Page 8 of His Playmate
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When Diego awoke,there was no collar on him, and he was alone. Touching his neck, Diego didn’t understand why he wasn’t chained anymore. Grimacing, he sat up. Midmorning sun streamed into the bedroom, and he waited in the silence for a moment.
He stood and stretched out his sore muscles. On the bed was a folded white T-shirt and a pair of light grey sweatpants. Wolf must have put them there before Diego had woken up. He shared the same build as Wolf and fit into his clothing with ease.
Diego pressed his ear to the door and couldn’t hear anything on the other side. His fingers curled around the handle, and he pulled the door open. There had to be a reason why Wolf hadn’t locked the door. Diego had expected expressionless guards, but the narrow hallway was empty. This was too easy, like Wolf was permitting his escape.
Tentative and curious, Diego stepped out of the bedroom. He stood on a long rectangular carpet covering the hardwood floor, a chandelier above him.
The interior of the mansion was exquisite, but Diego didn’t want to stay. He found the front door and stepped outside. Diego walked barefoot on patterned cement past groomed trees and shrubbery. He passed a small fountain in the garden and headed to the glossy black gates.
Two burly men from the night before stood by the front of the gate, blocking off Diego’s exit. Before he had a chance to find another way out, they grabbed him and forced him back inside.
They opened the door to Wolf’s office and dragged Diego inside. Wolf sat at his desk and appeared to be signing paperwork.
Diego squirmed, elbowing the guards that were holding him under his arms.
“I didn’t say you could leave,” Wolf said, setting the pen on the desk. He looked at the guards. “Let him go.”
Diego ripped away from the men, watching as they left the room and closed the door behind them. He turned to face Wolf. “Then why did you unchain me?”
“So you could tend to your basic needs,” Wolf said. He pulled the drawer open and placed the documents inside.
There was a pistol on the desk. When Wolf looked at him again, Diego averted his gaze. Why would Wolf leave a weapon out in the open like that? It must be a trick … then again, Wolf might have forgotten about it.
“You can’t keep me here against my will,” Diego said.
“We spoke about this. Return my son to me, then I will let you go.”
“When I get out of here, you’re done,” Diego threatened.
“I’mdone?” Wolf clasped both hands together atop the desk as he watched Diego. “Be careful, pet. Watch what comes out of that mouth of yours.”
“Pet?” Diego narrowed his eyes. “I’m not your fucking pet.”
Wolf smirked, and Diego glared at him.
Diego went to grab the pistol, but Wolf’s hand clasped over his, stopping him from taking the gun.
“You’re predictable,” Wolf said.
It was easy for Diego to kill a man. It didn’t matter who it was. When he was fifteen, he had killed his father with a baseball bat. Blowing Wolf’s head off probably wouldn’t mean anything either. Something in Diego told him to stop, but he didn’t listen.
Jerking back, Diego took the weapon and aimed it at Wolf before he pulled the trigger.
Click, click, click.
Nothing.
Diego’s stomach dropped. It was empty, and he should have expected that. Wolf smiled, and it felt like he was mocking him. Diego slowly lowered the gun, his eyes hard on Wolf. Diego had the pleasure of pointing a gun at Wolf but not of killing him.
Diego put the weapon down and lunged over the desk, grabbing with both hands at Wolf’s collar. He punched Wolf across the cheek, but it wasn’t hard enough to Diego’s liking. Wolf stood and shoved Diego off him.
The office door burst open. Someone restrained Diego from behind. Diego slammed back into a broad chest, elbowing pure muscle. Whoever was behind him was a hard, large man. Diego’s arms were wrenched behind his back. The man kicked the backs of his legs, and Diego buckled forward, dropping to his knees.
Diego growled and looked back into amber eyes. Wolf put the pistol into the drawer and moved away from the desk. Wolf looked furious as he stood before Diego, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. “Keep a hold on him, Rex.”
Wolf punched Diego hard in the face. Diego grunted and swayed from the hit. The throbbing pain spread across his face, and his body tensed, anticipating another blow. Rex yanked Diego back, and Wolf swung at him again. Wolf fisted Diego’s hair, and they made eye contact.
