Death of a King

Chapter 5

And it didn't do a damn thing.

    Dustin's head snapped sideways, hair falling over his face. Then he remained still.

    Even the earth itself seemed to stop spinning and freeze as I waited for him to react. He stood rooted to the spot, his face blank of any emotion. Surely he'd curse me or hit me back, or kill me. All three were possible outcomes for my rash behavior. But I didn't regret it.

    Especially since he technically asked for it.

    Honestly, I couldn't find any fear for what he might do. So far, he hasn't hurt me. Then again, I haven't punched him up until now. Maybe that would be enough to make him snap. If so, I'd accept the consequences for punching a man I already know is willing to kill.

    Because in the end, I would still have the ability to say I punched Dustin King.

    He took in a deep breath through his nose, his chest rising against mine with the inflation. Then he brought his hand up to my cheek. My eyes shut tightly, waiting for the pain, for him to strike back. But he didn't. He merely smiled and tapped my cheek twice, "Nice hit, kid."

    I blinked ... "What?"

    Dustin brushed his fingers over his own cheek as well, "I said nice hit, good form. Perfect execution. Who taught you?"

    "No one ..." I began, beyond confused. Then I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, "You going to let me go now?"

    Dustin stood to his full height, "No."

    "But-"

    "Can you two shut up? I'm trying to sleep." A third voice cut in. Dustin and I looked sideways towards the bed where we found Heather sprawled out, still naked, amongst the sheets. She sat up on her elbows and gave me a confident smile. As if I actually wished to be in her place.

    Dustin rolled his eyes. Then he grabbed Heather by the arm, yanking her from the bed, and threw her towards the door. I looked away as her stark nude body fumbled to keep her footing then turned on Dustin with eyes reddened by fury, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

    Dustin tossed her a large shirt before he opened the door and shoved her out into the hallway, "Sorry darling. But thanks for last night, it was a lot of fun." Then he closed the door while Heather shrieked at him from the hall. Dustin rubbed at his temples.

    I tried to keep a straight face but a short giggle escaped me at thinking of Heather's misfortune. In my defense, she deserved it for calling me a slut last night. Can you believe that? Me! I haven't even had sex yet and she was throwing herself around like a damn baseball, yet it was I who was the slut.

    Dustin cocked his head, "I think that's the first time I've heard you laugh without cursing me in the process."

    My humor died, "So?"

    He shrugged, "I didn't realize you had dimples. They're cute. You should smile more often."

    "What is there to smile about? I'm chained to a pipe." I reminded him, shaking my wrist again. Did he really think compliments would cause me to forget my current situation? I gave him a pointed look and leveled my voice in the hope that he'd understand my next words, "I'm not a pet, you can't just tie me up."

    "You seem to be mistaken, because you are my pet and I can do whatever the hell I want with you. Haven't you been listening to everyone? You're my prisoner, that means I'm in charge." Dustin explained, strolling towards his dresser to to collect a pair of jeans from the bottom drawer. When he saw me staring, nearly seething in anger, he chuckled, "I'm going to change my pants now. But you're more than welcome to watch if you'd like."