Pledge

14. Unity

14. Unity

"YOU THINK YOU'RE FUCKING FUNNY?" Jax yelled as the two older men wrestled on the floor, loudly grunting and throwing fists and kicks at one another at Scott's feet.

"At least I'm not a faggot."

Smack.

The blond looked down at the two fighting men awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do.

Mitch stepped forward, rolling his eyes. "Guys, knock it off. You both look like idiots."

But his heart was pounding. They could easily do some damage to one another. Or worse, what if Jeff turned on Scott, next?

Zach reached forward, ripping Jeff off of Jax and holding him back.

"Pick up your paddles, idiot. Show's over," Zach called towards Scott.

"No. I get to keep going," Jeff argued, narrowing his already bruising eyes.

Scott froze as Zach let Jeff go. Jeff picked up a paddle, hitting it against his own palm as he approached the blond.

"Pants down, moron."

Scott's eyes darted between Zach and Jax for a moment, but Jax stormed out of the room. So Scott complied, lowering his pants again and shutting his eyes.

23...24...25...26...

But this time, Mitch made sure to watch.

27...

"Jeff, you're doing it again. That's his back." Mitch said, trying to keep his voice strong.

Jeff shot Mitch a glare, and wound up, smacking Scott in the back so hard, he lost his breath.

Zach was silent.

By the thirtieth hit, it was made clear that Jeff had no more intention of hitting Scott where he was supposed to.

The sound of a paddle against someone's back was entirely different than against someone's ass. You could almost hear their spine suffering.

Mitch closed his eyes, unable to look at the pain in Scott's irises anymore, or the tears that had escaped his tear ducts.

Jeff gave his 35th hit, and wound up again.

"One more for being a giant dick."

Jeff threw the paddle down and left the room without another word, and Scott pulled up his pants, biting his bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

"Pick 'em up, pledge," Zach said, but there was no malice in his voice. It almost sounded like sympathy.

Mitch watched as Scott struggled to pick up the paddles, his back clearly injured and making it difficult for him to bend over to collect his discarded pile.

But he returned to his place quietly, sucking the tears back in and ready to recommence holding these torturous things.

"Hey," Mitch said later that night, closing Jax's bedroom door behind him. "Holy shit. He really got you good."

Mitch came closer and eyed the black eye that his big brother was sporting. Jax smiled.

"Jeff looks worse."

Mitch took a seat next to him on the bed and sighed. "He still got to paddle him. Hit him in the back on purpose for the rest of them, too. Scott's moving funny now."

Mitch watched Jax's reaction to this news carefully. He watched as Jax's eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. "Did Zach see that?"

Mitch nodded.