16. Brody

The hotel room is far nicer than where we've been staying these last four months. Scotty looks fucking delicious sprawled out across the king-size bed. As much as I want to devour him whole, we need the room in pristine condition for what's about to happen.

The senator will arrive in less than thirty minutes, so we really need to set this thing in motion. As Fee changes into her negligee in the bathroom, Kincaid's got Tatum on his lap, tickling his sides. Considering the twink is stone-cold sober, he glares at his captor the entire time, his body stiff and unwelcoming.

"I really wish you'd stop fucking treating me like a baby. Honest to God, I don't know why you think I enjoy this, Abi, but I don't."

Kincaid leans closer and nips Tatum's chin with his teeth. "That's not what you said last night."

"Yes," Tatum says with a huff, "well, you drugged me into a dissociative state, so I don't doubt that. You know I can't control my actions when my blood is flooded with those horse tranquilizers you force into me."

"It's literally just Benadryl and a few herbs to help you relax." Kincaid licks his lips. "That's not the only thing I wanna force into you, my love."

The loud crack that fills the room when Tatum slaps Kincaid is deafening. "Don't fucking gaslight me by saying you're simply pumping me full of diphenhydramine. I have terrible seasonal allergies. I know what fucking Benadryl feels like. And keep your cock away from me. I'm not fucking you. Ever. End of discussion."

Kincaid gives him a quick peck on the lips. "We'll see."

Before Tatum can unleash more sass on my best friend, the bathroom door opens, and Fee pops her head through the gap. "I need your help." She's staring at Tatum, who's struggling to free himself from Kincaid's grip. Another slap to the face is all it takes for Kincaid to let him off, but once Tatum is standing again, Kincaid slaps his ass, making him squeak.

"I've asked you not to do that!" Tatum shouts with a scowl. He makes his way to the bathroom, glaring at Fee. "You need to keep your boyfriend under control. He's a goddamn animal."

She waggles her eyebrows. "Don't I know it."

Tatum pauses in the center of the room, looking over his shoulder at Kincaid. He clears his throat, and I don't miss the way a blush spreads furiously across his face. "Abi?"

"Yes, Pretty Baby?"

A smile quirks in the corner of Tatum's mouth. "Just . . . try not to enjoy fucking him."

Kincaid doesn't even try to hold back his smile. "Are you jealous?"

"Fuck off," Tatum says.

Kincaid"s smirk fades, and a look of worry washes over him. "If you don"t want me to do this, I won"t. I don"t want to hurt you."

Tatum quickly shakes his head. "It"s fine. I"ll do whatever it takes for Scotty." He looks away, forcing a look of stoicism that doesn"t seem very genuine. "Besides, I don"t care who you fuck. You mean nothing to me."

Kincaid approaches slowly, like he"s worried Tatum might startle and run off. When he reaches the twink, Kincaid cups his cheek. "I promise I won"t enjoy it. You"re my world, Tatum."

"Shut up."

"I love you," Kincaid says again, smirking. "Once this is over, I won"t sleep with anyone else. We"ll make things exclusive."

"We most certainly will not." Tatum turns to me and glares. "Cover your eyes."

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Cover your eyes, you psycho stalker."

I open my mouth to object, but Kincaid gives me a stern glare. Sighing, I shield my eyes, but I leave a small slit between my fingers to peek through. Once he"s sure I can"t see, Tatum leans forward and rests his head on Kincaid"s chest.

"Say it again," he whispers.

Kincaid feathers his fingers through Tatum"s hair, and he"s practically beaming. I"ve never seen him this happy. "I love you, Pretty Baby." He turns his gaze to Fee. "You have your bag of toys with you, correct?"

She cocks an eyebrow. "Yeah. Why?"

He gives Tatum a decisive nod. "Get the strap-on. I'm not sleeping with anyone else." He leans closer. "Never again, Tatum. I promise."

Tatum's bratty expression turns to one of bewilderment, and then of appreciation. He takes a step toward Kincaid and stares up, offering him a quick kiss on the chin, looking like a love-drunk teenager. "Hope you die," he whispers, his voice filled with affection. "Hope it hurts." He clears his throat and pulls away from the embrace. Turning, he heads across the room. When he makes it to the bathroom door, he pauses, eyeing Fee up and down. "You look like a dime-store floozy. Seriously, who wears maroon lipstick in this day and age? God. You'd be helpless without me. Get in there and wipe that shit off your face. We should have enough time to redo it before he gets here." Without looking back, Tatum snaps his fingers repeatedly. "Brody? I require coffee. Chop-chop."

Fee beams at him, reaching forward and pinching his cheek. "There's my cheeky boy. Let's do this."

Tatum heads inside, cussing and fussing at Fee for the unrequested endearment. Honestly, I think their whole setup is a bit strange, even by our standards. Tatum's basically a brat ninety percent of the time, but Fee and Kincaid fawn all over him like he's the bee's knees. When Kincaid isn't slapping his ass or risking kisses on the man's cheeks, he's following Fee around like her little lapdog. Tatum might pretend like he hates the pair of them, but it's clear as day he low-key worships the ground Fee walks on. I even overheard him telling Scotty she was "iconic" once. He wasn't drugged, either, which made the entire exchange all the more confusing.

Kincaid excuses himself and follows them into the bathroom, leaving me alone with Freakshow. He sits up on the bed and follows me to the suite's sofa, plopping down on my lap.

"You don't need to be here for this," I say, kissing his forehead. "It's not going to be pretty."

He shakes his head. "I do. I need to see it. For Momma." My boy is trying to put on a brave face, but it just pisses me off, because I don't like seeing him so scared right now. Fear doesn't belong anywhere near him anymore. He's mine, and I protect what's mine. "Does it make me a bad person to say I want it to hurt?"

I cup his cheek. "Nothing could ever make you a bad person, Freakshow. You're a good boy."

He nods. "Yeah, I know. I just . . . I've still got all of this anger at him." He touches his hand to his heart. "It's like someone set me on fire from the inside. I hate him, Brody. I hate what he did to me, and that my mom is dead because of him." He looks up at me with watery eyes. "Please make it hurt. Do it for me. I'll do whatever you want. Just make it hurt."

I nod, because anything Scotty wants, he gets. If he wanted me to saw off his father's head as he watched, I'd do it in a heartbeat. "It'll be agonizing. I swear."

He leans closer, pressing his forehead against mine. "We don't have to leave Washington when he's dead, do we? We can still stay at the motel with Barb and Tatum?"

I nod. "We're not going anywhere until you want to. We can stay there forever if that's what you want." I open my mouth around his, sliding my tongue inside, needing to remind him he's mine. I think I hear an "I love you," but his words are a little muffled with my tongue shoved down his throat.

Pulling away, I smile at my boy, squeezing his hand. "I'm going to marry you one day, Scotty," I say, my voice so low only he and God can hear. "And when I propose, I'll slit your fucking throat if you say no."

Tears flood his eyes, and he sniffles, his voice cracking when he says, "Promises, promises, Daddy."

Senator Levinson arrives right on time. I've got Scotty on my lap in the closet. Tatum's been sent downstairs to keep an eye out, making sure none of the bigot's cronies come looking. I hear Fee open the door and invite him in. The senator wastes no time, and the next thing I know, the sound of wet mouths slapping together fills the room.

I'm not sure how long it goes on before he's moaning and groaning, but I've spared Scotty the sound of hearing his father's depraved moans by holding my hands over his ears and softly kissing his neck.

Then it happens.

"What—what is . . . what's that?"

"Hush now, my prince. Your princess has a surprise for you."

He makes a gargled groan, and I'm assuming she's now sitting on his face. I let go of my boy's ears and smile down at him, my phone screen lighting each of us up for the other to see.

"Love you," I mouth.

"Love you too," he mouths back.

I tap his ears. "Keep them covered."

"Oh, God," the senator moans.

I slip out of the closet, angling my phone at the bed. Sure enough, Kincaid's wearing a strap-on, dragging the toy cock pressed aginstScotty's father's asshole, and he's teasing the man by dragging it across his entrance.

"Tell me that's not a cock," the senator says, his words muffled against Fee. "Please, tell me you haven't got a queer back there trying to breed me."

Fee's got her panties off, rolling her hips as she fucks herself on his tongue. I have to give Levindouche credit; he's not an unattractive man. Having produced Scotty, I don't suppose he could be. Still, I hadn't planned on getting a semi just by seeing his naked form. The tight abs, his long, thick cock. Honestly, if it wasn't for Scotty, I'd probably give it a little tug; but now, with Scotty in my life, I never want to stray. He's all I'll ever need. And, yeah, things might be a little weird from time to time—I mean, we still have to play our little murder game when I get uncomfortable with the sting of internalized homophobia—but I'm getting there. I'm doing my best to be what he needs, because that's what he deserves. He tells me time and time again that labels don't matter, but it matters to me. I'm not comfortable calling myself bisexual or gay, because neither of those describe my headspace. Right now, Scotty is the only soul I see. Fuck it. I'm Scotty-sexual. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.

I film Levinson, doing my best to keep Fee and Kincaid's faces out of the frame. The senator still has his blindfold on, and the longer Kincaid teases his hole, the more depraved Levinson gets. He's practically pushing back against Kincaid's strap-on, trying to get it inside.

"Is that what you like, my prince? Does someone want a nice, thick cock up their ass?"

"I'm not a faggot," he whimpers. That fucking word does something to me. It isn't his to say. It's one thing when Scotty uses it with me. I mean, he's the one who has to risk being called it on a daily basis. This motherfucker has no right to say it. No right to even think it. I'm trying to keep my composure, but Fee loses hers. She rears back her hand and slaps him across the face with her full strength.

"Don't say that word." She glares down at him, and I can tell it's taking everything in her not to strangle the life out of him. She draws in a deep breath, quickly adding, "My prince," in an attempt to smooth things over. "Now. Tell me you want it. Tell me you want Daddy's cock."

Kincaid rolls his hips forward an inch or two, and judging by the soft gasp escaping him, the toy must have breached Levinson's rim.

"Please," the senator whimpers. "Please, fuck me."

Fee smiles at me and gives me a nod. "Tell Daddy what you want him to do to you."

"Want him to take me," he says, his voice so low I can barely hear it. "Want him to fuck me. To breed me. Baptize me in cum."

"Someone's a naughty boy," she taunts, tapping his forehead. "His name is Daddy, by the way. Why don't you ask him directly."

Levinson bites his bottom lip and nods. "D-Daddy?" he stutters.

I worry for a second that if Kincaid speaks, it might snap the senator out of the moment. When Fee seduced Scotty's father online, she'd made no mention of other men being involved. She just sent him kitty shot after kitty shot until he begged her to meet him at a hotel in Seattle. She hadn't mentioned any roleplay involving men. His willingness to submit comes as such a surprise to me. He's the nation's biggest opponent of gay rights.

I guess the bisexual doth protest too much.

"Senator," Kincaid says, his voice low and throaty.

Moment of truth. There's still the chance that he might have thought Kincaid was a woman in a strap-on or something—he's half right, at least—but now, having Kincaid's voice ring out through the room, there's no room left for plausible deniability.

"Oh, God," Levinson moans. Then it happens. He wraps his legs around Kincaid's back, using them to impale himself on the toy. It takes Kincaid a while to get it completely inside, and once it is, the senator's face is coated in sweat, and his cock is hard as steel.

"Do you like that?" Fee asks, cupping his cheek. "Do you like getting your ass fucked?"

Levinson makes a sound like he's choking and his entire body goes stiff. "Stop!"

Kincaid and Fee stop, Fee looking over her shoulder until their eyes meet. Kincaid starts to pull out. The footage we have should be enough. I mean, I was hoping for something a little more depraved, but having video of this fucker being penetrated by a man should suffice.

"All right," Kincaid says, slowly pulling out. Surprisingly, Levinson squeezes his legs tighter around Kincaid's back, and he shakes his head.

"No," he whispers. "Her." His bottom lip is trembling, and it looks like he's trying to lean up to claim Kincaid with a kiss. "Want him. Need it. Need him to fuck me. Don't want her. Just you, Daddy."

Jesus. He sounds just like Scotty. The clinginess. The neediness in his tone. Fee arches an eyebrow at me and sighs, mouthing, "Again?" She grabs a plush bathrobe from the hook on the wall and uses it to cover herself. Once she's at my side, she leans over and whispers into my ear, "How many fucking men am I going to lose to the other team? It's absolutely ridiculous at this point. Now, be a dear and make this quick. I'm going to get dressed and head down to the lobby." She looks up at the clock and frowns. "Cheeky boy is probably getting lonely down there. Do you think he's okay?"

I sigh. "This cheeky boy thing is fucking weird, Fee. Even for you."

She glares at me. "I'm not the one who has to have a gun held to their head to ejaculate. A little less judgment, please."

"Just don't try to fuck him. He's gay. I'm not okay with you peddling conversion on the poor twink."

She rolls her eyes and grabs her shirt off the sofa. "Obviously I'm not trying to sleep with him. He's just my cheeky boy. He's like a life-size Ken doll. Don't make our friendship sound so tawdry."

I snicker as I bump my shoulder against hers.

When she's dressed and out the door, I focus my attention on the sight ahead of me. The senator is taking Kincaid's strap-on like a champ, and as Kincaid gets nearer to the edge of his orgasm, the man beneath him is giving us everything we need. Things like "Fuck me, Daddy," and "I'm your bad, bad boy," fall like rain from his mouth.

Kincaid feigns an orgasm, and rather than pull out, he wraps his hand around the senator's shaft and strokes furiously. "You like that, Senator Levinson?"

"Yes," he moans.

"Say it. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I feel . . . free. I feel right."

"Tell me you're my gay bottom whore."

"You know I am, Daddy. I'm your gay bottom whore."

"Good boy," he says, leaning down to peck Levinson's cheek. I can tell the senator is close to his release. He's writhing around like a possessed man. He probably thinks he's about to come. I almost feel bad for the poor bastard.

Almost.

Without warning, Kincaid yanks the blindfold off him, and the senator stares up at him and smiles. "Do I meet your expectations?"

"Yes," he breathes. "Love you. Love you so much."

Okay. So that's where Scotty gets it from. Good to know.

"Don't tell me," Kincaid says, pointing at me. "Tell him." He lets go of Levinson's cock and smirks.

The second the senator spots me, his mouth hangs open. I don't know how this is going to play out. So far, he's kind of been like a mirror image of his son when it comes to his level of depravity. I wonder if he's going to lean into the madness as well.

"What do you want me to say, Daddy?" he rasps, thrusting his hips up, trying to find friction. Ignoring me, he turns back to Kincaid and leans forward. "Just tell me what to say and I'll say it."

"Tell them you're gay, boy. Say it, and I'm all yours. Tell them your ideology is wrong."

There are tears in Levinson's eyes, and when he turns toward us, they pour down his cheeks. "I'm gay. Well, I think I'm bisexual, but still."

"And?" Kincaid says, teasing the head of Levinson's cock with his thumb.

"And this has all just been a cover. I don't believe any of the stuff I spout. I just didn't want anyone to find out. But I'm bi. I'm bi for my king's cock. Don't want a woman. Don't want any women. Just want Daddy. Forever. It's okay to be bi. It's not wrong. No one should be put to death."

"Not even your son?"

Levinson's eyes widen, and for a moment, I think Kincaid may have gone too far. Thankfully, he shakes his head. "My son isn't bisexual. He's a full-on faggot. He deserves far worse than death."

It takes everything I have to maintain my composure.

"Why did you place the hit on him?" Kincaid says.

"How did you know about?—"

His words are silenced with a quick slap to the face. "You don't ask me questions. You speak when I tell you to." A glob of pre-cum oozes down Levinson's shaft. "Why did you order the hit?"

"Because he's an embarrassment. He's a freak. A sodomite. I put the hit on him because I want him dead."

Well, now he's gone too far. Kincaid must think so too, because he pulls away, removes the strap-on, and tosses it over his shoulder. He looks over at me and nods. "He's all yours, buddy." When Kincaid is at my side, he leans in and brings his voice to a whisper. "It's okay if your little Freakshow changes his mind. The footage we have should be enough leverage to end all this." He gives me a knowing nod. "We'll be fine either way, B-man."

"Where . . . Daddy, where are you going?" he calls out to Kincaid, but he's already halfway across the room.

"I'm going to get dressed, and I'm going to join the man I love." He gives me a wink. "Have fun, bro."

When I hear the bathroom door close behind them, I smile down at my prize. Taking a seat beside him, I place my hand on his knee.

"Who the fuck are you?" the senator asks, his voice shaking.

"I'm your future son-in-law," I respond, grabbing the gun out of my pocket. "And I think it's time we get to know each other."

"What?"

"Freakshow?" I call out over my shoulder.

"What the hell is a freakshow?" Levinson says, his eyes still wide, his cock half-hard. Not wanting Scotty to have to witness the sight of his father in this state, I pull the covers over Levinson's chest. Behind me, the closet door opens, and Levinson makes a sound like he's going to be sick.

"Hi, Dad," Scotty says. I don't know what I've been expecting Scotty's reaction to be when he finally came face-to-face with his father, but I didn't think he'd sound so broken. His voice is cracked, and when I look up at him, his eyes are red, like he's been crying. I touch his cheek.

"Are you okay, baby?"

He gives me a quick nod before kneeling in front of the bed, only a few feet from his father. They stare at each other, neither speaking, for what feels like minutes. It's like the entire atmosphere has solidified, and the tension is so thick, even a chainsaw couldn't cut through it.

"Scott," Levinson says. "What are you—why are you here?"

Scotty's got his eyes on the gun in my hand. "I've hated you for so long, Dad. For what you did to me. For what happened to Momma because of you. And now you're out there preaching family values when your family didn't have any value to you. You paid someone to kill me, but I guess the joke's on you." He looks up at me, his eyes teary, but his expression determined. "I wanna do it, Brody."

I shake my head, because I'm not letting him bloody his hands for this son of a bitch. He's already taken so much of Scotty's innocence—I won't let him take even more. "No, baby. No, I promise, you don't."

"Scott," the senator interjects. "Scott, you can't let him do this. I'm your father!"

"You are," Scotty agrees, nodding. "But he's my Daddy."

Leaning in, I gently kiss his lips, pistol-whipping Levinson when he tries to sit up. As he writhes around the bed in agony, I offer my boy what his father never has. Unconditional love.

When the kiss is over, and the only sound in the room is Levinson's whimpered cries, I nod at my boy. "You don't have to watch this, you know. It's okay if you can't."

He doesn't respond. Scotty just turns to stare at his father and nods, giving me the green light. I make my way onto the bed, hobbling toward the senator on my knees. Once I'm on top of him, I wrap my hands around his throat, and I squeeze.