by Gemma James
Shit, I’d gotten myself into a real bind, and for the fucking life of me, I couldn’t see a way out of it. Except I’d gotten out of tough spots before, beating odds that seemed impossible. Could I do it again? I wasn’t so sure this time.
“He’s allergic to peanut butter, so he needs something else for lunch.”
Shelton gave a quick nod. “Consider it noted.”
A tense beat of disquiet passed. “If I win this fight, will you let him go?”
“Come out the winner, and I’ll consider it.” Shelton closed the spaced between us and prodded me in the chest. “But you have a long way to go, Mason. You’ll need to prove your usefulness, and your trustworthiness.” He dipped his head until we were nearly nose-to-nose, and his voice dropped. “Fail to do either of those things, then your boy won’t see the outside of that room ever again.”
It was then that it really sank in, becoming as real as a sledgehammer to crumbling plaster. This situation was permanent. Shelton wanted to turn me into his prized death fighter. Someone whose strings he controlled.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to test the consequences if I refused to be his puppet.
5. Barter
Alex
The thump-thump of Zach’s boots down the staircase pulled me from sleep in tortuous stages, thrusting me into a waking nightmare that was all too real. I lay prone on the cot, helpless to do anything else as time passed me by, showing zero regard for my pain. The heat, the blackness, the small space—they all trapped me in a hell I couldn’t escape. Panic threatened to rise with every breath.
Zach couldn’t win.
I pushed his name from my mind and focused on the positive. He might have the upper hand, but he couldn’t touch me. Not without my cooperation. I wished I could ignore his presence, or at the very least, the ruckus of his arrival, and find sanctuary again in sleep. I’d been drifting in and out all day…
Or was it night?
I’d lost track of even my best guess.
Blinking against the sudden brightness, I made out his form on the other side of the bars. He lifted an arm, tilting the bottle of water gripped in his hand toward me.
“You ready to negotiate?”
“You have nothing I want.” Sitting up, I crossed my arms.
“Maybe not, but I’ve got something you need.” He set the water bottle on the concrete floor, just out of reach—should I be stupid enough to attempt grabbing it through the bars while he stood there. “The water is yours if you get over here and open your pretty mouth. If you make me come hard enough, I’ll sweeten the deal with lunch today.”
My stomach grumbled painfully at the thought. I was beyond hungry, but what really worried me was the signs of dehydration I could no longer ignore.
Pounding headache.
Dizziness.
Dry mouth.
It was a sweltering sauna in the cellar, but I wasn’t sweating nearly as badly as the last time he’d visited me…hours ago? Yesterday? Reality was a disorienting swirl around my head, making the dizziness worse.
Another bad sign.
I draped a protective arm over my belly, knowing I couldn’t hold out any longer. Fighting tears, I glanced at Zach’s smug face. “Please, Zach. Don’t make me do this. I’m begging you.” I crawled off the bed and stood on my knees. “If you care about me at all, don’t make me do this.”
His gaze was an illicit caress on my skin as he rubbed a hand over the bulge in his jeans. “Begging turns me on.”
Clenching my jaw, I hopped to my feet, willing myself not to glance at the bottle of water. He’d only set it there to taunt me.
To fucking tempt me.
He might not be able to get his hands on me inside this prison, but I was still at his non-existent mercy. Because he had me. We both knew it. There would be no imminent rescue. No one was left to find me—he’d made sure to eliminate his competition. Concession was the only way to survive. If I didn’t have my baby to think about, I might be able to hold out longer.
Zach had leverage, and he didn’t even know it.
Swallowing my pride and my fear, I stepped within his reach for the first time since locking myself inside the prison. “I-I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
“I’ll suck you off.”
His grin practically split his face. “I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”
He hadn’t left me with much choice, but I didn’t bother pointing that out to him. Unconcerned with my lack of enthusiasm, he closed the last foot between us and thrust out his pelvis.
“Unzip me.”
A tremor shook through my arm as I reached between the bars for the button of his jeans. I’d barely touched him before he grabbed me by the hair. I gasped, panic gripping me, and met the glare of his hazel eyes.
“Get on your fucking knees where you belong.”
Inch by inch, I went down, his fist in my locks guiding me to my surrender. A gazillion seconds seemed to pass as I slid his button free. I stalled even longer on the zipper, feeling the press of his huge erection against my arm. He let out a warning growl, prompting me to yank his zipper down.
“Open,” he rasped, fisting the root of his cock, aiming the tip at my mouth. He pulled me forward, the cool bars pressing against my cheeks, and pushed between my lips. My first instinct was to shove him away, to close my throat to keep him from going too deep, but when he tightened his fingers in my hair and let out another growl, it took everything in me to stand my ground and allow him to use me.
“Jesus, Lex,” he groaned, shoving his dick into my throat, each thrust more violent than the last. My tongue felt like a slug of sandpaper in my mouth, but Zach didn’t seem bothered by it. His pleasure leaked all over my tongue, causing the friction he wanted with every slide that brought him deeper. Gripping the bars to steady me, I began to gag.
“Damn,” he panted. “Good girl. Take it all.” He seated himself so deep that my tongue flattened against his nut sack. “Touch your cunt. You’re coming too, baby.”
Pushing against the bars for leverage, I whined a muffled protest.
He responded by tightening his grip in my hair. “If you want that water bottle, you’re gonna fucking come for me.” An insistent yank on my curls sent my fingers dipping between my legs. I’d do anything to end this hell as fast as possible. As I circled my clit with my middle finger, Zach shallowed his thrusts, slowed the pace.
The fucker was playing with me as I played with myself.
“Christ, you suck me like a vacuum.” He let out a long groan, and unwanted tingles tore through me, heating my skin, making me press more firmly against my hand. I blinked hot humiliation down my cheeks, unable to stop the flow any more than I could rein in the way my body was wired.
He slid in all the way again and held, expelling a grunt of pleasure as I gagged. “So good and deep. Keep touching yourself. Get your cunt good and wet.”
The heat between my thighs intensified. I fucking despised my body. I hated Zach even more for making me do this. Closing my eyes, I gave myself over to the sensation of helplessness, of being used, and pretended Rafe was on the other side of those bars.
I imagined his fevered green eyes watching me as he fucked my mouth. He’d tighten his fist in my curls, just as Zach did now.
And in this moment, despite being locked up, I’d have complete power over Rafe. My submission did something to him, took him to a place where he had little control. It was an empowering notion, and the thought sent me over the edge. I moaned around the cock in my mouth as I flooded my fingers.
That’s all Zach was in this moment—a cock.
One that spewed its surrender into my throat.
Afterward, there was only silence, interrupted by Zach’s labored breathing as he shuffled back and zipped up his pants.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I wanted to cling to the fantasy of Rafe as long as I could. It was the only thing keeping me sane. The only thing keeping the guilt at bay for what
I’d just done.
Just a cock. Just a fucking cock. It doesn’t matter, Alex.
I wasn’t sure Rafe would see it that way. What if he never forgave me for giving in to Zach? I should have held out longer. Another day without food and water wouldn’t kill me.
As if Zach heard my inner battle, he picked up the water bottle and tossed it into the cell. “Your payment for a job well done.”
I expected him to leave now that he’d gotten what he wanted, but he didn’t. He paced for a few moments before taking a seat against the wall three feet from where I sat, gulping down the water. Replacing the cap, I set aside the half-empty bottle, determined to pace myself because Zach’s payments were more than I could bear.
“Did I earn lunch?” The question dripped with dry sarcasm, but I didn’t think Zach heard it.
“Fuck yeah, you did.”
My stomach rumbled in answer. From the corner of my eye, I spied him watching me.
Always watching. Always waiting. It’s what he was good at.
“I’m not the bad guy here, Lex.”
“What else are you supposed to be then?”
“The man who loves you. The man who would do anything to have you. Why can’t you understand that?”
“Why can’t you understand that Rafe is the only man I want?”
“I get that you want him now, but things change. If I didn’t believe a part of you loved me back, I might have given up by now.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I dragged both hands down my face. “I don’t love you, and I don’t give a fuck if that hurts you. I stopped giving a shit about what you want or what you think when you drove me to slit my wrists.”
Dangling his hands between his knees, he dipped his head. “I’m more sorry about that than I can ever say.”
“Sorry doesn’t erase it. Sorry doesn’t give Rafe his life back, or his son his mother back. It doesn’t give me my innocence back. You stole so much, but it doesn’t even faze you.” I glared at him through the dim light, the weight of our entwined histories heavy in the air. “You can’t see past your obsession.”
“You’re right,” he said, his voice quiet. Sad. “I can’t. All I know is I need you.” He looked up, his hazel eyes bright with something I didn’t want to face, let alone understand. “I’ve always needed you. Even when we were kids, and you’d cling to me when Dad was on the warpath again, you calmed me, Lex. You’ve always grounded me.”
“We’re not kids anymore.”
“No, but the feelings are still there. If they weren’t, you would have let Rafe kill me in that cage instead of letting me go.”
His words thundered through my ears, hitting me where I was most vulnerable. I’d lost count of the times I’d analyzed the night I helped Zach escape. Rafe sure as hell didn’t understand why I’d done it.
I didn’t fully understand it either. If I’d let Rafe take care of him in that cage, none of this would be happening right now. How much more pain would Zach cause before I learned my lesson?
Because he would never give up as long as he was breathing.
“After lunch, I have to take off for a while,” Zach said. “Maybe a day. But since you were such a good girl, I’ll go easy on the thermostat while I’m gone.” As he rose to his feet, his words were a preamble, an omen I wished I could stow back in the box, because something about his demeanor had my senses going haywire. The tilt to his mouth was too sure, the leisurely fall of his footsteps too unworried.
A warning simmered my blood.
He was too calm.
Too confident.
Too satisfied, even for having just blown his load down my throat. I knew him too well, and this was more. Zach was up to something.
“Where are you going?”
He smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
6. Failure
Rafe
Like the last two evenings, Military Dude smirked at me from the doorway, only this time, the tray of food was missing from his hands. I rose to my feet, sensing the guy’s changed demeanor.
“Has Shelton decided to use starvation to kill me, instead of creating a circus show?” My tone dripped with sarcasm. No way in hell would Shelton waste such a lucrative opportunity by withholding dinner. The bastard wanted me at the top of my game.
“Sorry to disappoint,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “Your supper will be ready after your visitor leaves.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Visitor?”
“Yep.” He gestured toward the shackles hanging over my head. “Raise your arms.”
“No way in hell.”
Military Dude shrugged. “Guess you don’t want to find out how your woman is handling her new owner.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ll find out as soon as you cooperate.” He pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. “Or do I need to take a trip down the hall to the kid’s room?”
“That’s not necessary,” I snapped through gritted teeth, lifting my arms.
A wave of self-loathing crashed over me as he strung me up on my toes. It was like being in those tunnels all over again, only Alex wasn’t here this time for them to use against me.
Now they had my son.
And Alex…God, I couldn’t stand to think of her at Zach’s non-existent mercy, bound by his evil will. I’d go mad and do something that would get us all killed.
“That should do it,” Military Dude said, testing the chains anchoring me to the beam in the ceiling. He returned to the door and yanked it open, and I settled my gaze on the asshole waiting on the other side with his usual smug smile. His hazel eyes zeroed in on me, sparking in amusement at the sight of my downfall.
“Just hanging around, huh buddy?”
“I’m not your fucking buddy,” I spat as Zach waltzed into the room, not a care in the world going by his expression and sickeningly sweet tone.
“That, we can agree on.” Zach remained just out of reach of my feet while Military Dude stood sentry near the door. I almost snorted at the uselessness of it all, because Zach sure as hell didn’t need a fucking guard while I was shackled to the ceiling like this.
“You are most definitely not my friend,” Zach said. “A buddy wouldn’t steal their best friend’s woman.”
“She was never yours to take, asshole.”
“Oh, she was mine. Her cunt wept for me, just like it’ll fucking weep for me again as soon as I get this over with.”
Pressure built between my ears, rage pounding at my temples, thrashing to explode. “Don’t you fucking touch her.” Vehemence shook my words, even though the threat was too little too late. She’d been at Zach’s mercy for two days.
Zach’s eyes darkened as he took a step toward me. Ten more inches, and he’d come within striking distance of my feet.
“Here’s the problem. I can’t touch her until I get her out of that goddamn prison you built in the cellar.”
I blinked, mind hitting a brick wall at his words. Why the hell would he lock her up on the island? It didn’t make any sense. “You put her in there?”
He scoffed. “Would I be here if I had?”
My heart soared. If he hadn’t locked Alex in the cellar, then she must have enclosed herself behind those bars, and I was damn proud of her for outsmarting the bastard. She was a survivor.
“That’s my girl. Fucking genius, isn’t she?”
“She’s fucking mine.” His face reddened to the wrathful hue of a demon, and that’s when it sank in.
He needed the key.
I clenched my jaw. “Sounds like you’ve got a problem then.”
“Tell me where the key is.”
“It’s hanging on the keyring of go fuck yourself.”
“If you don’t tell me where the goddamn key is, I’ll starve her. Do you understand me?”
I fought the chains holding me. “You would make her suffer like that?”
“No, you will make her suffer like that if you don’t cooperate, and don�
��t get me started on what will happen to the kid. Now tell me where you hid it!”
I couldn’t draw in a full breath, pressed between what I wanted to do, and what I needed to do. Zach hadn’t touched her yet. He hadn’t taken her off the island. But he would as soon as he got hold of the key. And what if he explored the cabin before taking her from me forever?
Every twisted and wrong idea I’d entertained, had even prepared for, came at me like a fucking wrecking ball.
“I’m not giving you the key.”
Something lit his eyes, and I realized my mistake too late.
The slip-up of all slip-ups.
“You have it on you, don’t you?” Triumph braided his tone as he narrowed the distance between us by another inch.
“No, it’s back at the cabin. You’ll never find it.”
His lips turned up at the corners. “I don’t think so. I think it’s right here in this room.” Another step, another moment closer to getting his hands on my wife.
My pulse did double time. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. My entire body went rigid in preparation. Zach reached for the pocket in my pants, and I struck, lifting my knee and catching him in the groin. Wheezing his wrath through clenched teeth, he bent over, face darkening to a deep red-purple hue.
And that’s when I really went on the offensive.
Grabbing the chains above my trapped hands, I hoisted myself off the ground and came down on his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his neck in a variation of a triangle chokehold born of desperation. The brunt of my weight cut into my wrists, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Not as long as I had him, and I intended to kill him. He thrashed for a few seconds, frantic fingers clawing at me to let him go. Then he went limp, and I doubled down on the pressure.
It wouldn’t be much longer now.
And that’s when Military Dude pried my legs from around Zach’s neck. Alex’s tormenter dropped like deadweight, irritatingly out of reach as Shelton’s guy pummeled me in the stomach until I lost my breath.
Until my hope fractured and my eyes burned from the pain. It still didn’t compare to the pain Alex would endure if Zach got his hands on that key.
