Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Which was a good thing, because Abel was quick to revert into Little mode with Madigan, who had only cleared his boy for a taste of interrogation play.
“Excellent.” Ryan stood up and nodded for Madigan to join us, and I waited while the latter decided what tool we could use. Ryan had brought a whole duffel bag o’ treats.
We had a dog cage too.
“I swear I don’t have the key,” Abel said forcefully.
“We might believe you, trouble,” Madigan answered. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have information, though.” He came over with a vampire glove—that he handed to me—and a spiked paddle.
I put on the glove and squeezed Abel’s jaw, settling my thumb and index finger nicely over his carotid arteries. The boy sucked in a breath, getting worked up before I’d even applied pressure. I wasn’t doing that without Madigan’s green light.
Ryan, Madigan, and I crowded Abel, and it was enough to get his breathing accelerated.
“I don’t know who has it,” he bit out.
“You’re gonna have to give us more than that.” Madigan dropped the paddle lower and gave Abel a hard thwack along his thigh.
“Ow! I don’t know, I don’t know! I don’t know anything!”
“Everyone knows something,” Ryan stated.
Madigan resumed his paddling, and Ryan and I gave him enough space to move freely. I stepped to the side, maintaining my hold on Abel’s neck, and the boy gnashed his teeth against the pain.
“You can do it, Abel,” Justin coached. “Just keep your mouth shut.”
“Not my strongest suit!” Abel groaned. “Motherf—ouch!”
“Not yet,” I heard Colt say quietly. I didn’t know what he and Jameson were talking about, but I hoped they stayed back a while longer. Angel was next to curse us out and encourage Abel to breathe through the pain, and we logged every response, every reaction.
“Fuck! I promise I don’t know anything!” Abel struggled against his tears, and Madigan nodded to me. So I applied just a bit of pressure, and the boy’s eyes flooded with fear. “I don’t know anything—I’m fucking telling you! Kit and Angel asked around, and everyone denied!”
Jackpot.
A clue, at least. Blurted out in the heat of the moment. I doubted it was fake.
“What did they ask?” Madigan pressed. “Word for word.”
Ryan and I exchanged a look, and then we backed off. Madigan could keep working on getting clues from Abel, and I was—
“Just scream when you’re in pain, Abel,” Kit urged. “Don’t use words. Just scream and shout!”
“Or insult them!” Angel chimed in.
I kept my smirk to myself and immediately went over to Tracy. The only brat who hadn’t spoken a word to Abel during his little moment in the spotlight.
At the same time, Jameson went over to Justin, and Colt went to Kit.
I used the same grip on Tracy that I’d used on Abel, and I got real close, so our noses almost touched.
“You know what I find interesting?” I whispered. “You didn’t coach your little buddy into staying quiet.”
He glared at me and said nothing.
“Would it make you feel bad, maybe?” I eased my fingers higher up so I could squeeze his jaw. The spikes that littered the surface of the glove dug into his skin. “Because you know what I think? I think you know something, and you don’t want Abel to suffer for knowledge you sit on.”
“You don’t know shit,” he whispered back.
Except, I did. He wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. Fear flickered in his eyes—fear and nervousness—despite that he put on a decent show. My boy was strong-willed and resistant.
I took a step back and slowly removed the glove.
He traced every movement and licked his lips, something I’d picked up as a nervous trait. He did it at work sometimes when he was overwhelmed.
Without a hint of a warning, I backhanded him across the face, and he cried out as his head whipped sideways.
“You have information that you’re gonna give me.” I grabbed him in another chokehold, sans glove, and used my free hand to cup his crotch.
He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes going wide, and he spluttered. “Fuck you—I don’t know anything!”
“Lies,” I growled. “Where’s the fucking key?”
He screwed his eyes shut and tried to shake his head.
Colt nudged me, and he nodded toward the firepit.
Got it.
I didn’t say anything to Tracy. I just left his side, and all the Tops reconvened by the fire.
We huddled close so the brats couldn’t hear.
“Angel and Abel don’t have any info,” Ryan said quietly.
“And I can’t push Abel any harder,” Madigan added. “I’m gonna call it and take him home in a few. He’s approaching his limit.”
I threw a glance over there, and sure enough, Abel was about to crack. He had tears rolling down his face, and he was trembling a lot.
It gave me an idea. “If you leave, we can tell the brats you’re gonna beat a confession out of him. Because Tracy is definitely on my short list of suspects, and I think he might crack if someone else suffers in his stead.”