Swamp Murder

Swamp Murder. 62

Zhan's pov.

"Come sit on my cock," I say to Wang. He blushes, oils his ass, and slowly sinks onto me. I suck in a hard breath, my hand sliding over the curve of his back.

"Zhan. Zhan, wake up."

The voice is faint, a hand shaking my shoulder. I jolt awake, my body heavy, the dream still thick in my mind.

I'm in a van. Chained. Wang has a plan, and said we should go back to prison. When dre asked why, he said that was where it all started. And it's the only place we'll find the key. That's how we agreed to go back.

The iron bites at my wrists. I was wheeled out of the prison in a bed, now I'm being dragged back in shackles. A sharp gasp escapes me.

"Are you okay?" Dre whispers beside me.

"Yes. Yeah," I rasp. My voice is raw. "Just... daydreaming."

Across from me, Wang sits quietly, eyes on mine. I want to kiss him. Right then. I want the dream to be real.

I lunge forward, but the chains yank me back. I hiss, not from pain, but from pure frustration. I want to touch him. Kiss him. Fuck his brains out.

The guard next to Wang jerks up, cocking his gun and pointing it at me.

Wang shoots him a filthy glare and calmly pushes the barrel down with his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"No. I'm not," I snap.

"What's wrong?" he says, softer now.

"I don't know. I just... I don't feel right." My breath stutters. My chest tightens. My heart kicks against my ribs. "Kiss me," I whisper.

Wang is beside me in a second. His lips find mine, fast, desperate, but it doesn't help. My body's not calming down.

"He's having a panic attack," Wang growls. "Take off his cuffs. Now."

The cuffs don't come off.

The guards just stare, unmoving, like statues with guns. One glances at the other, waiting for a command, but no one moves. My breath shortens, tight, shallow gulps that don't do shit.

Wang looks furious now. "Did you not hear me?" he barks. "He's fucking spiraling, take off the cuffs!"

Still nothing.

Dre shifts beside me, nervous. "Hey," he says, voice low. "He really can't breathe."

I'm drowning in air. My heart is slamming in my ribs like it's trying to get out. I tug at the chains again, pointlessly, but I need to move. I need...

"Zhan," Wang says, crouching low, eye level with me. "Look at me. Just look at me."

I do. Eyes locked with his. His face is soft now, nothing like the sharp-edged doctor he usually is.

"Follow my voice," he says. "Okay? You're here. You're with me."

My hands are shaking. I didn't even notice until now.

"Take this off," Wang snaps again, this time to the guard beside him. "I don't care what protocol says. I'll take responsibility."

The guard hesitates, then, finally, nods. He pulls out a small key, glances nervously at the guards, then leans forward. Cold metal clicks, and the cuffs fall away.

The relief is instant. I collapse forward into Wang's arms, like gravity finally won. My forehead presses against his shoulder. I breathe his scent.

"I've got you," Wang murmurs, holding me tight. "I've always got you."