away from his usual haunts, packing his bags before he got home from work, and leaving work early. Surely Keith wouldn’t stalk him at work? He just had to get out.

  Dan’s mistake? Trying to hide the key to make it impossible for Keith to find it and then realizing he couldn’t find it either. He had become paranoid, worried that if he kept it with him, Keith would somehow know. He didn’t want to leave it at work because he wanted to be able to access it quickly and not need a custodian to open the school if he happened to leave it there. He also didn’t want it on him because Keith thought nothing of openly searching him. And look at him now. Losing his mind while he searched his home—no, Keith’s home.

  “Goddess, please help me. I know I haven’t talked to you in a while, but if you could find it in yourself to help me find this.” He prayed while he frantically tore through the home he and the man he’d once loved shared, a home that had become a prison, one built on fear and shame. He had been powerless here. And he was tired, tired of being afraid to breathe, of making another imagined mistake, an inane error only Keith knew. He had to get out. Dan decided to forget about the key, to get to the car and run.

  It was as he turned toward the door that he knew he had waited too long.

  The first slap came out of nowhere. A wickedly hard connect to his flesh, and Dan saw stars as his face recoiled from the blow. He felt a trickle of wetness. It wasn’t the first time Keith had burst his lip, the rings he wore making the soft skin split so easily. When he caught hold of Dan’s throat, squeezing, choking off his air, Dan thought this would be the day he died.

  “Looking for something, baby?” The grin was slow and terrifying. “You do realize I’m not a stupid man, Daniel. I watch you daily, watch the way you move because I love the way you move, that sweet ass riding my cock. I have to know everything about you. You’re mine, Daniel. Why wouldn’t I know your every movement, see where you’ve been going lately?” Keith’s words were loving and tender, belying the fact that he was methodically strangling Dan to death as the man he professed to love all but dangled from his fingers.

  “Ple… aa, ugh…. Keith… pl…,” Dan pleaded, his hands reaching for Keith’s as he squeezed tighter.

  The force of the next slap was as hard as the first. Dan’s nose made a crunching sound. Would this be the first time Keith had broken his nose? Keith usually avoided bruising his face, claiming he wanted Dan to look good while swallowing his cum, for others to see how pretty he was.

  “Now you beg, Daniel? Now you want me to hear you? When were you going to tell me about your little nest you were creating, little bird? After you had flown?” Keith’s purr was soft but deadly as he finally released Dan’s throat, slamming him back against the wall.

  Dan crumpled to the floor, tears leaking from his eyes, his breaths short. Gasping for air, he heard Keith opening his belt, the sound familiar and equally frightening.

  “Now, Daniel. You’ve been a bad, bad boy, trying to leave Daddy. This will require a little reminder. Turn over for me, baby. Take off those pants and let me see my ass, the ass I own just like I own you, Daniel.” The tone of tender love turned angry as he all but growled, “I own you, bitch, all of you. You will never fucking leave me.”

  He lashed Dan again and again. Dan tried to lift his body from the floor, knowing if he weren’t fast enough, the next hits would be to his midsection. He couldn’t, though. He could barely breathe, much less get himself in a position that would please Keith. The blows against his skin as he tried to get away were terrible.

  Dan screamed as Keith’s boot tip found the tender spot of his stomach. The kick was hard, his body nearly levitating from the force. He doubled over, trying to protect himself, his hand catching the impact of the next kick. Keith snapped his head back, nearly ripping his head from his shoulders, his fingers tearing into Dan’s curls, his viselike grip so unrelenting Dan could feel Keith’s heart pulse through the fingertips against his scalp.

  He shrieked, shattered as Keith drilled his knee into the middle of his spine, his lips wet against his ear, his words hot. “I know where you were planning to go, my love. I know everything about you. I don’t always have to be there.” He felt Keith’s tongue dip into his ear, wetly sponging the canal, and cried as sharp teeth tore into his lobe. “You will remember this, Daniel. You are mine. I will kill you before I let you go.” He slammed Dan against the floor, smacking his face hard. “You must try to remember, darling. I would hate to have you force me to teach this lesson again. So very sweet to me, your mind and energy such a pleasure.” Keith’s voice had taken on a calculated coldness, freezing Dan’s soul.

  Dan gulped in all the air he was able to take when Keith rose, thinking the nightmare was over, that he would clean himself up from this, make up another laughable lie, and try to leave his prison another day.

  As if Keith knew his thoughts, though, he forced Dan’s arms behind him, wrapping his hand around Dan’s wrists, trapping him. “No, Daniel. I said you would be disciplined. You think this is over, little one? You think I would see this and not pay you back for even considering you could be smart enough to get away from me?” He racked up Dan’s shirt, exposing his skin right before the working of the cool metal against his flesh bit into his side. “I could kill you with the same key you would use to leave me, Daniel.” Leaning against him, dick hard and settling in the crack of his ass, Keith continued. “This is the only key you will ever get to have alone, Daniel. The only one just for you. When I fuck you tonight, we’ll try to make sure you remember it.” He ground into Dan, his body hard against the slighter man.

  Keith stood, then went to the bed. It was elevated, and Dan needed a step stool to climb into it. Not Keith, though. Dan’s head lolled as he watched him prepare himself. Keith sat, drew down his pants and underwear, and took his dick in his hand. One hand held his cock, red and tall, thick and proud. He drew his fingers along it, rubbing the crown with his thumb, playing with the foreskin. The other he used to beckon Dan to him.

  “Crawl over here, Daniel.”

  He whimpered. His suffering was unbearable, and this psycho wanted him to crawl.

  “Get over here, bitch.” Keith’s growl rolled toward Dan.

  Dan’s heart pummeled his rib cage. He ached, and he couldn’t take another kick from Keith’s Ferrinis. It seemed like hours before he made it to Keith, losing more and more of himself with each painful shuffle, each move burrowing his dignity farther into the ground.

  CHAPTER 5

  WHEN DAN looked up at Shelly, there were tears in her eyes.

  “When you called me?” Her words were wet with tears.

  “He had already done it.” The humiliation, the pain, remembering the way Keith punished his body, punished him. He didn’t want to go back there, relive it again, but maybe if he gave it to her all at once, he wouldn’t have to repeat it, ever. He went on.

  After Dan had swallowed him, Keith ramming his dick against Dan’s teeth, the angry intruder challenging his tongue for space, Keith made sure he left a warning on Dan’s face, leaving his eye terribly swollen, so puffy he could barely see. Keith made sure when he took him finally, Dan wouldn’t easily forget the rape, the tearing, and the way Keith discarded him afterward.

  Dan would remember hi
s lesson. How could he not? Keith knew everything, so what could he do? Here he was, a grown man, and powerless to even leave his own home. Weak against a man whose parting words after he had used him and left him bleeding with welts from his leather belt on their bedroom floor were “I own you, Daniel. Consider that the next time you think to try to leave me. Your deposit is back in the bank where it belongs, and your things had better find their way back into our home.” Dan could still see him fastidiously fastening his clothes, cleaning his hands as he flicked away bits of blood from underneath his fingernails, and turning to check himself out in the mirror.

  He had straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt, and said calmly, “You’ll heal this time. Next time, you might not be as lucky.” Keith then walked out, never looking back.

  Dan had heard the door shut and the sound of Keith’s car as he drove away. With no one else to call, especially not his family, he had dialed Shelly.

  “SHELLY.” DAN’S words were heavy, wounded. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m keeping something from you.” His eyes darted to her tear-stained face briefly and returned to the sheet again. “The truth is, I am. I feel like I should be more than this. I’m afraid all the time. I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want my family to know.” He groaned. “Speaking of my family…. You told them. Shelly, what if….”

  Dan paused as the door opened, and a tiny nurse in Tweety Bird scrubs popped in. She gave him a hesitant smile, did a vitals check, and tweaked the IV.

  Dan looked back to Shelly, apprehensive of how to pose his question without giving too much away about his family or Keith. The world was such a small place, Louisville even smaller, and he couldn’t trust there wouldn’t be ears listening with purpose.

  But Shelly had no such recriminations. “What if what, Dan? What if one of us is finally able to step in to help you before Keith kills you?” Tears rolled down Shelly’s cheeks, her lashes glistening. “I know what this is about. You don’t want to fail them. You’re always trying to be perfect. The perfect teacher, the perfect son, brother, bestest friend ever,” she said with a small smile and a caress along his shoulder. “Newsflash, Dan. No one is perfect. All we want is for you to be happy, and to be happy, you have to get away from that asswipe. No one’s questioning how strong you are.” Another touch. “Baby, we’re just trying to keep you alive. Keep you here. What’s wrong with that? Is it too much to ask for help, to let us know what’s happening? If your body turns up missing, it might be helpful if we at least know where to dig.”

  And there was Shelly, keeping it real. He could say she was wrong, but this was obviously more than Dan could handle. He had all the proof he needed tonight. He could have fucking died, and while the people who knew them as a couple would have felt sorrow for a grieving Keith, no one would have known him for the monster he truly was.

  “What if they get involved, Shelly? Then….” Dan’s voice wavered. Tired. It could have been something in the bag making him feel a little goofy, his head floating like a balloon. It could just be the residual effects of his traumatic experience, one that left him not just visiting the hospital this time but actually staying overnight. Yes, it was time to take a different approach. He had tried it alone. Maybe now wasn’t such a bad time to bring in reinforcements. He would give that more thought when he woke up.

  HE WAS sleeping, right? Dreaming, maybe? And yet, sleep should involve rest, provide a greatly desired respite. But no, he felt as if he were drifting—no, being pulled to one of his darkest places, one where he didn’t want to be but felt helpless to avoid.

  Keith was there… touching him, loving him, but this was a Keith vastly at odds with the one he had known, the monster. This was the one with whom he fell in love. He held him sweetly, laughed with him, kissed his eyelids, and then he… changed. This Keith morphed into something other, a dark being, his face molten obsidian, sharp talon-like claws that should have been manicured nails attached to hands capable of horrific brutality. Those claws, those talons carved into Dan’s arms, shredding skin from bone. Dan was screaming, a terrible, heartrending cry as he fought to get away, but he wasn’t strong enough. The harder he struggled, the more viselike Keith’s hold became. Nothing but a toy, Keith’s plaything, nothing more. Keith loomed over him, his lips against his ear, lips that once sang to him, told him of the beauty of his eyes, lips that loved every part of his body passionately were now gnarled and emitted indecipherable grunts and groans. Within those animalistic sounds, though, Dan recognized the promise of misery, of discipline for whatever imagined wrong Dan had committed.

  The beast dipped its tongue into his ear, slick and moist, longer, enormous, and forked. An acidic substance laced its papillae leaving behind its fiery touch wherever it lay. Wicked claws moved down, down, down to his cock, traced it with a long hook, branding him. He didn’t have to know the words of the language rumbled to know the creature said “Mine.” It would take him again, rend him in two this time.

  Dan’s screams echoed in his mind, his soul writhing in terror. A dream, yes, but he still ached from Keith’s earlier attack. Whether real or imagined, either would be too much, and sanity could not win out against this battle. The creature hurled him against a granite surface. It splayed his arms, strained them beyond his normal reach and edged closer, its gaze intent on its purpose. Wet droplets splashed against his lashes, fell from the tongue as it reached its poisonous dart toward him.

  He screamed. He pleaded. He begged….

  And suddenly, there was peace.

  It was gone, and in its absence a haven. Held again, but this time by arms that provided sanctuary rather than agony. A coolness enveloped his body, healing the abrasions at his ear, at his neck, at his cheeks, at every small place that was licked and scalded by the demon’s tongue. Gentle kisses from tender lips dried his tears.

  He wasn’t drifting anymore, scared. He was relieved. This was good, felt right, and he wanted more. He curled into those powerful arms that shielded him. They held him, offering refuge and assurance. Dan lifted his hands to touch, to slide his fingers along ones that caressed him. No longer suffering. In these arms, he felt love. He was home.

  A SONG played, one he recognized, his guilty pleasure he often shared with his students. He even had a T-shirt, one that a few of them had teased him about mercilessly. His lips curved into a smile as he remembered the ribbing he had gotten for his Perry the Platypus tee.

  Had minutes passed? Hours? Darkness surrounded him, the glow from the television screen casting spasms of light across the room. He could tell Phineas and Ferb was on, and they were at it again, off creating another incredible invention, Candace not far behind. He could almost make it out if he squinted, but the resulting throb wasn’t worth it. He felt better, though, cleaner.

  “You know. I am not a kid,” he whispered. He knew they were there, his family. He knew they ringed him, a fortress of flesh united in their goal to defend their pup.

  Conner flanked his father, along with Kristoff, Jeremiah’s beta. While Kristoff did not acknowledge his presence, Dan knew he missed nothing. Dark mirrored Oakleys covered eyes Dan had never seen and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Jeremiah often gave Kristoff the responsibility of Dan’s care, and no one who did not have the Alpha’s best interest at heart would be gifted with the duty to guard his human child. No, Dan’s mother no longer lived, cancer having taken her years ago, but as long as Dan remained, Jeremiah had a piece of the woman he loved beyond life itself. He would keep Dan safe always. Kristoff? The embodiment of his father’s arm of safety, always at his back, never far away.

  To Jeremiah, Dan was his son just as much as Conner. Unlike the stalwart beta, Jeremiah and Conner each looked at Dan with love in their eyes, their eyes a mirror reflection of each other while his own were reminiscent of someone better left in the past. For his part, Dan looked like his biological father, Sarai Tolliver’s first husband, a man who could almost be Keith’s twin in charisma and violent temperament. Matthew Curry was a religious man onl
y to the society he sought to impress, a hypocrite that claimed men loving each other was the ultimate sin and, for him, the ultimate embarrassment to a hardworking father. Matthew Curry never worked hard a day in his life. He kept his family close to his breast, ready to use them as a body shield if he ever felt threatened, ready to punish them for slights he imagined from the community. He ignored the tenets that told him to take care of his own family. His faith didn’t force him to provide for them, to forsake the women he paraded before their eyes.

  Dark and swarthy, Matthew was Creole. While Dan had inherited none of his build, he had been gifted with his dark coloring, his emerald eyes, and his grace. His father was magic on a dance floor. Agile, he flexed and bent and gyrated himself into Sarai Boderick’s life. He moved like mercury: he could bounce, spin, and flow with ease. It was his dance, his dexterity, Dan shared, and the way he moved had caught Keith’s eye, snared him, and made Dan a prisoner long ago. A child will marry his parent. It was a saying he had heard many times while growing up. No, not an incestuous deal like Oedipus or weirdness like that, but marry someone like the person they had known who took care of them, nurtured them. Unfortunately, his psyche decided to let him play the fool and imprint on the asshole in his life, thereby attracting other assholes rather than a man who would love him as Jeremiah loved Sarai.

  Sarai Curry had seen her son nearly strangled at the hands of his father when one of the church parishioners had decided to do his Christian duty and inform Matthew of Dan’s perverted waywardness with one of the boys behind the bleachers of his school stadium. For Dan it was the best moment of his life… an innocent kiss earned after a shy smile or two. He found out later it was a girl in class who had told her father, and her father had told his. He would have died at the hand of his own sperm donor that night if his mother hadn’t heard his screams and probably killed the man to get him away. The fucker had been the cause of every blow to Sarai’s already brittle self-esteem, both by salacious word and action.