Stealing Him Back by Roger Levitt

Author:Roger Levitt [Levitt, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

His head was absolutely pounding, his breath coming through his nose in short, unabated bursts in the freezing room. He groaned, creaking his eyes open to find himself once more on the concrete floor of Dean's barn, vision taking its sweet time adjusting to the surroundings. His teeth clenched around that damn rag tied in his mouth again, cringing as he vaguely remembered just what it'd been used to clean earlier.

He tried moving to sit himself up, stopped short with restraints around his wrists and ankles. He shut his eyes, lying his forehead on the ground and sniffling. He'd lost his chance. His one chance. The memory made his sight shoot back open, turning to look at his leg, coming alive with a throbbing pain all at once.

He whimpered at the swollen sight of it, blue and purple completely splotching over his left calf, trailing up through his veins to his knee. Across each side of his leg was a clear indentation from the trap's clamp, the arches still visible even after the night had passed. He tried shifting his legs, hissing at it protesting angrily against him. Greg winced, moving his left ankle in the slightest and sighing in relief. His leg wasn't broken, but it didn't take a goddamn doctor to figure out there was some nerve damage he was going to be suffering through.

"Bout fucking time you woke up," that voice broke through the air. Greg shot his head up, seeing Dean sitting against the wall with Lulu, staring at him angrily. Greg narrowed his eyes right back, trying to move away but his leg refusing to cooperate. Dean slowly got to his feet, grey never breaking from bruised green as he crept ever closer. "I was nice to you," he snapped.

Greg stared up at him, barely having the energy to think of arguing, regardless of his inability to speak. Dean kneeled down in front of him, grabbing his hair and yanking him up onto the sides of his legs, watching him scream in anguish as he pulled him up against him. He let his fingers fall flat against his hair, gently stroking through the curls. Greg mumbled his protests, trying weakly to back away before Dean's strong grip forced him to keep in place against his chest.

"You promised to stay," he reminded him flatly, sharply tugging on a curl. "You promised to behave, too," he frowned. "I don't like being lied to or disobeyed, Stanikowski," he said, Greg catching the dangerous edge in his voice and his breath hitching. He cringed as Dean lied his chin on his head, continuing to tousle his loose curls. "You could be so happy if you'd be good." Greg shook his head, whining as Dean pulled him in closer, a deep, hot breath rustling through his hair. He shivered at the fingers dropping and slowly tracing along the collar on his neck, feeling that damn chain keeping him to the pole weighing him down more than ever before.

"Some dogs learn through rewards," Dean started casually, smirking at Greg's jaw trembling against him.

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