Chozen Part 2

By J Paton

With each shocking discovery, the world I once thought I knew turns to chaos. I know not all will walk away from the ensuing fallout. Will I be one of the casualties of the war between good and evil?

The clock is ticking for the Chozen, and the race is on to navigate the maze of lies and deception. The men I have chosen to have my back, may step up to fight, but in doing so they will put their lives at risk.

A raid on the Dom’s Haven goes horribly wrong. In a rain of bullets, tragedy strikes. On the run with a truck full of terrified men, there’s no turning back. That leaves me with only one choice, to uncover the truth. But will it be enough to save them all? To save myself?

Chozen (part 2) is the conclusion of the MM police thriller with multiple twists and turns, where one man leads a security team, their aim to reverse the steps for the Chozen so they can find their salvation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jayne Paton
• Release date: Jul 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9780463138007

J Paton

A writer who wants to make your pulse pound and your head spin!

Book preview

Wren

Giving myself a pep talk and sweating bullets, I opened the door to the police station. Ever since they’d repeatedly come to my home when I was younger due to my mother, police officers had scared me. She would attract every loser from a ten-mile radius, and they’d all bought a bunch of trouble with them. Once she’d starting issuing threats to keep me silent, I was tarred with the same brush, and the police always walked away and left me with her.

I’d learned the hard way that life often sucked worse than a bitter lemon. However, it had taught me some vital lessons, and looking after true friendships was one of them. That meant doing something which had my stomach roiling and bile burning the back of my throat as I met the stern-looking man at the counter’s gaze. Ferron Robertson had been my best friend since year one in school, and that fact hadn’t changed in nearly eighteen years. I wasn’t about to let him down, not when it had been me that had sent him off to the new BDSM club, only for him not to have been seen since. I didn’t have a clue if it was linked to the place, or something else entirely. But I needed to find my friend and make sure he was okay. So that meant coming here and facing this dude.

Here goes nothing!

I licked my lips as I walked over to the counter and stopped, offering a smile I wasn’t feeling.

The man’s gaze remained hard as it swept over me. How can I help you?

Coughing to clear my throat, I brightened my smile. I’d been told before that it was sunny. Maybe it would give this guy a boost. I’m here to report a missing person.

There was a slight eyebrow raise as the man reached for something I couldn’t see under the counter. He asked several questions and I gave him my name, which the guy duly noted down. Who is it that’s missing? And when did you last see them?

That was easy to answer. I hadn’t seen Ferron since sending him off to the club that had been mentioned by some guy, who was more of an acquaintance than friend. He’d been super excited about what Dom’s Haven had to offer, and he’d suggested it was a perfect place for a sub looking to find a long-term Dom. The guy had raved for hours about the place, saying new subs were treated like kings. Thinking that was just what Ferron needed after the disaster I’d helped to create between him and Carl, a Dom at The Playroom who was also the co-owner, I’d pushed him to apply. Ferron and Carl had contracted on a few occasions, and Ferron had mooned over the guy. They’d seemed to have a real connection, which was the reason I’d stupidly encouraged Ferron to approach Carl. Carl had been a complete douche, rejecting Ferron in front of other club members, and it had sent Ferron into a tailspin.

The fact I’d been the one to encourage Ferron to join the BDSM scene and The Playroom was a bit of a downer. I’d recognised that Ferron was just like me—a sub at heart. Explaining all of this to the stern-looking copper though, was going to be difficult. I eyed the man in front of me and stood tall, pushing my shoulders back. The missing person is called Ferron Robertson. And it’s been two weeks since I last saw him. We’re best friends and he hasn’t responded to any of my calls or text messages. It’s not like him. He hasn’t been to work and I’ve been to his house and it’s empty. There’s no one there, and it looks like there hasn’t been for some time, given the post gathering at his front door.

The policeman’s eyebrow was now a little higher than before and he looked… bored. Are you sure he just doesn’t want to talk to you? Maybe he’s taken a trip and hasn’t bothered to tell you.

I huffed out a breath and willed myself not to shrink under the hard stare. He’s not like that. He hasn’t been to work and he hasn’t called in sick or asked for time off. And the club we go to, he hasn’t been there either. I avoided mentioning what type of club it was. Although, it would have to come out as the last place Ferron had gone to. It’s like he’s disappeared. I’ve tried everything to find him. I continued to explain my concerns, the officer writing down the details. But when his lips thinned into a disapproving line at the mere mention of BDSM, I didn’t hold out much hope of him doing much to help.

Was he even aware he was projecting a ‘don’t waste my time’ attitude?

I left half an hour later, the evidence for my theory that they weren’t interested having increased, given all the reasons I’d been provided with why Ferron hadn’t returned my calls. The officer probably thought we were sick, depraved fucks. Those that didn’t understand what we got from the lifestyle were often judgemental in my experience. I’d had previous boyfriends that fell into that category after mentioning what I liked. I was a pain slut who’d struggled for years trying to figure out why I got pleasure from pain, but in the end I’d given up worrying about the whys and wherefores and simply embraced who I was.

Frustration simmered within me as I hurried out of the police station and down the busy streets of London towards work. I worried my lower lip with my teeth while I tried to think about what else I could do. I’d considered talking to Carl, but after the way he’d rejected Ferron, that wasn’t on the cards. Nathan, the other co-owner of The Playroom, was also a no-go due to being best friends with Carl and the likelihood of him sharing whatever I told him.

I ticked off all the noes until I was left with just two options: leave the police to it, or go to Dom’s Haven and see what I could find out. Would the latter be the best option?

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the best thing to do. Once at work, I took a few minutes to go to the website for Dom’s Haven and pull up the application form. I filled it in, pausing at the question which asked for next of kin. When it wouldn’t let me move on, I inputted ‘none.’ I didn’t see why they’d need to know about my useless mother. Form completed, I hit send, tucking my phone away in my locker before heading out to set up the bar for the lunchtime crowd.

***

Days passed, my concern increasing as there was still no word from the police. Therefore, despite my legs aching from eight straight hours of standing, I decided to take Dom’s Haven up on their invite to join a newbie night. The bar I worked in paid well, and the tips were great, so I never complained about the lack of a break to sit down.

My stomach snarled at me as I headed towards a restaurant I often ate at on the way home. I was naturally skinny and could eat anything without gaining weight. This meant that even with my plan to go to the club tonight wearing tight leather or next to nothing, I didn’t need to worry about what I’d look like. I stepped into the divine-smelling fast food restaurant and ordered a burger with everything on it.

While I waited for my order, I dug into my pocket for my phone. The icon for emails showed several new ones, but it was the one I’d received days ago that I opened. There wasn’t much information about what to expect, except for the time I needed to arrive. That was a little odd. I shrugged it off, concentrating on the flutter of excitement that came from being able to figure out what had happened to Ferron.

I grinned, thinking about it in terms of going undercover. Maybe there’d be someone there who could tell me if they’d seen Ferron. Then I could tell the officer where to stick his missing person’s file. I chuckled at the thought as my name was called. Burger in hand, I mentally ran through all the outfits I had and what might be suitable for a first time in a new club.

Three hours later, my excitement had waned as I eyed a building that looked like it had seen better days. The place wasn’t what I’d expected. The pictures on the internet hadn’t shown how rundown it was. The big dude on the door, when he finally decided I could go in, gave off a scary vibe as I passed him. I’d arrived early, only to be forced to watch while others had gone in as I’d been held back. The weirdness of it all made me nervous. When I finally stepped into the foyer, it was empty apart from the sub staffing the front counter. I glanced around, noting that the interior was shabby enough to match the exterior. There was a stale scent, my nerves ramping up another notch.

Oh, this wasn’t good.

Alarm bells started to ring inside my head. Had the guy at the bar been lying about this place? Stop being so pessimistic.

The Playroom was modern and clean. This place… wasn’t. The smell was off-putting to say the least.

The subs demeanour wasn’t helping. It was… scared. He didn’t meet my gaze. In fact, he didn’t even acknowledge me. An itch developed between my shoulder blades. The weird vibe from the place said ‘get the fuck out.’ After years of living with a thoughtless mother, I’d learned to listen to my gut feeling. There was something not right about this place, my concern for my friend increasing.

I clasped my hands together as I was struck by an urgent need to turn around and walk right back out of the door. Or run. Yeah, that seemed like the best idea. I eyed the closed door, my stomach twisting into one huge, painful knot.

Why wasn’t anyone coming in behind me? There’d been other men queueing. I looked back at the silent man. Why is no one else coming through the door? Nothing. He sat like a statue, staring at the floor.

Oh fuck! I took a step backwards, sweat beading on my skin. I hadn’t taken any more than two steps when a door opened to my left, the urge to flee increasing as an unsmiling Dom appeared. His appraising gaze swept me from head to toe, my blood freezing in my veins at the feral grin that followed his scrutiny. He was staring at me like I was a… prize.

I took a step towards the door. Suddenly, this was the last place I wanted to be. I felt like I was prey in the forest, one who was being stalked by a wild animal. The Dom hadn’t moved, but his presence loomed large, the space shrinking more with each passing second.

A shuddery breath left my body as my back hit the closed door. I felt for the handle at my back with a slippery hand. Something sinister passed across the Dom’s face, the action making me unable to exhale despite having just sucked in a deep breath.

Now… where do you think you’re going? the Dom questioned as he reached for me with a meaty hand.

I’m not feeling well. I think I should go, I croaked out past dry lips. I pushed on the handle but it didn’t budge. Oh fuck! My pulse rammed itself into the back of my throat, making it impossible to swallow.

You ain’t goin’ nowhere, he snarled.

Before I could do anything, the Dom launched himself at me, and I was lifted and thrown over his massive shoulder. The air that, only seconds earlier, had refused to leave my chest came out in a noisy exhale with force as I hit the guy’s shoulder. An arm clamped across the back of my legs, pain shooting through me as he swung me around so fast that my head bounced off the wall. White spots appeared in front of my eyes. I blinked, tears dripping onto the floor beneath me.

The scent of cheesy cock enveloping me caused me to balk. Dazed, I started to struggle as it dawned on me that I was in serious trouble. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I knew that if this man managed to cart me off I wouldn’t be able to get out. I shouted for someone to help me!

My frantic gaze went to the man sitting at the desk. His eyes briefly showed sadness and regret before he dipped his head.

Jesus, what was happening here?

I struggled anew, continuing to shout as the Dom hauled me towards the door he’d appeared through. My voice was raw, my heart beating a hard tattoo against my ribs as useless tears fell from my eyes. The last thing I saw as the door closed was the sub’s eyes. They were empty, and I understood that whatever was happening, it wasn’t the first time.

Fear crawled its way through my body to leave me speechless. I was paralysed by the knowledge that I’d walked right into a living nightmare.

Wren

Two Years Later

The pain in my chest was crippling as my lips parted on a silent plea. This couldn’t be happening. Was he an animal too? No. No. No.

My heart fluttered wildly against my painful ribs. Was this a trick? Or had someone heard my prayers and sent him to save me?

You’re not worth saving!

My breath came in short gasps as I blinked slowly, my gaze scouring the room. It was the same as it always was, full of those who wanted to claim my agony as their own. A lone tear rolled down my cheek as whatever part of me had clung on to the idea of being saved, withered and died as I looked at Gabriel.

I held the gaze of the man who’d once been a person I’d have given my soul to for free, because I’d thought he was different. But I’d been wrong. He was a monster too. There was nothing in his expression to change my opinion as he stepped onto the stage, his face a hard, impenetrable mask. I died a thousand painful deaths, each one worse than those inflicted by the monsters in the room, and that was before Gabriel had even laid a hand on me.

How had I got it so wrong? How had I missed that he was no better than the other evil bastards?

A shuddery breath left me as he indicated for ugly fucker to bring me to him. I shut my eyes for a moment in order to gather myself for what was about to come. Only there was nothing left inside me that would help. Seeing this man, in this place, stole the last threads of my sanity. He’d been part of the place I’d go to in my mind. The place where there was pleasure to temper the pain. The place where the sub inside me had found what it was like to be treasured. He’d always given me that when he’d picked me. When he’d chosen me to be his, it had been an honour, if only for a short time.

It was not an honour here. No, this was purgatory.

Breath hissed through my teeth as I was jerked forward. Pain radiated up my arm from ugly fucker’s grip on my forearm. I opened my eyes, stifling my cry as I staggered towards the stairs which led up to the stage. The skin on the soles of my feet stuck to the sticky floor, almost as if it wanted to be helpful and prevent me from moving. A bubble of hysteria rose at the idea of something or someone wanting to help me in this place.

Immy helps you every day.

I clung to that thought until I ached from the effort, the scent of blood, sex and sweat clawing at the back of my throat. I gulped as I took in what was on the stage. There was a metal frame I’d never seen in this place before, but knew what it was used for. It was for Shibari, something this man had a talent for. Once upon a time I’d have been ecstatic to be the one displayed in his ropes, but now, inside me there was only betrayal eating at my heart.

How could he do this? How had no one known he craved the dark? Had he fooled everyone?

He’d fooled me.

The room quietened, the air humming with an air of expectation that pressed against my battered soul. I expected roughness, but the hands that guided me were gentle, causing the pain to cut deeper. What cruelty was this? The treachery hit harder with the knowledge that in another life I’d been touched by this same man. A life where there’d been the promise and anticipation of a future. There was none of that to be found here in hell.

Each gentle touch stabbed at my bleeding heart and I struggled to breathe, to get past what I’d never noticed about this man before.

Ugly fucker came back to help, a reminder that I didn’t deserve to be handled with care. I registered the feel of the rope aggravating wounds that weren’t fully healed. Time spiralled away from me as I was suspended from the frame. I didn’t look at the Dom’s crowding the stage in front of me. Master was there somewhere watching, and his reason for picking me tonight no longer seemed so clear. When he’d met my gaze earlier, I’d been convinced it would be him up here.

The night’s not over yet.

The worrisome thought fled at the deep gutwrenching ache in my lower back as a knot pressed tightly against the area previously damaged by a cat-onine-tails. As if he’d sensed my pain, a hand brushed over my skin as if to calm me.

Was he fucking with me? He had to be. He was here with these bastards.

A sob rose and got stuck in my throat. My vision blurred at what it all meant. It doesn’t matter, you don’t matter, whispered the sly voice.

Another shuddery breath left me as his silence, his actions, condemned him further. The hair hanging around my shoulders was brushed aside with… care. Dear God, why was he tormenting me so? These careful touches after so much violence, were so much worse when I didn’t have any defense against them. Not when they brought back memories of other times.

Ugly fucker was finally dismissed from the stage. He grunted something unintelligible before leaving.

What followed was layer after layer of rope being wrapped around my body. My calves were tied to my thighs, spreading me open for all to see. My lifeless cock hung between my legs, its uselessness there for all to see. They’d done that to me, my humiliation for their pleasure. Would they come and take turns to fuck me?

My arse cheeks were spread apart with the rope without any ability to hide. My arms were pinned behind me in a prayer position, and more knots were positioned in places that caused… No. This time a sob escaped as a long-forgotten feeling started in the centre of my chest. The tiniest sliver of warmth unfurled and I cried out in anguish. How could he do this to me?

The Dom’s inched closer, their hungry gazes leaving me no place to hide.

I shut out their stares. It was too much. It was all too much for my mind to comprehend. Care was a limited commodity, and fake in this place. Therefore, I sank into the cruelty of each caring gesture.

It was fake. Each and every one designed to cripple me. Because why else would he do this to me?

More tears slid silently down my face.

If they’d wanted to use him to break me, they’d succeeded. In the end, it was easier to shut out all the thoughts that tormented me and go to a place where these men couldn’t follow.

Gabriel

Instinct kicked in and I masked my expression. It did little to stop the pain as my gut clenched. I stared at the man I’d thought lost to me.

How the fuck had he ended up down here?

Once I’d thought I’d seen him in the club above, and I’d shared that information, but now I could see I’d been wrong and I must have mistaken someone else for him. We’d suspected long ago that he’d set Ferron up by sending him to this hell hole. Yet as I looked into his tortured face, I could see we’d been wrong. Nathan had given Phil information on the subs who hadn’t renewed their membership and his name had been on it.

Had he been here the whole time?

The resulting anguish was a crushing weight with the knowledge that I’d been here and left him to wallow in this miserable hole.

Fuck it to all hell!

Why did they have to pick him? Why?

There was no escaping the lines of pain etched into his gaunt features. His eyes sat deep in hollows, in an emaciated face that had once been full of life. His eyes held nothing now, except for suffering. I could only imagine what he’d endured from being in this place for so long. It had been a struggle not to drop my gaze to the myriad of scars and open wounds that were red and inflamed. It had taken a strength of will I hadn’t known I possessed to touch him, to inflict yet more pain on his tortured body. It left my innards turning to water, my roiling stomach burning with bile. In another time or place I’d have cut off my own arm rather than inflict harm, but this job had taken that choice away from both of us.

My mouth dried up as I worked to give these men the show they wanted without reacting. And all the while the gun pressed against my ankle and encouraged me to do something I’d never even contemplated before, to commit cold-blooded murder. Although, there’d be nothing cold about it, not with the white-hot rage bubbling under the surface of my skin desperate to make these bastards pay.

I remained silent as I went through each step with gentle touches, hoping I was conveying that I was sorry for what I was doing. His body language told me so much, and it sliced deep at my soul.

An hour later, he was displayed for all to see. My heart got a workout as the man I hadn’t seen up close, Riley’s partner, stepped towards the stage and into the light. It took a herculean effort not to react, my mind running through all the pictures I’d seen of men connected to this case. It took seconds to register who the fucker was.

My eyes narrowed a fraction on the man who had eluded the police, and had evidently found another hole to sink into in order to find pleasure. The suit he wore was expensive, his expression giving nothing away as he met my gaze head-on.

There was something akin to evil—if there was such a thing— in the depths of his stare.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

He stopped at the edge of the steps to take off his suit jacket and hand it over to Riley who’d followed him. He slipped a hand into his pocket and palmed something I couldn’t quite see. There was a brief gleam of metal before his hand fell to his side.

The crowd parted like Moses had raised his arms to the Red Sea. A shuddery breath escaped my chest without my permission as he joined me on the stage. His lips formed into a smile that was dark and dangerous.

The pulse in my neck thumped hard, but it was the only outward sign of my distress. Hopefully.

What was he going to do?

I didn’t have to wait long to find out as he stepped closer to me. His presence filled the stage, undermining my control. My years of training were all that stopped me from stepping back, from showing weakness. When his hand trailed down the ropes covering Wren’s chest, my hands balled into fists.

Wren’s chest heaved and his head fell forward in defeat.

I’ve never considered what Shibari had to offer our community… until now. His deep voice carried, the smile he aimed at the crowd full of pure evil. There were several titters of excitement.

His hand continued to roam over the knots I’d created, pressing them so hard against Wren’s body that the skin turned white and then went mottled. Wren’s moans were full of distress, his face a mask of agony as the ropes swung him to face me, his eyes nailing me to the spot better than a nail gun fired through my boots and into my feet could have done. Whatever care I’d taken had been wiped out by the hands touching him.

He’s displayed like a piece of art. One I feel needs some more decoration.

Air hissed past my locked teeth as he lifted his hand to reveal a macabre-looking cock ring, one that if I was correct had spikes that would dig into the base of the penis. The thing was for masochists, of which Wren wasn’t one. Every muscle in my body quivered with restraint as I eyed the other man, my brain running through all the options. If I jumped in now, I’d reveal my hand. Was that what this was about? Had someone figured out what I was doing here?

I’d been careful. There was nothing to connect me to Wren except The Playroom, and in all the months I’d been coming here I hadn’t once slipped up. Was this some sort of test? I didn’t have an answer to that question, as I didn’t know this sick fuck well enough to be able to judge. However, Tucker would know if I could keep my cool long enough to get out of here and ask him. Only at the moment, I wasn’t sure that was going to be the outcome as I warred with the need to do something—to do anything—to stop what was