'Stop.' Mal's voice rings out in the air, and his throaty tone makes my stomach lurch. Now what? 'Maybe you're right,' he continues. 'We want her wide awake for when you guys show her a good time, right?'
Wrong. 'You want us to fuck her now?' My voice is devoid of all emotion. I don't want to give the bastard a thing.
'Yes, but I want to make sure you two don't enjoy yourselves too much.' He smiles cruelly, which leaves me to believe I'm not going to like what comes next.
'I think I want a little appetiser first. You and Gabriel; go fuck each other up. Let's see who's the last one standing.' He looks at me and waits. Mal would like nothing better than for me to come roaring at him with both fists blazing, but I do no such thing. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.
'Is the broken nose and massacred back not fucked up enough for you?' I enquire sweetly.
Mal shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. For some reason I notice he's wearing suit pants. He's trying his best to be an upmarket thug, though the material and cut of the suit is cheap. These are things I'm trained to spot. Oh, the joys of being raised a snob. If Mal notices me checking him out, he doesn't react. I suspect he's got more important things on his mind.
'Actually, no. Besides, there's method behind my madness. First, I want to see how you operate under pressure, and secondly I want to see if you can 'andle yourself. You're of no use to me if you can't hold your own in a fight.'
I snort. 'No one can hold themselves against Gabriel, but you'll figure that out in a minute. Get the body bag ready.' Standing up, I throw the whip back down on the bed, and try to ignore the sound of Harper's sobs. Less than a day ago the sound of her cries turned me on, but right now they make me sick to my stomach, especially as I'm the one who's caused them.
Facing Gabriel, I get ready to take a pounding. He's faster, stronger, and far more agile than I am. Add to that a decent background in martial arts, and the battle was already won, even before someone took a chunk out of my back and smacked me in the nose. I know why Mal is doing this, and it's not for the reasons he's just stated. He wants to check that Harper really is as impervious as she appears to be. If I'm lying on the floor bleeding out, there's a chance she might crack. It's possible I'm wrong, but I doubt it.
Gabriel is now standing in front of me, hesitating. He knows I'm likely to go down quick, and he also knows if he lays me out cold, he's on his own. That's his problem. I'm kind of looking forward to taking a nap.
When he stands there motionless for a few more seconds, I decide to give him some helpful words of encouragement. 'Come on, big guy. Hit me. I know you can.' Those fucking abs are staring at me, framed by his black pyjama bottoms. My gaze is drawn to them helplessly. I've worshipped his body more times than I care to count, and I have to confess I miss it a little. The man is a god in bed, there are no two ways about it.
Gabriel rolls his eyes at me, but he puts his fists up in front of his chest and adopts his fighting stance. While it's clear he doesn't want to do this, he's going to. Whether it's to save my hide or his own is anybody's guess. At the moment I don't care. I just need him to get on with it.
The first punch that swings my way misses, and for that I can be grateful. Gabriel's hand almost flies into the wall due to the power behind it, but he recovers just in time. He's good like that. I've yet to see anyone get the better of him in a fistfight. But when the second punch comes my way I'm not so lucky. This one connects with a shattering crunch into my jaw. My teeth snap together and my eyes water. Pain splinters up the bone and congregates in my head, giving me a motherfucker of a headache, and we've barely even started. I have a feeling that when this is finished it's going to take someone days to scrape what's left of me up off the floor.
'Come on 'Arper, sit up and enjoy the show.' My head swings round at Mal's voice. He's unlocking her cuffs so he can prop her up and make her watch. Just as I suspected, his motivation isn't quite what it seems to be. As my head turns back to check for the fist that is almost certain to be heading my way, I find it's already hurtling towards my left eye. Gabriel is on a mission to show Mal who's boss around these parts. Jerking my head backwards to try and avoid some of the blow, his knuckles connect just below my eye socket and have me stumbling backwards. Before I have a chance to recover I feel the heel of his foot crunch into my upper right thigh, and I stagger backwards, nearly dropping to my knees. I don't think he realises how powerful his feet are. The man is a killing machine and he has the cold-blooded temperament to match. Will he kill me? Is this what we've come to?
Gabriel delivers another series of kicks and punches, all with his uninjured right leg, which are carefully timed to make sure they do the maximum amount of damage. My body is exploding in pain and I can barely think, let alone move, but I somehow manage to push my head forward and use all the anger bubbling up inside me to hit Gabriel square in the chest. If he is going to kill me, I want to get one in before I send a cheery wave to the man upstairs, or downstairs, because these days I'm not entirely sure where I'm headed.
I manage to hit the bastard, but only because he's not expecting me to retaliate. He probably figured he'd done enough damage to keep me down for a while, and to be fair, there is nowhere I'd rather be right now than gasping for breath on the floor, but I need to stay conscious for Harper. I cannot leave her alone with this pair. They'll annihilate her.
'Stop, I've seen enough,' Mal rasps. 'Brandt, you fight like a fucking girl. Your mate, on the other hand, might be of some use to me. Let's hope you're better at other things.' His derisive comment rips through me because I know what's coming next. He wants us to tag team Harper - and mess her up bad. I almost wish Gabriel had knocked me out.
He claps his hands. 'Right, time for you two to get naked. Let's get the main course over with. This time show me what you're made of Brandt because if you can't fuck worth a damn, after we've finished I'll cut it off and stick it on Harper's forehead as a memento. You feel me?'
Chapter Three - Brandt
'Let's see what you've got, pretty boys.' Mal is very careful to make sure his gaze stays on us from the waist upwards, but I don't think he'll be so careful in a few minutes' time. By the looks of the guy he's strictly heterosexual, but looks can be deceiving. I learnt that the hard way.
'Are we allowed to do anything we want?' Gabriel has to get that out there, and I want to strangle him. It's about time he learnt to control that temper of his.
'Yes; that's kind of the object of the exercise,' Mal says, talking back to him as if he's three years old. Gabriel's back stiffens. Serves him right.
We then both stand there like lemons, wondering what to do next. There's four guns trained on us, so it's not a particularly romantic setting, and the last thing I feel like doing is getting my shit on, but beggars can't be choosers. When Mal raises his eyebrows, we know our time is up.
'Which end do you want?' Gabriel asks me. It's like we're discussing a side of beef. How the hell am I supposed to get my head around this?