The Ranch Ch. 05

"Sorry, Mark," he said under his breath, getting a grip on the metal, ready to drag him at a much faster pace than he anticipated, "but I'm in a real hurry to get back."

*****

"Katie?" Cory called, his fingers bleeding as they worked at the screw keeping one end of the bar attached to the railing. She didn't answer, but he could hear her sniffling.

"Katie, we're getting out. In a few minutes my hands will be free. Well, still cuffed, but-"

"What about your feet?" Katie interrupted him numbly, knowing Greg would have restrained him completely.

"Well," Cory looked at the black bag on the table by his bed, "there's a small chance I'll have something to work with."

Katie was curled up, covering her face with her hands, trying to take her mind to another place. Being naked and humiliatingly abused had taken its toll, and thinking about what Greg was planning to do when he came back only filled her with more exhausting hysteria. She was also thoroughly embarrassed, ashamed that Cory had heard every graphic detail.

Sliding his cuffs over the metal, scraping off the end of the dislodged bar, Cory twisted to the side and grabbed the black bag, emptying the contents onto the bed.

"What. A. Fucking. Creep." Cory ground out each word in disbelief, his stomach turning as he browsed the items. They weren't dirty utensils from a horror-movie basement, they were quality, in good condition. Rubber tubes, various metal implements, two different-sized taser guns, a large, empty syringe. One item caught his particular interest - a small hacksaw. Cory had used a hacksaw on his farms, and he knew that if Greg was a tight-ass with his torture kit, it might not work on the cuffs. Looking closely at it, he doubted Greg scrimped on his purchase.

It had been almost twenty minutes since Greg had left them, and Cory was free. Though feeling a little weak from the drug and his injuries, he didn't hesitate to rip the orange the curtain from the ceiling pipeline and rush to Katie's side. It broke his heart to see her naked, miserably curled on her side, and he brushed her hair back, gently moving her hands from her face so he could work on her cuffs.

As soon as her hands were free, Cory shed his bloodied shirt and dressed her in it. Then he went back to his bed and picked up the black bag, hurriedly adding the items to it. The light coming from the walls seemed to make Katie's green eyes glitter strangely as she watched Cory rush to the door and try it. It was locked.

"This won't be a problem," Cory said grimly, tossing the bag over this shoulder, and signalled for Katie to come to him. Snapping out of her shock, her dark hair fell over her face as she gingerly clambered off the bed, wrapping his shirt about her and scurried to his side.

It only took two kicks before the door, along with a third of the thin metal wall, collapsed. The sky outside showed signs of being in the beginning stages of sunset as the sun's rays began to glow orange. Cory knew if he headed toward the sun, it should take him in the direction of the ranch, but once the sun set, he would have absolutely no idea. Without a word, Cory gathered Katie's tired body into his arms and, ignoring the sharp stabbing pains in his chest as she curled against him, carried her to safety for the second time.

After a while, Cory began to recognise their surroundings. They weren't far from the ranch. Arms aching, Cory set Katie down, gently lowering her to the ground as her legs gave way. His shirt almost reached her knees, and she curled them to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Cory crouched down in front of her, grimacing as his sore chest contracted when he bent over.

"Katie," Cory said gently, "I have to go back."

"No," she whimpered, "don't leave me."

"I have to go back," he repeated, cupping her face and tilting it to look into her eyes. "He could have Mark, and I made Greg a promise. It won't take you long to get to the ranch from here, just follow the track. There will still be staff around, and they'll call a doctor."

"I don't want to go to a hospital," Katie trembled.

"We have a doctor who doesn't live far from here. He's on call exclusively for the ranch. He's a very nice man, and he will be discreet."

"What if Greg gets you again?" she whispered, eyes wide.

"Well, at least he won't get you. You'll have a good head-start," he told her. Though he was weak, he had been fuelled with survival-instinct adrenaline, and a thirst for revenge. "I have to go back. It's better this way. Better to take him by surprise than wait for him to surprise us."

"Don't leave me, Cory, please," she wept, reaching up to keep his hand on her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Katie," Cory answered with regret, gently but firmly withdrawing his hand. "I have to. I need to know Mark's ok. Here," he took the large taser from the bag and slipped it into his pocket, then placed the bag in her hands, "keep this as evidence."

Dropping a quick kiss to her top of her head as he stood, when Katie looked up again, she was alone.

*****

Mark's crumpled form had been left on the ground as Greg stalked about the shack, consumed by a seething fury. He paced back and forth, wildly running both hands through his hair. His dark eyes flashed with insanity as he gazed about, as though he was hallucinating, refusing to comprehend the catastrophic failure his plans had reached.

Though Greg still had Mark, it wasn't very comforting. He had lost Cory and Katie. It was as though he'd taken an ill-advised chess move and lost his queen to gain a pawn. His ego painfully smarted after all the bragging to Cory about how no one ever escapes him. In his disturbed mind, he could see Cory laughing at him. And, to add insult to injury, his beloved tool-kit was gone, with all their associated delicious memories.

Mark roused with a start as Greg had a complete fit, screaming and stamping and throwing things about in a blind rage. Mark should have been unconscious for at least another half hour, but the exact moment the dart had hit, adrenaline and suspicion already raised by Marco's death, he'd instinctively pulled it out without hesitation, affecting the sedative's application.

Drowsily blinking around him, Mark's navy eyes unsteadily focused on Greg's moving form as he dashed about the room, naked chest heaving with guttural sounds, overturning the beds and small tables, picking up a discarded shower curtain and ripping it up. Mark watched in bemusement as Greg punched himself in the face a few times.

Mark's clothes were torn and muddy, his body ached all over, cut and bleeding. Limbs feeling weighed down, Mark knew he was in no state to challenge Greg, and decided to pretend he was still unconscious, which wouldn't be hard. Though deeply concerned by the blood on Greg's chest, Greg's agitation gave Mark reassurance that Cory and Katie were safe, for now at least. Though he was drugged and cuffed, at a deadly disadvantage, Mark fought to keep a straight face as he recognised his judgement of Greg's character was spot-on - Greg was a careful planner, and evidently, all of his careful planning had just turned to shit.

*****

About fifteen minutes later, Mark opened one blue eye as Greg impatiently jabbed him with the rifle.

"How long have you been faking?" Greg questioned coldly, crouched in front of him.

"Not long," Mark answered, with his trademark cheeky half-smile.

"Careful, Mark," Greg cautioned, dark eyes flaring. "I might slice your lips right off your face, and make you eat them."

"That won't bring back your escapees," Mark shrugged his broad shoulders drowsily, not feeling as weak as he made out. His limbs still felt a little heavy, but he was quickly regaining his strength.

"I'll get them back," Greg bared his teeth at the reminder of his blunder. "And next time I won't be so gentle when I fuck Katie's ass." He cheered up a little as Mark stiffened, the arrogant smile wiped from his face.

"Oh, not you too," Greg exclaimed, entertained by the fierce rage in Mark's blue eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked incredulously, slightly straightening in his amazement. "First Dom, then Cory, now you. Does Katie have a magic voodoo pussy, or what? Not that I didn't love it, but I'd better pay more attention next time, I must have missed something," he laughed.

Sobering as he recalled Katie was currently out of his reach, his cock twitching at the memory of degrading her, Greg exhaled heavily and narrowed his eyes at Mark. "Surely by now..." he murmured thoughtfully, and reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Looking at the screen, his eyes widened.

"Fuck!" he shouted suddenly, scrambling to his feet. Greg's perimeter had been crossed, the alert had sounded when another censor triggered, but he never heard it over the raucous of his tantrum. This was fast turning into the worst day of his life.

"You can't handle it, can you?" Mark observed lightly.

"What?" Greg's attention left his phone as he stared menacingly down at Mark.

"When you royally screw up," Mark grinned. He was temporarily winded as Greg's boot forcefully swerved into his abdomen. "Ow," he gasped faintly, curling over.

"I thought Cory was a bit bland," Greg spat, again swinging his rifle over his shoulder and heading for the door, "but I miss him already. I prefer his company to yours. I don't like your sense of humour. I don't like you at all."

"The feeling's mutual," Mark winced into the floor as Greg stomped to the large gap in the wall where Cory had kicked through. As Greg reached it, he turned back to Mark.

"You have no idea how sorry you're going to be," he said softly, raising the rifle to give Mark a second dose. Taking in Mark's aghast expression, he grinned. "I watched you pull out the dart, Mark. We both know you can go another round. Goodnight, see you in the morning."

Mark started in surprise as Greg seemed to throw himself at him, landing right in front of his stunned face, frantically shuddering like a newly caught fish. Following the cords attached to his bare back, Mark gaped up at Cory, also shirtless and covered in blood.

"Jesus!" Mark said in both horror and disbelief.

Cory tried to smile, but it contorted into a grimace. "That's not my name, but I'll take it," he replied heavily, swaying a little, obviously exhausted. His gold-coloured eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as he hit the taser again, making Greg jump against the floor.

"Cory! Cuffs!" Mark tried to get his attention as Cory staggered towards Greg and viciously kicked him in the balls. "Cory!" Mark yelled in alarm, trying to wriggle backwards and reduce his proximity to Greg, as Cory pressed the taser repeatedly. "We don't want to kill him!"

"Yes. We. Do!" Cory ground out, kicking Greg in the nuts with every word. His bloodied chest heaved with his exertion, and sweat ran down his temples.

"Stop, you macho fool!" Mark shouted. Cory awkwardly swung around and looked down at him fiercely.

"You don't know!" he panted heatedly, pointing at Greg's writhing form. "You don't know what he did to Katie!" he shouted, twisting to kick Greg in the ribs.

"Cory," Mark insisted, raising his cuffed hands, "he's done. Come on, get me loose."

Cory stumbled and almost landed on top of Greg's unconscious form as he bent over him, reaching into his pockets. A number of darts clattered to the floor as he tossed them aside and located the key.

"Hope one size fits all," Cory muttered, and the key danced around the keyhole of Mark's cuffs as his hands shook.

"Is she ok?" Mark couldn't resist asking about Katie.

Cory shook his head grimly. "Not really, but she's safe." He cast a glance at Greg. "We should kill him, Mark. I mean it."

"You're not thinking straight," Mark advised him, tossing the cuffs aside, wincing at the stabbing pain in his wrists.

"No, I am," Cory grunted, "if we kill him, no one will say 'boo'. They won't want to investigate it, he's not even a real cop. His background connections would come out. They'll make up a cover story."

"No," Mark replied firmly, thinking he'd better wait a while to tell him about Marco.

"We should, seriously," Cory argued, "the guy is a menace. We'd be doing humanity a favour."

Mark stood unsteadily, looking down at Cory. "You might have killed him already. Come on," he offered, holding out a hand.

Cory grasped Mark's hand and pulled himself up. Evidently Mark wasn't as strong as he'd thought, because as soon as Cory was up and leaning against him, they both collapsed together.

"Jesus, Cory," Mark muttered under his weight, "at least take me to dinner first."

For the first time in the last few hours, a twisted grin broke across Cory's face. "I love you, Mark," Cory declared. And it was true, only Mark could make him laugh in their current situation.

"Yeah, yeah," Mark grunted, rolling him off, not man-enough to tell him the feeling was mutual. "Let's save this gay moment for when we've had a few." Mark looked down at Cory's blood smeared across his shirtfront and sat up on his elbow, inspecting Cory's chest. "Is it bad?"

"I don't know," Cory confessed wearily. "I'm running on rage." He picked up the taser and pressed it again, and Greg's limp form trembled.

"Cory!" Mark said warningly, reaching to take the taser from Cory and turn the safety on.

"At least let me cut his dick off," Cory argued, inching toward Greg.

Mark paused for a moment as he genuinely considered Cory's suggestion. "No..." he sighed with regret, "lets restrain him. Let him explain himself to his fellow men when they find him. They can't all be dirty, and even if he gets away with it, he'll have questions to answer. The spotlight will be on him, and he'll hate it. So would Dom's dad."

Cory looked at Mark quickly. "How did you know?"

"Marco told me," Mark replied sadly.

"But how-" Cory began, but Mark cut him off.

"Not now," he pointed to Greg. "Lets tie up this turkey."

*****

True to Cory's word, Gerard was a very kind, compassionate man. Though retired, he was employed as the ranch's personal doctor, in the event of emergencies. It was a very rare occasion where he needed to attend a sprained ankle or suspected heart-attack, but nonetheless he was always available, and paid well for it. Only 40, he was a very intelligent man, but had been forced into early retirement after exposing his superior for sexually abusing vulnerable, mentally-deficient patients. As a result, a number of patients were spared from relentless degrading abuse, but whistleblowing was not an admired trait in Gerard's workplace. After discrediting a very distinguished representative of the hospital, he'd been pushed out of his job, and quickly discovered that the integrity of his actions caused him to be received by potential employers as welcomingly as a leper. Though he'd loved his job, he never regretted his actions, but it didn't change the fact he was awfully bored a lot of the time.

When he had been called to attend to Katie, though he didn't show it, he was justifiably horrified. Taking in her exquisite features, he immediately assumed what the nature of her injuries would be. His diagnosis wasn't wrong as he discovered she had been drugged, and there was substantial evidence of a brutal sexual assault, though the damage wasn't severe. Katie wouldn't tell him anything - how it happened, who did it, what was done. He'd had to gently figure out what he could from the clues on her body.

What disturbed him most was that she had been hysterically adamant that the police not be called. Reluctantly he'd backed off, not wanting to agitate her further by pressing the point, also aware that since she wasn't underage, he couldn't report the rape on her behalf and he couldn't force her to report it herself. He remained at the ranch to attend to her, waiting for Cory and Mark to return. As the minutes passed, Katie's panic mounted and Gerard might have sedated her if he had any idea what she had been drugged with previously. As it was, he couldn't take the risk. Deeply disturbed by both the mystery and the nature of the scandal that had never touched the ranch previously, he was just as anxious as she was to speak with Cory and Mark.

*****

In the dark, it took Cory and Mark well over two hours to stumble back to the ranch. Leaning on each other, it was difficult to determine who was weaker. Mark was definitely stronger, but he was more recently drugged. Though Cory's dose had worn off, he had lost a bit of blood. They joked, they hoped, and they bantered about which direction to take as they unsteadily navigated through the dark woodland. Neither mentioned Katie, though both of them thought about her constantly.

Cory had taken Mark to task for not bringing a gun, and Mark was surprised by his lack of foresight in failing to arm himself. It wouldn't have made a difference, Greg would have disarmed him, but still, he again realised how emotionally affected he had been in his negligence. His instincts had been numbed with the fear of his potential loss, and he had consequently allowed Marco to take charge when he'd normally have taken the lead, and now Marco was dead.

Eventually they found the horse trail, and slowly continued their weary home-run. Staggering along with their arms supportably about each other's broad shoulders as though they'd just finished a drunken night out, it wasn't until they approached the well-lit ranch that Mark inquired about Katie.

"What happened back there? What did he do to her?" he asked.

Cory exhaled heavily. "I didn't see," he muttered, "he didn't cut her, but it was bad."

"How bad?" Mark persisted.

"He-He..." Cory stuttered, unable to bring himself to finish the sentence. "He did everything to her."

"But Dom-" Mark protested.

"He authorised it," Cory said disgustedly. "He wanted Greg to do it, so she'd be more receptive to him."

"You know," Mark panted tiredly, "I feel like such a shit for what I did that first night."

"You didn't know," Cory tried to comfort him.

"I know," Mark replied, "but it doesn't change it. Imagine what she'd been through, and then...I did that."

"Well..." Cory also panted from his exhaustion, "you're not the only one."

"What?" Mark ejaculated, pausing. When he'd suddenly stopped, Cory fell forward, flat on his face. The gravel aggravated his chest injury, and he quickly rolled onto his back, groaning. "What do you mean?" Mark demanded, hovering over him.

"Well..." Cory's head knocked back against the gravel. "She paid me a visit, and we got into it. But after you came by, I didn't exactly take 'no' for an answer."

Mark gingerly bent over, his abdomen tender from Greg's kick, and leaned on his knee with one hand and reached out with the other. "You motherfucker," he swore, both disgusted and jealous. He grasped Cory's hand and unsteadily heaved him to his feet. "Can't say I'm any better, but if you weren't half-dead, I'd knock you out."

"I felt terrible after," Cory sighed, then he cast Mark a wry glance. "Though you really screwed me over by showing up," he said dryly.

"I don't know Cory," Mark confided as they entered onto the gravelled driveway, "sometimes I can't decide whether she's the victim, or if we're the ones being played."

*****

For a man over 50, George was quite tall. He strongly resembled his son - dark, curling hair and olive, swarthy skin. Fierce, brutal, black eyes. But unlike his son, George's mannerisms were calmly confident, only those close to him could decipher the tense rage his body emitted when he was displeased. Those who witnessed demonstrations of this rage in full-force rarely escaped its presence unscathed. Dom had inherited his fathers temper, but not his control over it.

Right now, George was extremely displeased. One of his best henchmen was missing, and his son had been beaten to a pulp over a woman. He had dismissed the nurse and was now slowly pacing the luxurious bedroom that housed his battered son, who stared in sullen silence out the tall glass windows overlooking an immaculately green lawn the size of a schoolyard. The bruising on his once handsome face was still pretty bad - blue and purple crater-patterns covered his whole forehead and cheeks. His broken nose was in a splint, and he was missing several teeth.