Made to Suffer (Journeyman Book 3) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. All Rights Reserved.

  In accordance with the United States Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, or sharing of any part of this work without the permission of the copyright holder is unlawful theft of the

  author’s intellectual property.

  Cover Model: Jacob Wilson

  Cover Photography and Design: FuriousFotog

  Editor: Kellie Montgomery

  Formatting: Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  This book is for mature readers only. Not for children. It contains adult themes, violence, coarse language, sexual situations, nudity, and paranormal themes.

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Other books by Golden Czermak

  Main Cast of Characters

  Eric, there are days that are hard, days that are easy, days that are sad, and days that are mad. Regardless of what day the morning ushers in, I find myself blessed. Not only to be alive and breathing, but with you by my side. Over the past 18 years, we’ve certainly had our fair share of the days above, no one in particular outweighing the others. But through adversity, our diversity of personality and character have helped us weather the tough and bask in the glory of the good.

  Thank you. It’s a small phrase carrying big meaning yet oftentimes goes unsaid. Know that I wouldn’t be where I am today in life, career, or even health without you. So I thank you, for everything, and those words can’t express it enough. Another small phrase that means the world: I love you. Not only for the past 18 years, but for the next. <3

  We are halfway there, at least for the main series, and none of it would have been possible without your help.

  Caylan, our relationship continues to flourish because we are so much alike in many aspects of our lives. Hell, I think we subconsciously think the same thoughts at the same time more often than we think. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being such a loyal and true friend. You mean a lot to me sir, I think that is evident in a lot of things, but through you I was able to bring Gage to the world… and for that I am forever thankful.

  Jake, what the heck can I say that I haven’t said before or in posts online? You sir are one of a kind. Someone that has been a friend, family member, and so much more since I first started that crazy idea of the FuriousFotog / FuriousArmy branding. Our bond is a tight one, and true. As THE original #InkedCorps member, you have always had my back and I’ll always have yours… even though it is covered in way more ink and looks so much better; except for my Christmas tree. Lol. Much love brother, always #JG1.

  The Crew – can’t say much more than your support is invaluable. Thank you for welcoming me into your fold. ;)

  Joshua, you have been around since the days of old, being one of the first custom book cover shoots way back in the day. Now look at where we are, somewhere totally unseen for sure! I did always want to have you as a character in a book I wrote and you are the perfect match for Brandon.

  RJ, the progenitor of the TankCorps! Ever since knowing you I've been killing myself in the gym, always trying to be that mini-RJ. I know, I know, time is the key. I'm impatient though so need extra gains! Thank you for all you've done for me over the years to make me that much better a person.

  Matthew, I've known you probably the shortest time out of all the Journeymen but you've fast become a true and reliable friend. Totally blessed by your presence in my life, so can't wait to see where that road leads. PS… Your smile makes me swoon. Lol. #MERICA

  THE ODYSSEY SAILED smoothly over an endless sea of clouds that warm November dawn. Curls of fluffy white vapor tickled at her sixteenth century keel while the sun cast a brilliant orange swath across the Eastern horizon.

  A young man exited a door on the quarterdeck, scratching at his behind. He took a sharp turn starboard, making his way toward the guardrails lining that side of the ship. Wearing a pair of gray, form-fitting joggers and nothing much else, his bare feet felt hints of a gentle sway while his ears took in the familiar groans from the aged wood. He reached his destination and yawned not-so-gracefully, resting an inked elbow on the long strip of timber as his muscles soaked up the growing sunlight like a sponge.

  You should have nabbed some orange juice from the galley, or better yet some coffee, Joey scolded himself, groggy while imagining some of that pitch black heaven in a cup. He could even taste it as another yawn crept up on him. Yup, you definitely should have. Gonna be struggling all day, but at least you'll be able to show Marcus around the workshop.

  Blissful quiet was all around him, a long overdue moment of peace amidst the sheer roller coaster ride of the past couple of days. If encountering demons and monsters on a daily basis weren’t enough, portals to other realities and dealing with one’s own personal feelings – shifting more often than gears at a NASCAR race – lent themselves to extreme exhaustion.

  As such, he shut his eyes, closing off the world only for a second. Ah, Joey time at last… but as usual, a second was about all it lasted.

  He glanced down through narrow slits at his moaning stomach, but his upset look quickly disappeared when he noticed his abs were looking tight in the cresting light. Rubbing across them, deliberately slow, he raised a corner of his mouth.

  Now, if only they looked like that all the time, he thought, looking back out to the serene blue vista. As he played with his hair, black strands billowed loosely in front of his eyes. Through them a majestic eagle caught his attention, soaring gracefully in the distance yet keeping good pace with the ship.

  Maybe Marcus was right: his hair was getting a tad long, now creeping along past his chin. It must’ve been noticeable for Marcus to even mention it, being sure to point that out last night when they were… getting to know each other better.

  Speaking of his newfound companion, the sly dog had managed to sneak up behind Joey as he continued to watch the bird. Undetected, he quickly wrapped a sturdy arm up and over Joey’s chest, pulling to close the gap between them.

  “Jesus man!” Joey exclaimed, followed by a light chuckle as Marcus kindly pushed aside those dangling ebony hairs. His fingers lingered.

  “A bit lost in thought are we?” Marcus replied, his deep voice sending vibrations throughout Joey’s body.

  “Maybe,” was the nonchalant response, “or maybe not. In any case, leave it to you to be such a big distraction, Sheridan.”

  “Oh, I’m getting the last name treatment, eh? I must be in some kind of trouble.” Marcus smirked, gently tracing his fingers along the musical notes tattooed on Joey's pec while nestling his thick beard on his shoulder blade. “I think I like being in trouble with you, Mosely, punishments and all.”

  Joey couldn't disagree; he liked Marcus’ forms of punishment too.
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br />   That's when he felt something pushing hard against his ass, that same something straining against Marcus’ jeans, all the while teasing. Had he not already discovered it last night, that feeling was evidence enough that distractions weren’t the only big things about Marcus. He didn’t just have length, but also a good amount of thickness and that fact won Joey over. Hell, Marcus’ scent – seductive and damn near irresistible – nearly led Joey to more discovering right there on deck. But as always, Marcus had something else in mind.

  Spinning him around and making sure their fronts touched, Joey’s brown eyes found themselves sinking deeply into the pools of Marcus’ sky colored ones. Both found themselves at ease, despite the swelling torment below their waistlines.

  “That's a much better view,” Joey told him, refraining from looking down though his eyes definitely wanted to. Instead, he admired Marcus’ short dirty-blonde hair, slightly reddish in the light. A cheesy grin appeared on his face, broadcasting Joey’s feelings like a billboard.

  Marcus read it well. “I don't look nearly as good as some other things do,” he replied with an equally large smile, leaning in for a kiss. Their lips met and through the soft prickle of beards the taste of Joey’s chapstick was quite distinct, both wishing the exchange wouldn't end.

  Even the sudden smell of burning wood couldn’t separate them…

  …or perhaps it could.

  Joey’s nose curled as he got whiffs of the odor. “What the heck?” he asked sharply, pulling back then turning to hang slightly off the side of the deck. He was looking for any signs of a fire, but didn’t see a thing. “Do you smell that?”

  Marcus could indeed, nodding as he rushed back toward the center of the deck to look around himself. Scanning the area, there wasn’t anything burning and the smell, continuing to grow, was more powerful than any Gage-induced galley accident would have amounted to. Perplexed, he quickly rejoined Joey just as the distant eagle screeched, taking a dive into the foamy white as patches of dark murk corrupted the cloudscape.

  “Shit!” Joey shouted before getting frenzied. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  “What?” Marcus asked, highly concerned by Joey’s attitude and with the look on his face. He hadn’t known him for that long, but that expression was one anybody could recognize, deep with worry. “J, stop for a second. What is it?”

  Apparently Om Citta had taken notice from the navigation room, the ship suddenly lurching down into the smoky gloom. All around them the sunlight faded away, eaten by the blackness as the vessel rocked violently from the turbulence of their quick descent.

  “I knew it!” Joey yelled, holding onto the rail as the feverish bouncing continued. “I just knew something felt off earlier!” He shot a stern look over to Marcus. “It’s the Lodge!”

  Marcus stared right back at Joey, the jostling starting to subside, and was perturbed by the amount of sweat pouring off his partner’s brow.

  Sporadic flashes of light peeked through the gray haze just before the Odyssey broke through into clear air. As the craft stabilized, both men saw the burnt out remnants of formerly grassy hills and trees racing by underneath them. Miles upon miles of land had been burned to a crisp while large columns of smoke rose up high.

  This was the aftermath of something great, powerful, and terrible.

  “What the fuck happened here?” Marcus asked under his breath as he took in the desolate sights, barely able to comprehend the sheer scale of it. As he looked on, he wondered if there had been people around when this happened and the sad reality of damage covering an area this size struck him like a knife to the heart: there had to be some, more than likely many.

  Tears started to flow out of Joey’s eyes as they continued through the bleak surroundings. Sailing over what looked like shattered pieces of metal, they gleamed faintly in the smoldering light of dwindling fires. It was the barrier that had once surrounded the property.

  Once surrounded…

  The very thought of that punched him in the guts. No longer would it ever protect anything again – the last traces of work his dad had done swept away in an instant.

  Oh God… the workshop!

  A comforting hand found its way onto Joey’s shoulder, startling him at first. “Marcus,” he said with a sigh, still looking out to the barren wastes. “It’s gone. I just can’t…”

  A familiar voice cut him off; it wasn’t Marcus.

  “J,” said Gage’s voice, heavy and somber. Squeezing tightly, he rubbed his large thumb around to ease his buddy’s tension. “I know this feeling too goddamn well. Seems our trio has a knack for losing homes.”

  Adrienne strode up to the three of them as well, saying nothing as she moved over to Joey’s left. Looking about the shadowy landscape herself, she wrestled Joey’s hand off the rail and shaking, clasped her own around it. As more tears streamed out of him, she couldn’t help but shed some as well, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her free arm.

  They all watched as the Odyssey continued on her way toward the place their home and workshop once stood. The signs did not look good – massive chunks of debris began to pepper the landscape, ash belching out from the piles. A monstrous pillar of thick smoke loomed ahead and the familiar path of their driveway led right into it.

  “Brace yourselves for a little bit of a bump,” advised Marcus, grabbing Joey’s arm while latching onto the rail with his other hand. Adrienne and Gage stepped up to each other and followed suit, just as the ship plowed through the dark wall. There was a single jolt and then they were through.

  The Lodge and Joey’s Supernatty Funhouse were not there to welcome them home; both had been utterly destroyed. Instead, the melancholy sight of burning rubble greeted them.

  MARCUS WALKED CLOSELY behind Joey as they plodded along a narrow path, the ground crunching beneath their feet. To their left was a lean-to, an axe propped against the structure though it had seen much better days. The wood once stored underneath had been seared away, leaving an ashen pile with glowing motes twirling just above.

  Though Marcus didn't want to take his eyes off Joey, he briefly turned his head over his shoulder. Looking back up the hill, he saw Gage and Adrienne approaching a tremendous pile of splintered wood and metal that he assumed was the main house. The Odyssey loomed overhead like an alert guard dog as he and Joey walked down a hill toward another pile of rubble, though this one was smaller, flames still lapping strongly across the heap.

  Joey had stopped just ahead, taking in the scene. Marcus hadn’t noticed and crashed into him, sending both toppling into the soot.

  “My bad, J,” Marcus apologized after a catching his breath. He proceeded onto his feet, dusting what little he could off his clothes. Everything was coated in a thin layer of gray, so he really wasn’t doing anything other than shifting the grime.

  Joey didn’t get up, staying put on the ground. Shifting off his knees, he took a seat directly on the dirt and kicked out his legs.

  Marcus didn't like the vibe he was getting at all. “Babe,” he said gingerly, this being the first time he ever used that term with anyone in his life, “are you alright?”

  He knew better of course, asking was just a nicety.

  “The stack of shit right there?” Joey answered, pointing right at the smoldering pile before waving his hand around. “I was gonna show you around all of that.”

  Marcus took a closer look at the debris, now able to pick out hints of a workbench or two, some bladed weapons, and what might have been a weight bench, though it was hard to discern. The fires that were still burning came from some of swords, as if they were aflame from within, along with stones and trinkets scattered all over the floor. Off to the side, he spotted a couple damaged wards carved into stray pieces of broken lumber, spitting out sparks and flames from their markings.

  Grabbing at his ear bar piercing as he always did when mulling over his thoughts, Marcus supposed this could be an after effect of the blast that struck the Lodge, transforming everything that had once been magical into the
mundane. That would be preposterous though, as no such method existed.

  “That building was our gym,” Joey continued, talking in low tones barely loud enough to hear, “and also my workshop. I had coined a stupid little name for it, since I liked tinkering and playing with all sorts of crazy supernatural shit in there.”

  “The JSF right? I recall you telling me about it over dinner. It’s not stupid, J,” Marcus said in an attempt to reassure his crestfallen companion. “It’s –”

  “It may not be stupid, Marcus,” Joey broke in, “but it's all gone now, so none of it matters anymore.”

  Those words…

  A moment from Marcus’ past flickered then flared to life, and he saw himself with his younger brother, Ty, sitting before a tombstone adjusting his glasses before running a hand through his long blonde hair. Emblazoned on the dank rock were two names: Theodore and Martha Sheridan. To the both of them: Mom and Dad.

  None of it matters anymore, does it? Ty’s words rang out over five years of history.

  Marcus shook his head, snapping himself out of it. He looked down to Joey and sighed, thinking of extending an offer to use the work areas up at HQ, but reconsidering. Now was not the time. Somewhat at a loss, Marcus didn't do anything more to cheer Joey up, instead just standing beside the young man in silence as he dipped his head into his hands and wept.

  Back up at the remnants of the main house, Gage and Adrienne didn’t see anything much different, shaking their heads in disbelief.

  “Whelp,” Gage said, looking at a flaming symbol on what had once been the front door. “Whatever hit this place was obviously powerful; too powerful if ya ask me.”

  Adrienne nodded in sad agreement, stepping forward to pick up a small dagger, one of several that had been thrown over from the workshop. Examining it, the single ward on the blade was melting. “I was thinking the same thing when we first saw the damage,” she agreed, a hint of unease lurking in her words. “No way is this even possible, right? I mean, the amount of warding we had in place… the spells… all of it didn't amount to shit against this.” Her mind raced with questions and scenarios. “Do you think the Noctis finally breached a Vault?”