Martin shoved a full bottle of scotch in front of him. "That's for you, sugar. A little anesthetic. Drink up."

Cody's smile wavered. "Thanks, no — I never drink anything that strong."

"No skin off my nose," Martin shrugged. "But you're gonna need it."

"What's he mean by that, J?" Cody's eyes held a sudden guarded look.

"It's OK, Codelicious. Just do what he asks," Jonathan felt his face might crack from the smile he forced. "It won't take long."

Staring at him in disbelief, Cody pushed back from the table. "I don't know what the game is tonight, J, but count me out." He rose, pulling his shirt back on. "I'm getting a cab home."

"Cody, don't …" Jonathan pleaded, but it was already too late.

Colin slid in behind Cody and forced an arm behind his back cruelly, a hand over Cody's mouth to stifle any outcry. Fire flashed in Cody's eyes and he kicked back hard. His boot connected with a solid thud against Colin's kneecap. He twisted and writhed trying to free himself while Colin swore and tightened his grip. All the while his eyes were fixed on Jonathan who stared hard at the floor.

"Not a very good little bitch, is he?" Martin rasped while Colin forced Cody back in his chair. "You trying to pull something here, weasel?"

Jonathan fought not to squirm under that cold stare. "No, man, I told you —he likes it kinda rough."

Martin laughed, an unpleasant breathy sound. "What a coincidence. So do I."