The Man Who Killed Me by Lyn Brittan

Author:Lyn Brittan [Brittan, Lyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Interracial, Historical, gothic, antebellum, interracial historical, vampire, historical paranormal, modern gothic, Paranormal
Publisher: Gryy Brown Press
Published: 2014-06-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

He'd been forced to piss himself.

Braxton had stopped squirming long ago. If he stayed still long enough, he could almost ignore the discomfort. A bit of totally unfucking necessary discomfort. Braxton was sure of himself, but without a gun he could have been untied and still totally under the bastard's control.

When his request to relieve himself had been answered with a “go right ahead, but I'm not freeing your hands,” he knew it had been done for the sole purpose of humiliation.

Sebastian had unbuttoned Braxton's pants, unzipped his fly and laid his penis against his thigh. That he had a man touching his cock more than concerned him, but nothing about Sebastian said sexual predator. Just psychotic.

He'd held off as long as he could, but finally lost the battle of will and let go. Having been properly put in his place, he supposed, Sebastian first shot him a look of superiority, then contempt and ignored him for the next few hours.

Braxton's legs ached from being bound. One had gone numb a couple of hours ago. Deep vein thrombosis, perhaps? Or would he have already been dead? Maybe he was dying. His vision had started to blur, but that could have been due to the lack of food, water or Oney.

He prayed for the billionth time that she wouldn't come looking for him.

To his left, a squirrel scrambled underneath a stack of leaves that had blown in through the window. Or maybe the roof. It disappeared from view.

“Uh oh.” It was the first thing Sebastian had said since the sun came up.

Braxton opened his mouth to ask just what the hell the man was talking about, when he heard three things in rapid succession: more rustling leaves, a rodent squeal and a second animal noise from something bigger and meaner.

Braxton's eye flickered toward Sebastian who simply shrugged. “There's an old saying in pre-Tokugawa, Japan— during the Warring States Era. 'The strong eat the weak and the weak become meat.' I rather think that applies. Don't you? You’re going to die soon, too.”

Bile rose at the bottom of his esophagus. He begged it to stay there. An embarrassment of necessity was one thing, but he wasn’t sure he could take the dual humiliation of walking around with a coating of vomit over his piss.

His chosen profession demanded an impassionate response to most things. Not now. He needed to get mad. Fury could be more powerful than fear. “I make love to her every night. Me. Not you. You think forcing yourself on her would ever make her forget how much—”

He didn't see the punch coming and certainly didn't have time to prepare for it.

“Force her? And you think I'm the sick puppy? She's my sister, for fuck's sake.”

Sebastian said more. Was saying more still. Braxton could hear him vaguely ranting in the background. His own mind stopped processing Sebastian’s words after 'sister.' What the hell? He played back everything that he'd heard and seen since he and Stuart left for this job.

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