[THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE THEMES WHICH IS ACCEPTABLE FOR 18+ READERS ONLY]
"Yes?" His deep voice growls. It's so deep, so velvety. I can feel myself getting aroused. Aroused in ways I've never felt before.
"I was told to come and speak to you abou...
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Jackson Blake's POV
I go to move but my body is stiff. My hands are tied behind my back and the cold damp floor is pressing against my body. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on that soft bed at Slater's house. Where am I? Why am I here?
My mind is foggy as I use my elbows to sit myself up. I can feel the grazes on the side of my body as though I'd be tossed here like a sack of potatoes. The darkness surrounds me, the cold air grazing my skin. I'm blindfolded. I shuffle the room, trying to find something, anything that will cut the rope. I get to the edge of the wall and I feel a sharp piece of metal sticking up from the floor. Wrapping my hands between it, I start to rub until I feel the rope loosen more and more and eventually it snaps. I pull the rope away from my hands, freeing myself and removing the blindfold. This has to be another test right?
As my eyes adjust to the brightness in the room, the yellow sunlight pierces through the ripped curtains, the walls a stone grey filled with cracks and torn grim wallpaper. The floors are dusty and filled with rubble. The craving for a cigarette tingles through me, what I'd do to have the smoke fill my lungs and relieve my stress.
I rub my eyes and stand up, my feet hitting the cracked glass and crumbled plasterboard. I'm wearing the same shirt and tracksuit bottoms from last night, my feet only covered by a damp pair of socks. I walk towards the black wooden door, the brass handle is cold beneath my fingertips as I pull it open. To my surprise, it's unlocked. My suspicion rises and I tentatively make my exit.
As I step through the threshold, a flying object narrowly misses my face, my head snaps to where it's landed, finding a sharp object twinkle from the crumbling plaster of the wall. A knife. Three men stand on the opposite side of the room, knives in hand. One of them lunges towards me, his hand swinging up as he tries to stab my stomach. I block him with my forearm against his, swinging my leg and booting him in the ballsack. He groans, his knees crumbling as I smack the knife from his hand and roundhouse kick him to the jaw.
As the first attacker lays unconscious on the floor, the second comes towards me, swinging the knife towards my face. I catch his wrist and kick the knife out of the hand of the third attacker. The second attacker ducks under me, unclamping his arm from my grasp. He lunges for me, but I dodge his attack and instead deliver a firm punch into the third attacker's stomach.
Sidestepping the unconscious body, attacker three goes to throw a punch, the knife he once had has since collided to the floor on the other side of the room. I duck and deliver another punch to his stomach. Attacker two has picked himself from the floor and as he goes to punch me, I clasp his wrist, and in a firm swipe, a crack sounds the room as the bone breaks. He bellows in pain, falling to his knees and cradling his injured arm. The third attacker lunges and I swing a right hook to the side of his face, followed by a jab to the nose. He falls back, the world around him turns dark as he falls into unconsciousness.
