Whatever those Iranian fucks had done to him was alive and well inside. He ground his teeth together in an effort to bring his mind back to the present. He’d have to work every day to suppress it, but after what happened when he went hunting the gang, he vowed to never give himself over to the hunger completely again.
“Yeah, well, thank you, LT,” Grady managed to say through the steady thrumming in his ears. His heart was pumping a mile a minute. He needed to calm down. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“If Jefferson can make a cure, that’s all I need.”
“If he’s as good as he says he is, then we should be okay. I gotta go. I just remembered something.”
“You sure I didn’t lose my dick, Harper?”
“I’m sure, kid,” Grady laughed. “You’re gonna be okay.”
He nodded to Sergeant Turner and left quickly. He practically stumbled down the hallway because his equilibrium seemed to be off. There was no way that this was sustainable. He needed that cure as much as anyone.
His hand fell on the doorknob to his apartment and he fell through the doors, startling Carla and Mandy, who sat on the couch playing a card game with David.
“Whoa, Grady!” Mandy exclaimed. “You look like—”
“I need you,” he hissed. “I need you now. Both of you.”
“Now?” Mandy asked, glancing at the boy, then back at him.
“Now,” he demanded, staggering toward the bedroom.
“Um… Okay,” Mandy replied. She turned to David and said, “We need to go help Mr. Grady with something, buddy. Alright?”
“But we’re in the middle of a game,” David protested.
“It’ll just be a little bit. Then we’ll get back to it.”
Grady heard the kid say something, but it was lost to him. He went into the bedroom and kicked off his boots, then tore his shirt away. The bloodlust was threatening to overtake him. He bent down, rummaging inside his backpack for the supplies he’d picked up yesterday. He had to do something to stop himself from giving in to it. This was the only thing he could think of.
The girls came into the room and shut the door quietly. “We’re here,” Mandy said from behind him.
He straightened and turned. Carla already had her shirt up over her head.
“No! Stop!” he hissed. “I told you girls that I wasn’t going to do that with you.” He gritted his teeth. “You’ve been through too much.”
“Uh…” Mandy seemed lost. “Then what are we doing?”
He held up the handcuffs he’d gotten from Phil, the ex-cop who was Jefferson’s bodyguard. “I need you to secure me to the bed.”
“Oh. And then you want us to fuck you?”
“No, dammit!” He tossed the handcuffs on the bed and sat down. “I just need you to do this. Secure me to the bed. There’s something… I have a… Just tie me to the goddamned bed and leave me here for a couple of hours.”
Mandy sauntered forward. “Whatever, it’s your kink.”
“It’s not a kink, Mandy.” He tried to convey his need for her to do this with his eyes. He couldn’t risk telling anyone that he was a walking killing machine, barely keeping his serial killer tendencies in check. “Please.”
“Yeah, okay, man.” She picked up the handcuffs and handed a pair to Carla. “Here ya go, babe.”
Grady laid back on the bed and allowed the girls to handcuff his arms wide to the length of chain that he’d run underneath the bed to connect the two sides. “Okay,” he said when they were done. Now leave me alone for a few hours.”
Mandy stood beside him, pushing her hip out. “You sure? You got this look in your eye that men get when they’re about to go crazy. We can help with a little release, big guy.” Her hand drifted onto his stomach, finger tracing one of the scars there.
“I’m good. Just…” A new sensation hit him. He became hyper-aware of her hand on his body. Was that it? Did the craziness stem from needing a release? Was his body reacting so dangerously because he hadn’t done anything? He squirmed away from Mandy’s fingers, trying to remember the last time he’d had sex or even masturbated. He couldn’t recall when that was. It had been… Hell, he didn’t even know.
One thing was certain, though. He wasn’t going to take advantage of these girls. They’d been through too much already.
“No. Please, Mandy. I’m good to go. I just need this right now.”
“Alright The offer still stands. You’re a sexy old guy. You can split the uprights on any given Sunday.”
Grady winced at her poor football analogy as the girls left the room, closing the door softly behind them. For the briefest of moments, he’s allowed himself to feel. The loss of sensation where Mandy lifted her hand away opened a well of emotions within him, emotions he didn’t remember that he possessed.
He allowed the pain of his loss to be free. Lucy, little Lucy Lou, his daughter was dead. He was sure of it. Her mother was an idiot, there was no way they made it to the safe zone at Fort Bliss. That little girl didn’t even get a shot at living.
Tears flowed down his cheeks. He’d been a shitty father, always gone, never there for her, watching her life through videos and photographs. He should have been there to protect her. But he wasn’t. He’d failed his daughter completely, both in life and in death. The Iranians and North Koreans had stolen everything from him. Everything.
The rage took him once more, replacing sorrow with anger. He didn’t resist. Grady let it flow, screaming his hatred of the people who’d done this to his world. He thrashed against the restraints, the chain banging loudly underneath the bed as he
