Chapter 25

If I thought the frustration I felt at the cabin was bad, this is so much worse. Because I didn’t keep my arm as still and relaxed as I needed to, the night Killian made me cum on my own fingers, I reopened a few small stitches on my arm. Since then, they seem to have implemented a no touching or dirty talking rule.

For four fucking weeks now.

It has been a constant rotation of the guys taking care of me. They have been cleaning and redressing my arm, making sure I am being fed, and slowly working with me on strengthening my coordination with my left hand since we don’t know if my right will work properly yet.

And if they aren’t with me, they are keeping up appearances, still ‘searching’ for me for Owen while taking on contracts so as not to raise questions. Every time they report back with an update of Owen, it paints the picture of a man losing his mind at not being able to find where I disappeared to. Each week they tell me how his control is slowly slipping, how he is giving out jobs that some teams are refusing to accept. I was surprised with how many members of The Order actually had a line they wouldn’t cross. But the most recent refusal however had been met with brutal force when Owen simply shot them for insubordination.

They try their best to avoid having to make appearances at headquarters, except for when they need to all go. So we set up a security system leading to the borrowed apartment with the help of someone they apparently trust in The Order named Tavish.

Despite the constant care and attention from the guys, I can”t shake the feeling of frustration and restlessness that gnaws at me every day. The enforced rule of distance only adds to my pent-up desires, leaving me craving their touch more than ever.

Each day feels like an eternity as I wait for any sign that my arm is healing properly, that I”ll be able to regain full use of it soon. But the days blur together in a monotonous cycle of therapy sessions, meals, and idle moments spent longing for something more.

As the days pass, my frustration only grows, fueled by the constant reminder of my limitations and the longing for the intimacy I crave with the guys.

My bandaging had finally been left off this morning, the scars on my arm are an ugly pink color with bruising still lingering on the skin around it. I find myself in the company of Rayth and Damon, engaged in an unexpected lesson on torture techniques.

Rayth guides me through the process, pointing out pressure points and sensitive areas on Damon”s body while I practice with a blunt knife. It”s a surreal experience, but I try to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside my frustrations and desires.

When Rayth and Damon congratulate me on my progress, I can”t help but feel a surge of frustration bubble up inside me. Slamming the knife down on the table, I storm away a few steps, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

”What”s wrong, Everly?” Damon asks and when I turn, his amused expression only serves to irritate me further. A faint smile playing on his lips while Rayth watches me with a raised eyebrow and an unreadable expression, sets me more on edge.

”Don”t look at me like I”m being a brat,” I snap, my temper flaring as Damon tries to hide his amusement behind his hand.

”If I thought you were being a brat, you would be over my knees,” Rayth responds, his tone firm but tinged with amusement.

I growl again, my frustration boiling over. ”No, I wouldn”t be, because touching is off-limits, right?” I retort, the bitterness evident in my voice.

Damon can”t contain his laughter now, and I snatch up the knife from the table, pointing it at him threateningly. ”Keep laughing at me, and I will stab you with this so hard it won”t matter that it”s blunt,” I snarl, my eyes flashing with anger.

Heat enters Damon”s eyes, but he doesn”t lose his smile. ”Vicious. You know I love that, precious,” he says, his tone teasing.

Meanwhile, Rayth tilts his head, his gaze narrowed on my face. ”Would it make you happier if we gave you an actual person to practice on?” he asks, and my heart races in my chest at the suggestion.

”Really?” I ask, surprised by the offer, my mind racing with the possibilities.

Rayth nods. ”Your arm has healed enough,” he confirms, and though what I really want is a good hard fuck, the prospect of real-life torture practice is just as enticing. My heart pounds in my chest as a rush of adrenaline courses through me. This is one of the things I”ve been craving, that I”ve been yearning for.

They must see the answer on my face because a smile curves Rayth”s lips as he pulls out his phone. ”I”ll call Tavish. I”m sure he knows someone we could practice on,” he says, but I raise a finger before he hits dial.

”Do we actually trust Tavish? Is he someone we can rely on?” I ask, concern evident in my voice.

Rayth”s smile only widens. ”He was the one who finally helped us find you, and he has been feeding us information on abusive men for years, as well as helping to save innocent victims Owen has targeted in the past.”

I lower my hand, feeling reassured by Rayth”s explanation. I would have been content with just Tavish helping them find me, but the fact that he provides information to the guys wins him brownie points in my book.

As Rayth wanders away to make the call, Killian walks through the door, his sharp gaze assessing the looks on our faces. I can”t contain my excitement, already bouncing slightly on my feet. However, when Rayth returns scowling, my excitement plummets.

”Please tell me that”s not a ”we aren”t having fun today” face,” I say, my disappointment evident.

Rayth glances between us all before speaking. ”He gave me someone. It was someone that came to his attention when he was helping to look for you. But he put it to the side because he knew we would want to focus on getting you out and better. In the meantime, this person has abused another woman,” he explains, his anger palpable.

I clench my fists and put them on my hips, frustration boiling inside me. ”Then what are we waiting for? Let”s go deal with this asshole before he hurts another woman,” I say angrily.

Rayth looks directly at Damon, and something in his expression catches Damon”s attention. Damon subtly straightens, his playful demeanor replaced by seriousness.

”It”s Mitchell Spade,” Rayth says, addressing Damon directly.

Damon curses viciously in response to that name. ”Explain,” Killian commands simply.

”We know him. We went to med school with him,” Damon begins, before Rayth elaborates further.

”We suspected he was doing some shady things to women back then, but had no evidence. It was before we started taking out the trash ourselves.

“Tavish has found evidence that he is abusing female patients, partially drugging them before he abuses them. They are semi-aware enough so he can enjoy it, but they barely remember anything, and there was usually no evidence. But Tavish managed to get some details and enough footage to confirm it,” Rayth confirms.

”Sounds like he has an appointment with a sharp knife,” I say angrily, ready to confront the man who dares to harm innocent women.

They all nod in agreement. ”Tavish gave me Mitchell”s location. We”ll take our kits with us. He lives alone, so it shouldn”t be an issue,” Rayth says, and I return to bouncing slightly in excitement. Damon shakes his head at me in amusement, but I”m too excited to care.

I am forced to still wait a couple of hours until the sun goes down. I grab one of the hoodies stored in the limited clothing the guys have given me, and we make our way to the underground parking garage where their car is.

The anticipation bubbles inside me as we drive towards Mitchell”s location. My heart races with a mixture of excitement and anger at the thought of confronting him. The adrenaline courses through my veins, driving away the frustration and restlessness that has plagued me for weeks.

As we approach Mitchell”s house, the atmosphere becomes tense with anticipation. It”s a secluded property, the large flashy house surrounded by expansive grounds. This isolation works in our favor, offering plenty of space for us to move without being detected.

We all pull on gloves, Killian and Rayth split off, disappearing into the shadows while Damon keeps me close, guiding me stealthily toward the house.

My heart pounds with excitement and nervous energy as we inch closer to the house. Every creak of noise and the rustle of the leaves sets my senses on edge, but Damon”s presence beside me is reassuring.

Finally, we reach the side of the house, hidden in the shadows. Damon gestures for me to wait as he checks for any signs of alarm systems or security cameras. Satisfied that we”re clear, he nods for me to follow as we silently make our way along the back deck of the house.

He shows me what to look for to find an entry point and how to open things like locked glass windows with as little noise as possible. With practiced ease, Damon slides the window open, the movement almost soundless. He motions for me to climb through first, and I slip inside, grateful for the darkness that envelops me.

Once inside, we move quickly and quietly, sticking to the shadows as we search for Mitchell. The adrenaline courses through my veins, heightening my senses and sharpening my focus.

Finally, we spot him, asleep in his bed, unaware of the danger lurking just outside his door. Anger boils inside me as I gaze at the man who has caused so much pain and suffering to innocent women.

I sense movement behind me, and my heart jumps with alarm. But when I turn, it”s just Rayth, walking toward us with an almost casual demeanor. He places his black kit bag gently on the ground, and Damon continues to watch our target as Rayth lays out a few items on the ground.

Rayth opens a small case and pulls out a syringe, handing it to Damon silently. Despite the gravity of the situation, they”re still in teaching mode, with Damon motioning exactly what he”s about to do like a bizarre game of charades. He then motions for me to follow him until we”re close enough to Mitchell that he stirs.

With swift precision, Damon snaps his hand out and plunges the needle into the side of Mitchell”s neck, pressing the plunger with a small grunt from Mitchell. It takes only seconds for whatever was in the syringe to take effect, rendering Mitchell unconscious again.

As the tension eases from the room, I feel a rush of pride and excitement. My heart is racing and my blood is pumping. We are one step closer to taking justice for all the women he hurt and protecting those who can’t protect themselves.