“I hate you,” Colt hisses from between clenched teeth when he can finally speak. Anger rolls off him in white hot waves I can almost see as clearly as I can see the new set of bruises forming around his throat. I’d feel bad about the gift, except . . . he’s such a little shit. Already, he’s asking for more the only way he knows how. I’ll give him all I’ve got, plus some. My gaze shifts to the clock. “I’ve still got plenty of time to fuck your throat, little brother. Be nice, or the next time I…