|Bound To You|MxM

{18}~Interrogations & Intimidations~

DOM paced the length of his office. Beneath him, a permanent burn of his aggressive path would be set as a reminder.

Paul had left a few minutes ago and his mind had been making a mess of itself ever since. He needed to do a lot of things and time was running. He needed to start at the beginning of this shit show. The beginning...

He marched over to his desk and picked up his phone, dialing down to Hunter.

"Yes, boss?" Hunter picked up.

"Bring me the hostage, immediately!" Dom barked into the phone, ending the call without waiting for an answer.

It was about to get truly messy in his office. To prevent that even a little, he laid out a plastic sheet on the floor at far side of his office. Retrieving a plastic chair, he placed in the middle of the sheet. He'd also need some materials. Things.

Walking over to his large oak desk, he pressed a hidden button under an empty paper cup. No sound was heard as the inside of the desk slid open to reveal a mini arsenal of Dom's personal toy collection.

This was gonna be fun.

Taking out what he expected to need, he placed it in top of the desk and slid the piece of wood back into place.

Once Hunter arrived with a mess of a struggling man in his arms, he had Hunter secure the man to chair with cuffs, and then tight rope for extra measure.

"Stand guard outside the door. Don't come in 'till I say so." Dom nodded Hunter towards the door.

Once they were alone, Dom  turned his back to DaVinci and walked back to his collection on top of his oak. Picking up a sharp dagger who's dangerous glint caught his eye, he traced the pointed tip along his finger. He grinned, thinking of all the ways he could carve up the mans' body.

Dom turned around suddenly and began his slow walk to DaVinci.

"Tell me, DaVinci, how many little boys and girls have you fucked?" Dom snarled our the question, his eyes full of disgust for the man before him. The man who's eyes still held defiance and pride, as if proud of the fact.

A cold, shudder inducing laugh wobbled out of the wrecked man. "Ah, so he finally spilled, did he? Must've been why you so suddenly decided to personally entertain me," DaVinci, in all his grace and fucking glory, grinned.  Not for long, old man, Dom thought. Not for long.

Dom pulled in a deep breath through his nose and cocked his head. "Let me tell you something, and listen well, will you? The show is yours to control. You answer my questions and I'll reward you with a painful, slow death, more than you deserve if you ask me. You decide to play games and I'll cut you up. I'll dig your nails out of your fingers, then your toes. I'll clip them off one by one. I'll cut open your chest and watch your heart beat it's last ever, your lungs struggling for breath as I prick them with needles. You'll still be living, but not for long." Dom grinned maniacally.

He moved closer and looked into DaVinci eyes. A flash of alarm passed through them but they shuttered and focused on a point behind Dom. Smirking, Dom thought the man had guts. He was physically destroyed and Dom would have fun completing the cycle.

"What, no smartass remark to that?" Dom chuckled. Alright then.

Dom walked closer, standing for to toe with the man. He stunk. Unbearably. Still, Dom bent over slightly, leaning one hand on the mans shoulder. He raised his other hand, clutching the dagger lightly and ran it down the side of the mans face. The face which was dirtied up, pores clogged with mud and angry bruised lighting out. Ick.

A trail of blood ran down the side of his face, making almost waves as it moved over the tired folds of skin. The man refused to flinch. So this is how we're gonna play it? A thought flitted through Dom's head.

Abruptly, he moved back from DaVinci and turned, walking back to his desk, but not before catching the look of fear on the frail mans face. Had they been feeding him? An evil laugh threatened to burst from his throat, and that in turn caused a light chuckle to slip out. Who the fuck cared?

He picked up a slick, golden desert eagle from the table, the weight of it comforting in his palm. He would be sad to see it dirty but that was unavoidable.

Walking back to DaVinci, he straddled the mans lap and threw an arm over his shoulders for balance.

"Now, you're gonna open up that mouth and tell me some truths or we're gonna get really dirty, and not the kind that will get your dick hard. Just mine." Dom trailed the tip of the gun up the mans torso, barely covered by torn clothes and soiled with blood and dirt. The gun went higher and higher, the cold feel assumingely making DaVinci shiver.

"Tell me about that little stunt you pulled."

"I-I don't know w-what you're talking about," his voice was trembling.

Dom yanked the mans head back by his hair and positioned the gun at the hollow of his throat. "Don't play with me, damn it! I will shoot you," he pushed the gun harder into DaVinci's neck, fascinated as he watched the man struggle for breath. Still, the man didn't show any signs of relent. So be it.

Dom trailed the gun up higher and shoved it hard into the mans open mouth, probably knocking a few teeth. He rested his finger on the trigger and looked into the mans eyes. There we go.

"Mmm-'kay, m'kay. Shtop..." the words came out chocked and jumbled.

"Talk."

Dom pulled the gun out harshly, watching as DaVinci struggled for breath. After a few moments, he yanked DaVinci's head back to get him talking. "I was ordered to lure your boy into the house and trap him."

"Ordered by who?" Dom barked even as his heart rate picked up pace at mention of Jaron.

"Al-Alfredo. He-um...my boss..."

Dom glared at him. He'd heard of temporary speech impediments due to fear. Great. "What does your fucking boss want with my guys? And how the fuck did he know we were there?"

DaVinci laughed a little ruefully and it pissed Dom off. "Alfredo knows everything. He's been trailing his prized possession since he found him at that club you dragged him to." Was it his fault Jaron had been taken? No. No, it couldn't be. Dom needed it not to be.

"You should know, he'll be coming for you. Jaron is sure something and Alfredo is one crazy bastard," DaVinci trailed off in his head.

I'm fucking crazier, Dom thought. We'll see who takes Jaron away. Well fucking see.

"So, you're telling me all this is about Jaron?"

"Of course. The man is something else. Besides, without him, you'll fall apart, won't you? It's basic manipulation. Your organization has indirectly cost us millions. Payback is key so of course he'd want you gone as well. That would be the icing on the cake. An easy bonus."

Dom growled and pushed the gun in deeper.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He hadn't asked but he wasn't about to let the man take it back.

"Well, other than the fact that you've got a gun to my windpipe..." he gave a little laugh. "That and I'm dying anyways aren't I?"

"Yes. Yes you are. You'll die for all you put Jaron through. And Paul. And all the other kids you still have. You'll die." DaVinci sucked in a deep breath and held it. Something sparked in his eyes and he went off, snarling and struggling against the restraints.

"Your precious boy, he is. I see it in your eyes, that helpless moment when it comes to him. You can't help it can you? Pathetic. Soon, you'll be all alone. Poor-" Dom didn't let him finish that sentence before he lodged a bullet in his throat. The blood sprayed out to the right, much like a thin but strong faucet. Some got on his hands and face. His beautiful eagle beyond simple repair. Fuck the bastard but it was worth it.

He shoved off the limp body and walked towards the door, unable to be there any longer. He directed Hunter to clean it up and moved down the hallway, gun still in hand. Dom stood outside Jaron's door for a second, just breathing.

A gasp arrested his actions and he turned to find a flustered King. "I-I'm here for the check up..."

Dom nodded once and turned, walking to his room close by. As much as he wanted to see if Jaron was still here and healing, he couldn't go in like this. Shower first.