Room 328, Sunday Afternoon

If Tom were to say that he'd never had dreams about being tied up in bed, he would certainly be lying. But those dreams usually involved a gorgeous naked woman or two, not some crazy, freaky guy claiming to be his brother, and swearing that this was all for his own good. He was almost glad that Owen had seemingly disappeared, if only so that he wouldn't have to endure teasing about this after he'd hired people to kill Dean and hide the body.

He'd started pulling at the binds as soon as Dean had left, trying to free his wrists and ankles, but damn if the knots weren't holding tight. This guy must have been one seriously kinky Boy Scout when he was a kid.

[The thread with saltandammo is locked to him. Otherwise, the door is open. *g*]