Theirs to Claim | 18+

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Chapter 3 : Xavier

Sexual Content Warning⚠️
A/N: This takes place the morning before the murder.

Chapter 3 : Xavier
Thursday, July 15th, 2021

I know I should have stopped myself once the anger that had previously consumed me turned into a familiar numbness, but I didn’t.

Blow after blow, I feel outside of myself as I toss my right fist out in a curved punch, directed at the barely conscious man before me. He’s very clearly hurt, but I keep going. By the time I’m done with him, the only thing he’s going to be capable of is talking. Just where we need him.

I’ve been at this all morning, but I don’t feel myself tire in the slightest.

His hands are bound by wire and tied behind a plastic fold-out chair, leaving him with no choice but to take each one of my relentless hits. With my right foot slightly behind me, I move in to strike again, but my movements falter when I feel a firm grip on my shoulder. Alec.

“Why don’t you take a break? We need him in somewhat of a functioning condition for him to be useful for us.” My best friend and business partner says with humor in his voice.

Alec is one of two people that can pull me back to reality when I get like this. Anyone else would likely be knocked out on the ground by now.

My entire body is shaking from overexerting myself for such a long period of time, but I manage to cease my brutal assault.

Not feeling too talkative, as usual when I get like this, I give a sharp nod.

Stepping back, I observe for the first time the harsh condition I put this man in.

Blood trickled down his broken face that was now covered in an array of cuts and bruises, matching the ones that have reopened on my own knuckles. Tears spilled from his tired eyes, causing him to wince each time one of them ran over a cut. The sight brought a dark smile to my face.

There were very few things in this world that brought me joy, but the terrified look in this man’s eyes was one of them.

I’m a monster and those who know me- or know of me wish they didn’t. I liked things that way, though. After all, no one can hurt you if you don’t give them the chance to do so in the first place.

The only reason Alec and my other friend Caleb stick with me is because on the inside, they’re just as fucked up and demented as I am. They just hide it better.

Seeing as I hadn’t left yet, Alec nudged me, encouraging me to get out so he could do his work without the man being too scared shitless to say anything. Taking the hint, I give him a nod in goodbye.

Walking out the door, I move into the attached observation room containing a large, one-way mirror and an audio recording system. This way I could still hear and witness what this pathetic man had to say.

I mean I know I’ve been torturing him all morning, but there’s really no need to cry this much over it.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” I hear Alec’s voice question from the other room. He is currently leaning against the back wall, across from the man known as Tom Davis.

The idiot just shakes his head from side to side, his eyes pinching shut tightly as if it pained him to do even that. He must be really stupid if he thinks he’s getting out of this. Either way he’s going to give us what we want. At this point he’s only making this harder on himself.

More entertainment for me though, so I can’t really complain.

“Hmm.” Alec hums, not making a comment like I expect him to. Pushing off of the wall, he moves closer to Tom, and I don’t miss the way his body stiffens at his closer presence. “I take it you met my friend Xavier then?” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “You know? The one who did... well all of this.” Alec waves his hand around his own face, referring to the damage I did to Tom’s. Still no response, other than looking down at his lap.

Alec moves forward again, getting even closer. His intimidating presence is clearly working, as Tom shifts nervously in his chair. While I may physically be scary, Alec gets inside of people’s heads and finds ways to use it against them. If you ask me, that’s even worse.

“He seems to have done quite a number on you.” He states. “Does it hurt?”

The man’s eyes shoot up, tensing in confusion by Alec’s question. Or more so the seemingly genuine concern that could be heard in his tone.

“Well, are you going to answer me?”

“Yes?” Tom warily says, however it came out as more of a question than a response.

“Yes, what?” Alec pushes, moving from his spot and towards where the storage cabinets are located. And by storage cabinets, I mean the place where we keep all of our weapons and tools that get people talking. Why can’t I do it though?

“Y-yes, of course it hurts. I swear that man became p-possessed by something for a minute there.” The man stumbles on his words, making me smirk. “H-his e-eyes quite literally turned black l-like a demon’s would.”

I mean, he’s not lying. My naturally brown eyes apparently get really dark when I experience strong emotions. In this case, anger and aggression. While I’ve never seen them for myself, I’ve heard it’s downright terrifying.

What confuses me, however, is why Alec is pretending to care about his pain.

Opening one of the cabinet doors, my friend continues to talk. “You really should clean those cuts. You wouldn’t want to get them infected.” Alec says, turning back towards Tom, now with a white, slightly translucent bottle in his hands.

Tom’s full attention instantly moves to the container.

“What is that?”

“Oh this?” Alec starts, as a cruel smile spreads across his face. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little bit of rubbing alcohol. You know, to help.”

This brought my own smile to my face. Damn. I knew there was a reason I liked this guy.

Unscrewing the lid from the bottle and flicking it onto the floor, Alec slowly walks over towards the terrified man. Noticing the metal table to Tom’s left, he drags it against the concrete floor, causing a loud screeching noise to echo throughout the room. Now in front of him, Alec sets the container down in Tom’s direct line of vision.

“I think I’m going to go grab a chair for myself. Don’t worry though, I’ll be back shortly.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Oh, and once I’m back, you and I are going to have a little chat... or not. It really depends on you.”

Tom gulps, but still doesn’t say anything. That won’t last for long though. Not with Alec there.

Leaving the rubbing alcohol on the table, Alec turns and walks out. I hear the click of the door close behind him, only for the one to my room to open.

“You good?” He asks, taking a seat beside me.

“Yeah, I’ve settled back down if that’s the answer you were looking for.”

He hears me, but doesn’t respond. The two of us just sit there in a comfortable silence, watching as Tom frantically wiggles his wrists from behind him, trying to get them free.

“Why are you here?” I ask. There are already extra chairs in that room, so there’s no real reason for Alec to have left.

“It’s all a game, Xavier. You know that.” He answers. Considering I don’t speak, he takes that as a sign to continue.

“By forcing Tom to sit there, staring at the torture he knows that container brings, he’ll start to get in his head- consider if the pain is truly worth keeping his mouth shut. You can see it happening already by the way he is fidgeting and sweating more than he was earlier. His eyes haven’t left the table since I walked out, so I know he’s thinking about it. If you let the fear continue to build, by the time I’m back, it’s more likely that he’ll be ready to give us what we want.”

That’s Alec for you. He reads people and then uses it to manipulate them. I may not fully understand everything he does, but it’s always for a reason. A small component that leads to a much larger end goal.

“But what if he still doesn’t talk when you get back?”

“Then he’s going to be showered in rubbing alcohol, and it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

This made me chuckle a little. “Is it bad that I almost wish he doesn’t talk now?”

“Jesus, Xavier.” Alec laughs. “You really are a sadistic bastard.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

He just shakes his head with a smile. Standing, Alec takes hold of the chair he was just previously sitting on. “Anyways, I think Tom’s waited long enough, don’t you think?”

“Let me know if you need any assistance.” I offer.

“I will.” He says, before exiting.

Only a few seconds later, Alec is placing his chair down in front of Tom. Despite this, however, he remains standing.

“So Tom, let’s make this quick, shall we? Tell us where Marcus Caddel is and we can end this whole thing right now.”

The man pinches his eyes closed and furiously shakes his head back and forth. “Please. I can’t tell you anything. I don’t know where he is, but I do know that he’ll personally kill me if I help you.”

Alec just sighs in disappointment. “Alright Mr. Davis, suit yourself. However, I highly suggest you close your eyes, because I doubt this stuff is safe for your vision.”

“Please! Please don't do this! I swear I don't know where he is!” Tom sobs, now in a completely hysterical state.

“If you don’t know where he is, then what can you tell us? Surely you know something, otherwise you wouldn’t have been brought here.”

No response.

“How about what he hired you to do? Can you answer that?”

No response.

Alec lets out a frustrated breath. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk, then I will. Here’s what I know about you, Mr. Davis. I know that you are 43 years old, and I also know that you have a wife back home in Los Angeles. Carrie, right?”

This got his attention.

“I hear that congratulations are in order. You’re going to be a father soon.”

“No.” Tom says in horror, but it’s not because Alec was wrong.

“Only, it’s not your wife that’s pregnant, is it?”

Tom hangs his head forward in shame, but doesn’t deny it. “Listen, you don’t understand. It’s really complicated.”

“Actually, it’s not.” Alec cuts him off. “I just got off the phone with your Carrie about an hour ago and took the courtesy of explaining your situation for you. Believe me when I say, she wasn’t pleased.”

“What?” Tom freezes as he processes this information.

“Let me ask you once more. What can you tell us about Marcus Caddel?”

“Fuck you! Don’t you realize what you just did?”

I can tell by Alec’s change in demeanor that he’s beginning to get mad. Oh, this should be good. My dear friend very rarely loses his composure, so it’s always a roller coaster ride to see him when he does.

“You think this is bad? This is child’s play compared to what we’re capable of. We tried to make this work in a civilized fashion at the start, and it was you who chose to not be cooperative. I would like to say that I’m a fairly patient man, but my patience is thinning.” Alec rounds the table, and leans down, so he is at eye level with Tom.

“I highly suggest you work with me here, because between Xavier and I, I am the nice one. However, don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I have no issue calling him right back in here to work with you. That is of course right after I douse you along with each and every single one of your cuts in a pool of alcohol.” Moving back towards his seat, Alec continues, “Oh and forewarning, Xavier likes to play with matches. Do you want to find out for yourself, or are you going to work with me here?”

“Fuck you!” Tom spat out. “You ruined my life. There’s nothing to go home to now and it’s your fault.”

“Oh, Tom. If you think you’re leaving this room in anything but a body bag, you’re sorely mistaken.”

This shuts him up completely and replaces his newfound confidence with fear once again.

Taking a moment, I stop listening to their conversation, and instead appreciate just how... beat up Tom is. Both of his eyes have almost fully swollen themselves shut, he has cuts lining almost every spot on his face and bruises are now fully showing underneath his bloodied skin. Alec was right- I really did manage to do a number on him.

My happy thoughts, however, are abruptly interrupted by the shrilling scream now coming out of Tom’s mouth.

Holy shit, Alec actually did it. He is currently standing behind Tom with the large bottle of rubbing alcohol spilling over onto his damaged, and I’m sure now burning skin. My friend is not typically one for violence, however the sight before me is a reminder of how truly ruthless he could be- how ruthless he is. It was how we were all trained and now it’s who we are.

I guess that’s kind of a given when you work for the deadliest, most powerful crime group in all of America. My father is its leader, and I am the heir. We are the Alcaraz Crime Family and are the most powerful out of the three that make up the Italian-American Mafia.

It has quickly become a well-known fact that anyone who dares to cross us is a dead man walking, and Marcus Caddel, is a dead man walking. He has been building his own personal army for years, in hopes of taking our rank. Not fucking likely. Nevertheless, he is still a target and must be taken down.

That’s why my father put my team and I on our newest assignment- find Marcus Caddel, capture him, and then make a statement out of his dead body as to what happens to people who think to cross us. Tom Davis was simply a lead. A lead which was going to break any second now.

“Hey Xavier! Can you come help me with something back here please?” I hear Alec call. Looks like it’s my turn to play again.

“No! Oh god, please no! I’ll tell you what you want, just please don't bring him back here!”

I can’t tell if I’m happy about the fact that Tom is finally ready to give us what we need, or sad since I’m no longer going to get the outlet I so desperately need right now. I guess I’ll just have to find something else to let my energy out on. Or someone else that is.

Just to be sure, I open the door to the room and peak my head in, smirking at the look of fear that instantly consumes Tom’s face when he sees me. Really? You’re terrified of me, but not the guy who just made your skin feel on fire?

“You needed a hand?” I ask hopefully, even though I already know his answer.

I watch as Alec checks his designer watch that sits on his left wrist.

“The club should be opening in about twenty. Go let off some steam and I’ll meet you there when I’m done.” Alec says, before returning his attention to Tom. To some, Alec’s refusal to sit down during questioning may seem like nothing, but I know it’s an act of dominance.

Accepting that I was no longer needed, I closed the metal door and walked over to the elevator down the hall. Stepping inside, I pressed a button that would take me up to where my other friend Caleb worked. While my team consisted of a few hundred people, Caleb and Alec were not only my business partners, but they are also the closest thing to family I’ve ever had.

On the ride up, I use the short period of time to inspect the damage I’ve done to my hands. There’s some cuts and dried blood around my knuckles, but it’s nothing too serious- nothing I haven’t felt before.

The high pitch ding of the elevator indicates that I’m now on the first floor, and only seconds later, the doors slide open to reveal a spacious white area.

Stepping onto the polished marble floor, I see Caleb sitting at his desk through the glass walls of his office. He’s at his computer managing God knows what, but I can tell it has his full attention.

Here, in New York, everyone is specialized in their own personal set of expertise. That way, whatever we need done, we can trust that there’s always someone on the team who can do it.

Alec, as you can tell, is the manipulator in our group of three. While he isn’t scared of physical... well, physical encouragement per say, for the most part he relies on his mind to get what he needs. There isn’t much that can get past that guy. I don’t know the exact specifics, but I do know that he reads the signs that people give off. Just by observing their reactions to things like words, sounds, or actions, Alec is able to collect almost any information we could gain from a person. It’s pretty scary actually.

Caleb, he manages all of our finances and is pretty much the brain of our operation. While I’m still the leader, Caleb makes the majority of judgement calls since he’s able to analyze and think of every possible outcome our decisions hold. He’s the least hot headed out of our group, and lord knows that Alec and I would have screwed up this entire mission a long time ago if it weren’t for Caleb’s rational thinking.

As for me, I’m the hunter. I receive a location and a name, find said person, and then in most cases end up killing them too. My job is the least civilized in our group, but I’m damn good at what I do. The thrill of the hunt is intoxicating, and while killing people is never ideal, someone has to get it done.

And of course on top of that, I’m the son and firstborn heir to the Italian-American Mafia. Once my father either dies, or steps down, I will be the leader to one of the largest gangs in the world, inheriting all of the responsibilities along with the title.

That’s how it works with us. While there are thousands of other people who play their own roles in what we do, there isn’t much the three of us together are unable to accomplish on our own.

Knocking on the window of Caleb’s office, I pull his attention away from his computer, over to where I’m standing.

“Hey, how’d it go?” He asks.

“Alec is still downstairs questioning him, but he claims to be completely unaware of Marcus’ location. My guess is another dead end.”

“Hmm...” Is Caleb’s only reaction, before resuming back to the work on his computer. “Come here, I wanna show you something.”

Entering his office, I move to stand beside him. There is now an image pulled up on his screen. “What am I looking at here?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking... we’ve spent the last year and a bit trying to locate Marcus and so far, every time, we’ve come up empty handed.”

“Okay and?”

“I think that instead of trying to find him, we should be finding and exploiting his weakness, so he’ll come to us instead.”

That’s not a bad idea.

“Everyone has something that makes them vulnerable. Love, money, addiction, revenge. No matter what it is, we just have to figure out what Marcus Caddel cares about enough that when put at risk, he’ll bring himself out of hiding to protect it.”

Like I said, ‘the brain’ of our group.

“Okay, so what does that have to do with what I’m looking at here?” I ask. On the screen is an image of a picture frame with a woman inside who looks to be in her mid twenties or so. Maybe this is his daughter?

“This picture was found in that abandoned house we suspected to once belong to Marcus. We sent a few men to go check it out earlier this week, but they said this was the only thing they found.”

“Daughter?” I ask him.

“Nope. I thought the same at first, but the date stamp on the back said that it was taken in April, 1990. This makes the woman about fifty give or take. I did some more digging, but was unable to find any copy of a marriage certificate. My guess is that this woman is likely Marcus Caddel’s lover, but he just never decided to put a ring on it.”

“It’s possible.” I ponder. “Any other relatives you could find?”

“None that are alive. I was however able to find the death certificates of both his parents and grandparents. He’s an only child, with no kids of his own. That makes this woman-” Caleb says, tapping the screen, “the only known person alive who is connected to Marcus Caddel...”

“Therefore making her our bait.” I finished his sentence, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Therefore making her our bait.” Caleb repeats, with a small smile on his face.

All I need is a location now, and I’ll have found myself a new job.

“Good work Cal. Let me know when you need my help. Right now, however, I’m going to head to the club. Feel free to join if you want.”

“Sure, I was just about done for the day anyways. You go shower and then we can go.”

Completely forgetting about my current state, I look down to see my white tank top covered in Tom’s blood and my sweat. Yeah, I definitely do not want to leave the building looking like this.

“You go ahead. I’ll meet you there later.” I tell him, before going upstairs to wash all of the blood from my body. Fuck, I really need to find myself a good lay tonight.

I’m tense from work, and more specifically my dad constantly being on my ass about every single thing I do. I get that he needs me to be the ‘perfect soldier’ if I’m going to take his place one day, but he seriously needs to lay off of the whole concerned father act.

After a quick five minute shower, I find myself dressed, on my Harley, and on my way to Rush; the most exclusive nightclub in New York. It’s also the business that Caleb, Alec, and I co-own with each other. We designed it ourselves, and is one of our greatest accomplishments.

The building splits into two sections.

The main floor is just like any typical night club. As long as you’re on the guest list, you’re able to get the memorable experience that Rush has to offer. Our layout allows the general public to enjoy themselves while remaining sheltered from the more... exclusive section.

While the basement is still a club per say, it is intended primarily for our VIP members. It’s not a secret that it’s there, what most people don’t know is that it’s a BDSM club. There’s a separate entrance to get to that section, and it works out great for us. The general public is left clueless about what’s below them, and the three of us make a shit ton of money from serving both crowds.

Best of both worlds if you ask me.

Despite us not having submissives ourselves, there’s always a large selection of women for us to choose from each night. A lot of the time we’ll even do teaching demonstrations in the form of scenes on stage and engage that way. That’s what most of the members know us from, apart from being the owners of course.

It was about a thirty minute drive to Rush from the main establishment, but I managed to get there in half the time. What can I say? I like to drive fast. It might be dangerous, but I’m probably going to die by the age of thirty-five anyways, so I may as well enjoy life while I’m still able to.

Parking in my reserved spot, I walk towards the club’s entrance, giving the bouncers a small nod in hello. They don’t question me or bother with the usual formality of a list check, already being well accustomed with who I am.

The second I walk through the doors, I’m greeted by the familiar, electric feeling of the nightclub. Everyone is feeding off of the beat of the music, the smiles on people’s faces, and the dancing that has their hearts racing.

It’s at full capacity as always.

Moving through the crowd, I make my way towards the VIP entrance along the back wall. There I see two of our other bouncers, making sure no outsiders get in.

“Tony, Mike.” I say in hello.

“Hey, boss.” Mike responds, stepping aside from the doors to allow me entry.

I walk straight through, soon finding myself in the lobby where our receptionist, Cassidy, stands. For newcomers, this is the place they would go to create a membership and meet with one of our service providers for a rundown of the place. This is also the checkpoint where you have to prove you’re following the dress code and sign in with your ID.

“Welcome back, Mr. Alcaraz.” Cassidy addresses me politely.

“Thank you.” Is all I say. I’m not exactly in the mood for chit chat right now.

Moving through yet another set of doors, I am led onto a large platform that overlooks the main portion of the club.

The faint murmurs of conversation, and the sound of quiet music fills the space, dimmed neon blue lighting adding to the sensual feeling.

No plays are in session right now, but that’s normal considering it’s not too late in the night.

Later is when the real fun begins.

Leaning against the railing of the platform, I observe the crowd, scoping out my options for the night. I spot a lot of our regulars and the odd newcomer, but for the most part, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Same old, same old.


“Oh, fuck yes! Uh, that feels so good, don’t stop sir, don’t stop!” The woman excessively moans in front of me. Jesus Christ she’s annoying.

With a tight grip on her hips, I aggressively pound into the nameless girl from behind. Over and over again, the slapping sounds of where my hips meet her ass fills the air. Come on, Xavier. Just cum so this can be over with.

Trying to drown out her forced screams, I pick up my speed, desperate to feel something. Anything.

“Mmm, you feel so good in my tight little pussy. I’m going to make you cum so fucking hard.” The girl squeals from beneath me. Nope, this just wasn’t going to do it.

Gripping the back of her neck with one hand, I use my other to push her back into a deeper arch. She is now angled so that she’s laying face first into a pillow, with only her knees and my new grip on her wrists to keep her steady.

Resuming my fast pace, I do everything that I can to get myself there. It helped that her over the top cries were now being drowned out, but it just wasn’t happening.

Fuck. I’m so done with this.

Needing it to be over, I reach around her small waist, guiding my hand down and connecting my fingers to her clit. Moving my hand in fast, small circles, I instantly feel her walls tighten around me.

The girl lets out a muffled scream, and I have to tighten my grip as her climax overtakes her shaking body.

She continuously moans into the pillow with every thrust I deliver, dragging out her orgasm for just a few more seconds. My pace only slows, when she’s completely spent of all energy and slumped over.

Pulling out, I remove the unfilled condom, tossing it into the trashcan in the corner. I do up the zipper on my jeans before turning back to see the now satisfied girl laying naked on her back.

“So Xavier...” She starts, looking up at me with wishful eyes, “I see you around here a lot, and I was wondering if you’d maybe want to go for dinner with me sometime?”

And there it is. The post-sex conversations that always seem to be inevitable.

“It’s Mr. Alcaraz to you.” I correct, not acknowledging her question.


“Only my submissive gets to call me sir or by my first name. I heard you say it earlier, and I want to make it very clear that you are not to call me by any title other than Mr. Alcaraz.”

Yeah, I know I’m being a dick, but now I’m even more stressed than when I first came here. The last thing I need is to be asked out to dinner.

The girl looks annoyed with me, but she just bows her head in response.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Alcaraz.”

I can’t tell if her new expression is caused by hurt from my rejection, or just a bruised ego. Either way, it’s not my problem.

“Have a nice night... um...”


“Have a nice night Stephanie.” I say before exiting one of the many private rooms we have here.

Fuck, I love this place, but it would be even nicer if I could actually enjoy it for myself more often.

Walking out and past some of the public stages, I head straight for the bar. If I can’t get off, then my next best choice is to have a couple drinks.

We have rules including that you aren’t allowed to engage in play after more than one alcoholic beverage down here, but I don’t plan on it for the rest of the night anyways.

That’s the thing about our club. It’s not just to enact your fantasies, but also to get the chance to meet new people in the BDSM community.

I spot Alec and Caleb leaning against a section of the bar top nearby. They’re quietly talking to each other, while their eyes scan the room to ensure everything’s in order.

They aren’t the only ones, though. We have a series of dungeon monitors throughout every section of the club to ensure safe plays. Safety and consent are the two most important things to maintain in this type of environment, and we do everything we can to ensure it at all times.

Caleb’s gaze lands on me, and gives me a silent indication to join them. Walking over, I ended up standing on Alec’s left with Caleb in front of us both.

“Let’s go up to my office, so we can talk without the ears of those around us.” Alec says, pushing his body off of the bar top.

Caleb and I move alongside him, walking up the same grand staircase we walked down to enter the dungeon earlier. Alec’s office was just down the hall, in between Caleb’s and my own.

Punching in the eight digit code to the room, the three of us soon found ourselves situated on his black leather couch, beverage in hand.

“So... what did you find out?” I ask.

“He genuinely doesn’t know where Marcus is. Once he calmed down a little, I was able to get a clearer read on him, and could tell that he was in fact telling the truth. However, it seems that Marcus has himself a wife. Tom overheard some of the other workers talking about it during one of his jobs.”

This confirms Caleb’s idea of him having a vulnerability. What doesn’t make sense, however, is why Marcus would leave his only loved one behind to fend for herself.

“And how exactly did Tom know Marcus again?” I ask.

“He was hired about two years back to carry out some work for him. He said that Marcus had contacted him a few times after that, but never once did they personally meet. That’s how he knew of him, but not where he was.”

“And Tom?”

“Dead.” Is all Alec says in response.

After that, we just sit in silence for a moment, taking all of this information in. None of us really enjoyed killing, well them more than me, but it didn’t matter what we liked. It was a part of the job. We were simply forced to adapt, and those who fail to do so are exiled.

I remember that I was ten the first time I killed a man. I specifically recall that one day when my dad forced a gun into my hand, whispering words of encouragement in my ear to take another’s life.

“Go ahead, son. Pull the trigger.”

“But why? What did he do?” My younger self asks.

“Because, it is meant to teach you a valuable lesson. Feeling compassion for others makes you weak. And weakness is not tolerated in this family.”

“I don’t understand. How does that make you weak?”

“Are you talking back to me?” My father says in a threatening tone.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry then prove it. Shoot him.”

“Father please. I can’t. I really don’t see how this is going to teach me anything. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“That’s the problem my dear boy. Your brain is still wired to feel for others. But don’t worry, I’ll fix you, just as my father did me. Remember what I always say; don’t feel, just act. Now pull the fucking trigger.”



“I won’t do it.” I say, looking into the pleading eyes of the kind man that is tied up in front of me. His mouth is bound shut by duct tape, but I can still hear the faint sobs leaving his body. Why would my father want to end someone’s life who is completely harmless? I don’t understand it.

My father lets out a loud sigh. “Okay then. That’s fine.” He surprises me in a disappointed, but for the most part calm voice.

“Really? Thank you!” I say. A rush of relief flows through me as I drop the gun, running over to help the poor man. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of these.”

Moving around, I go to unwrap the tape that binds his wrists behind him. Once that is done, I skip the strip around his mouth since he’s too tall for me to reach. With his hands now free, I go down to unwrap the restraints around his feet, but I freeze in horror as I hear the sound of a bullet leaving a gun and entering straight into the innocent man’s head. His blood splatters all over my face and I have to jump out of the way, as his lifeless body slumps forward.

“NO!” I cry, tears instantly streaming down my face.

“This, son, is what I mean by weakness. Look at you. You’re shedding tears over a dead man. It’s pathetic.” My father’s cruel voice states.


“Son, you can’t let yourself feel for others. When I send you out into the field, I can’t have you crying every time you kill someone. When an enemy is coming at you with the intent to kill, you don’t get to take a moment to think about it. The only thing you can do is be the one to act first.”

“But this man wasn’t an enemy. He was helpless and couldn’t fight back.” I cry, trying to reason with my father.

“I hoped that this would work, but clearly I was wrong. This is for your own good son. You may not realize it now, but I am doing you a huge favour.”

Turning his back to me, I watch as my father walks towards the open door, before exiting and locking it behind him.

“Dad?” I call out.

Opening a small slot in the door, he answers, “You need to learn that this man does not matter. He is not important and you most certainly should not be crying over him. I don’t care how long it takes, but you are going to stay in this room and look into his lifeless eyes until you don’t feel anything anymore.”

“NO! FATHER PLEASE DON’T DO THIS! I’M REALLY SORRY!” I cry, but get no response.

Lifting myself up from the dirty floor, I frantically begin to pound my tiny, balled up fists against the metal door that held me captive.


Snapping out of that memory, I shake my head, trying to push back down those parts of my life. I was forced to stay in that room and look into those eyes until eventually my body was no longer capable of producing tears. It wasn’t until three days later, with no food or water, that my father let me go. The next day we tried again, and that time, it was I who pulled the trigger. Like he always says; don’t feel, just act.

“Hey, man. You okay?” Caleb asks me, with a bit of concern showing on his face. I subconsciously remember that Alec stepped out to answer a phone call, so it was just Caleb and I in the room.

“Yeah, I was just thinking.”

Caleb doesn’t push me to talk, and I like that about him. Alec too. They’re the only ones that I have opened up to about my uprising and they only push me as far as I am willing to go. At the same time, they instantly back off when I show signs that I don’t want to talk anymore.

We knew each other’s boundaries, and we made sure to respect them.

“Hey guys, we gotta go.” Alec says, swinging open the door.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I was just with Hailey on the phone. She said it was nothing too serious, but some perv kept making moves on her today at work. She just didn’t feel good about it and wanted some company back at the hotel to take her mind off of it.”

Hailey is a fellow member and a dominatrix at Rush. The three of us met her on opening night and became really close friends shortly after. The thought of someone making her feel that uncomfortable caused murderous thoughts to form in my head.

“Tomorrow.” Alec says to me, clearly sensing where my thoughts were going.

“Tomorrow.” I repeat.

Right now, we’ll probably head over to the hotel and watch a movie with a few drinks, but tomorrow- tomorrow the man from her work was going to pay.

People like Tom are killed quickly to keep them silent, but by the time we’re through with this asshole, he’s going to wish we took mercy on him and just let him die.

- End of Chapter 3 -

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