Topaz froze as her past came crashing into her. A mix of sounds, smells and words melding together in one fucked up not again, dear God I can’t go through it again moment.
“Help us settle a bet,” the man bold enough to confront them because his bestie had a gun to Onyx’s head said. “When you get out of a car does the oil pressure drop? I mean you’re so damn dark, I wondered if you were going to tell me you were a Nigerian prince dropping off this lady’s investment.”
The last two men yanked on Onyx’s arms, but he stayed stone still like a statue, his head the only connection between them. Should she tell Onyx to let them take him? That she’d run inside and have a dozen men chasing them down in less than a minute? Would he even have a minute? Her fingers grasped his shirt and clung to him as a lifeboat to rescue them both. Why hadn’t she told him how much he made her heart swoon? That his face was in her dreams, not nightmares, but dreams. Hopes for the future. The life she lost once before, but could have again, if only they hadn’t come out here to fight. All— because she wanted to be the one dancing on him. The one turning him on and being taken in the back to fuck until they were both exhausted.
“I’m gonna say this nicely,” Onyx said. “Back—the fuck—off.”
Topaz could see the fear in his eyes, but it didn’t make it to his voice. Did the man have a block in place or was it the faking it shit, Hollywood used to talk about? Stressful, scary situations happen, but you have to wait until they are over before you react. The moment breaking down won’t make it go quicker or better. Onyx was scared, but if he panicked both of them would be screwed. Right now, all she could see were his eyes losing their light and her being covered in his blood. What was the alternative?
“I’m sure you’re used to what’s about to happen,” the mouthpiece said.
Onyx’s arms were then yanked, this time by more than one man forcing him to be compliant and cuffing his wrists together.
“We’re not in your dungeon pervert, no reason to be so tight with the cuffs. We both know how you like it, Daddy,” Onyx spat when the final click of the cuffs caused his face to wince. His eyes, dark pools were telling her to stay. He’d take the blunt of what was about to happen.
But she didn’t have the option to run. Go for help and save him. Her arms were twisted behind her as she was pinned to the wall. The man taking a few liberties with an unnecessary pat down.
“Hey, she may be built like a twelve year old boy,” Onyx said, continuing his goading of the men. “But you’re not gonna like it when you get around to the front. Sorry boys, without a strap on, she’s not going to be able to fuck you in the ass like you—”
A loud thwack silenced Onyx as his head fell forward and the men had to catch him and drag him to the van. The soles of his booted feet were facing her in the saddest way imaginable.
With a tug of her arm, Topaz was pulled from the wall. A harsh scrape of her skin to the brick before she was thrown inside the van next to Onyx. A gag placed over his mouth and she saw his eyes fluttering in his struggle to stay at least somewhat conscious. Salt from the terry cloth washcloth stuffed in her mouth stirred her belly, sending bile up her throat with no relief as a band was wrapped around her head.
Topaz wasn’t sure what the hell happened, just that they were in trouble. She inched closer to Onyx, wishing her arms weren’t behind her back and she could cradle his head on her lap. Anything to care for the man still fighting, more for her then him, until they’d knocked him out.
The world had slowed— to her, an hour had passed in the few minutes it took to grab them both. No chance of Manny coming out with a bag of trash, not because he was swamped. No, her fear me attitude lately had him moving away from her like a set of magnets turned around. A sharp sting and rush of cold hit her in the neck and she turned to see a needle being plunged, the liquid inside vanishing in a rush as the blackness took over before she appreciated what hit her.
6
Onyx struggled to open his eyes. He couldn’t figure out where the hell he was. Making a mental checklist, he worked on a damage assessment. Wiggling his foot bending his knees, one real, one a piss poor Xerox copy. That tracked. Hips, cock and belly all sore, but not in we had some fun holding that girl up on a wall and keeping the abs working out type of way. More like someone used his stomach to wipe their shoes. Ribs, irritated, but not screaming in pain when he breathed. Head, miserable and pounding. Did he party a little too much last night? It felt like a really bad one for sure. His brain wasn’t functioning, losing bits and pieces. Only catching flashes of bright yellow from hair? Or light? Was it the strobe at the bar? No matter the cause of his pain, it didn’t feel right.
He heard a moaning coming from someone right beside him. A female cried out, “Onyx, come on, open your eyes.”
The air around him was stale. Like dust and wood. Definitely not in an alley behind the bar or in the clubhouse. Why was he thinking about the alley?
He recognized the voice. He’d heard it before, but who was it? What the hell happened to him? Shifting to bring his hand
