by M. S. Willis
“He’s beautiful, Arianna, just as I always knew he would be.” Awestruck and proud, Joseph’s tone of voice reminded her of who he’d been years before, the quality grating against her nerves. When he approached, she peeked out from under her lashes to see a shock of black hair on the child’s head. Reaching down, he placed the child in her arms, small sounds escaping from out of the blanket he was wrapped within. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she reached over to carefully pull the blanket from the child’s face, love becoming an inferno in her heart to look on the small features that faced her. She smiled sadly. The baby’s eyes were clenched tight against the light in the room, but when they opened, Arianna’s heart sank. Staring back at her, unfocused and newly born, were eyes the color of steel, shimmering silver that confirmed without a doubt who had been his father.
“He has my eyes.” Standing beside her, Joseph wrung one hand over the other as he stared down at his son. “What will we name him?”
Surprised that he’d asked, Arianna looked up at the proud father before returning her eyes to the child in her arms. “I thought of some names during the pregnancy. I was thinking, if it was a boy, we’d name him Aaron.”
“So similar to your name,” Joseph instantly noted.
“Yes.” Her heart shattered when she was sure Joseph would refuse the name.
“Aaron Joseph Carmichael,” he mused. “It’s a strong name, proud, like his father. I’ll announce his birth this afternoon.”
She looked up at him, partly relieved that he’d allow the name she’d chosen, but mostly sickened by his presence in her room. Looking over his once handsome face, she noticed how he’d lost weight, how his skin had grown pallor from whatever it was he did while in the west wing. While she stared at Joseph, the child stirred, turning its head towards her breast in search of milk. Immediately, she opened her robe and offered her breast to the child, wincing when he latched on, but delighting in the small suckling sounds he made while he ate.
“I must leave now, Arianna. Business never stops, even when a child is born.” Joseph’s heavy footsteps sounded as he made his way to the bedroom door. Stopping when he reached the door, he refused to look in her direction when he said, “You’ve proven yourself useful for once. Perhaps this can be a new beginning, now that you’ve learned to behave and to give me what I want.”
She didn’t respond, didn’t release the anger she felt at the words he’d spoken. Silence permeated the air when he finally opened the door and disappeared into the hallway.
. . .
“Tonight.”
One word, spoken softly so that only she could hear it. Sitting at her piano, her eyes looked across the room at the bassinet that cradled Aaron. Almost every day she brought the child into the music room, serenading him with the music she’d written for him. She marveled at how he calmed immediately to hear it. Even on days where he cried for no reason, desperately seeking sleep or comfort, but not finding it, the music would always grant him peace. She wondered if it had been due to her playing when she’d been pregnant with him. Regardless of the reason, Aaron loved to hear her play, would settle immediately when the hammer of the piano fell upon its string and the first, solitary note sounded.
Connor stood sentry behind her. His back to the door, his hands folded behind his back. Due to the increased activity in the right wing, he’d been excused from guarding her often and he’d had more time to leave the property, to seek out help from those who’d be willing to hide them from the ever-watchful eyes of Joseph.
She didn’t need to ask what he meant, although she’d hoped that when he discovered to whom the child belonged, he would give up the fantastical idea of ever escaping their hellish prison. The stakes were higher now that Aaron had been born. If Connor’s abduction of Joseph’s wife had been unimaginable, his ability to steal Joseph’s son was unthinkable and impossible - the minute chance that Joseph would have given up in his search for them was completely destroyed now that his son was added to the equation.
“You’re insane, Connor. There is no way. I’ve begged you before, and I continue to beg: Please, if you love me, please leave. Give up the idea that there is any chance for us and save yourself.”
Spinning on the bench so that she could face him, Arianna looked up into green eyes, resolute and determined in his belief that they had any chance of escaping together.
“You must realize that he’ll never stop searching. We’d live in hiding every day of our life; in fear that someone will someday discover us and turn us in for reward or merit.”
Refusing to listen to her, Connor demanded, “Pack things for Aaron and yourself. I’ve found people who are willing to help; another network that Joseph all but destroyed when The Estate was built. They’re small, but they won’t turn us in to him. Their hatred runs as deep as ours.”
“So, we’ll be leaving one hell only to bury ourselves within another. What’s to keep them from subjecting us to the same nightmare?” Her blue eyes glistened in the low light of the room while she attempted to introduce logic into the true helplessness of their situation. “At least here, Aaron will not be harmed. Joseph cares too much for an heir to allow anything to happen to him…”
“And what about you?”
His interruption annoyed her, knowing that his sudden response indicated her words had failed to alter what he’d planned.
“That remains to be seen. He’s found me useful as a mother to his son, in the chain he’s attached to me now that we share a child. He hasn’t started the abuse again in the three months since Aaron’s been born. Maybe…”
“That’s because he carries out his sick fantasies on the women who service the west wing. I’ve heard the men talking. He’s killed, Arianna, he’s taken his tastes too far. His constant drug use is pushing him to do things no man would normally do. There’s nothing keeping him from carrying out the same acts on you.” Twisting from disgust, Connor’s expression darkened when he thought about the activities of the west wing. “His men encourage him, act with him, and the bodies of the whores are tossed aside, burned; nothing more than garbage.”
Arianna wasn’t sure what bothered her more: the fact that her husband had fallen so far, or the fact that she wasn’t surprised to hear it. Her eyes fell to the floor. “It’ll never work, Connor. We won’t succeed. Attempting it will be your death.”
“You have to let me try.”
Bringing her eyes back to his, she smiled sweetly at him, distraught over how unfair her life had turned out to be. “Is there really a chance? Not fantasy, not something that might occur, but something that is almost certain?”
He nodded, anticipation gracing his features that he’d convinced her to leave.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him and it broke her heart to think of what would occur if he failed. “Fine. I’ll pack a few things tonight. If he doesn’t show up, we can try.”
Chapter Seventeen
Arianna stood in her bedroom, her eyes looking out the window that was opaque from the black of night. Her heart raced in her chest as sweat broke out on her skin. Aaron lay sleeping in his crib, thankfully peaceful on a night where his silence was a necessity. After agreeing to Connor’s plan, she’d not asked for details on how he intended to carry it out. Instead, she played for her son until it was time to return to her suite to wait and see if Joseph would appear.
She’d secretly hoped Joseph would appear, thought that maybe his presence would buy her more time to convince Connor to give up his plan, to leave her and Aaron to whatever fate they had in the mansion.
However, midnight had come and gone and she knew Joseph had chosen to remain in the west wing. On the nights he did appear, he always did so early in the evening, acting the loving father he wanted people to believe that he was. He’d spread word of Aaron’s arrival all over the network, had held a party in celebration without forcing Arianna to attend. That night, she could hear music wafting down the corridors between her suite and the ballroom and she cried to
know that it was criminals who celebrated the birth of her son.
The silence of her bedroom disturbed her. Her footsteps against the stone tile sounded like a clock counting down the hour until she’d know if they would be able to escape. Connor had seemed so sure, so determined that she couldn’t help the small bit of hope that had blossomed in her chest. She didn’t want that hope, didn’t welcome the bit of light that would cause more pain if it were extinguished.
When she heard the familiar sound of metal against metal, she turned to the door, her heart plunging into her stomach when Connor peeked around the door and entered the room. Closing it behind him, he stood silently, both looking at each other as if their last moments on Earth dangled before them.
Connor was dressed in all black as usual, the material of his t-shirt pulled tightly across his shoulders, folding the material at the ends where it stretched. His physique unhidden by his clothes, she allowed her eyes to travel over him, the memory of their one encounter in the cave replaying itself in her head.
“It’s time.”
Her eyes closed at his words and her heart felt like it would beat through her skin. She felt dizzy from her fear, adrenaline rushing through her veins like a turbulent flood. She moved to the closet to grab her bags, but Connor took them from her hands before she could even step back into the room. Hidden within the shadow of the closet, he peered down at her. In their continued silence she could see the same emotions brushing over her features that she had battering the walls of her body. His hand came up to her chin, one finger placed beneath it when he lifted her face to his. Whispering so that only she could hear, he said, “I know you’re scared. I know you think what we are about to do is impossible, but I promise you Arianna, that it can be done. As soon as we are beyond the walls of The Estate we will be escorted away, hidden in a place where Joseph will never think to look.”
He lowered his head and took her mouth softly with his. But, when he went to pull away, she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss filled with pain, desperation, longing and fear. Only when she’d run out of air and had to breath, did she let him go. A single tear escaped her eye and he reached up to wipe it away.
“This isn’t goodbye, beautiful. It’s the beginning, not the end.”
Forcing herself to smile, she nodded her agreement, even though her mind wouldn’t let her believe they would succeed.
Taking her hand, Connor pulled her out into the bedroom and grabbed a heavy blanket off the bed. He lifted Aaron out of the crib, careful not to jostle the sleeping child, and wrapped the blanket around him. After handing Aaron to Arianna, he opened the window and tossed her bags out into the dead of night.
Before crawling out he turned back to her and instructed, “Stay with me at all times. We’ll keep to the shadows of the mansion until we can move out into the tree line. Stay as low to the ground as you can. Once we are hidden by the trees, we’ll need to move quickly toward the front walls.” He paused, not wanting to admit what his plan entailed. Remorsefully, he added, “I’ll have to kill whatever men we come across. If you see me pull my knife, look away.”
Her stomach turned at the thought of the certain violence to come. She loathed that Connor would have to commit it, but knew that it could not be avoided. When she looked to him without response he nodded his head and crawled out the large window. Reaching back in he took Aaron from her arms, assisted her through the window and handed him back to her once she was on the other side. Quickly grabbing her bags, he guided her through the shadows of the house, before reaching a point where he indicated for her to bend down and run across the grass lawn that led out into the woods.
. . .
Joseph’s eyelids hung heavily over his steel grey gaze. In and out of focus, the haze of the drug he injected only minutes before slithered through his veins, bringing blessed numbness to his body and mind. It wasn’t enough to disable him; he preferred smaller doses that would calm the chaos of his thoughts while still allowing him the ability to control his surroundings.
Sitting on a couch in the living room of the suite that, through the years, served as his quarters, he watched the brunette woman before him, her naked body dancing seductively to the music being pumped through the room. He imagined the things he would do that body, his eyes looking over the healthy weight to her breasts, and the muscular curve to her abdomen. When she rotated around, his eyes found her ass – round, yet firm. She was young; most likely barely twenty, but age had never been a factor to him, he’d found that women were all the same, a body to use for his pleasure and nothing more. He never found satisfaction with the women he fucked, his release a bleak drizzle compared to what it had been when he’d been with his wife. But, he couldn’t touch her, not while his son was young and still depended on her for food and comfort. He feared he’d lose control with her like he had countless women; destroying her in his quest to find his release, to feed the violence that saturated every cell of his body. Rage had found him throughout the years and he’d surrendered to it without knowledge or thought, without so much as a struggle against the thing that was slowly destroying him.
The other men in attendance laughed and hollered, but it didn’t draw Joseph’s attention away from the dancing woman. He imagined her chained to his bed, her body swollen from lust and the pain he would deliver. His cock swelled at the thought of when they’d fought against him. He relished the feel of their nails sliding down his back, the way they screamed when he forced himself inside them, ripping the skin from his girth. It empowered him; his need to dominate only truly fed when they tried to refuse him. His tastes had started out with the willing, women who submitted easily without a fight, who had enjoyed being used, being objectified. But when the sadistic side to him reared its ugly head, when they’d been exposed to the level of pain Joseph preferred to impart, that’s when he found the only thing that could fulfill his ever-increasing need for control.
The woman’s eyes met his, a honey brown that carried no intelligence within its hue. She was obviously drugged, a state of euphoria alight on her face and when she discovered that he’d been watching her, a smile cracked the corners of her full lips, an invitation extended for him to take what he wanted. He cock twitched and he motioned for the girl to walk over to where he sat. She smiled brighter, delighted to gain his acceptance. Prowling over to him, she stopped when she stood between his parted legs. His hand reached up to her and he pulled her down to kneel in front of him. When she settled on the floor, he reached out, taking her breast in his hand before bending over to take the taut peak between his lips. His tongue flicked out to lave across the swollen bud before he took it between his teeth and bit down.
When she half cried and half moaned, his pants tightened more, and he reached down with his other hand and found the moist heat between her thighs. His fingers pushed within the soft skin, until he forced them up inside her body. Her hips undulated over his hand and her muscles gripped him hungrily. Pulling away from her, he sat back, looking to her to satisfy him before he could take her to his bed. She watched as he spread his arms across the back of the couch, his legs spread wide in invitation for her touch.
She giggled, realization dawning on her as to what he was demanding and she immediately reached out to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Pulling him free of the material, her eyes widened at his size, heat and anticipation lighting her gaze when she leaned forward to take him into her mouth.
His head fell back against the leather, but he kept his eyes turned downwards so he could watch the bounce to her breasts as she moved up and down, her tongue running along his length, her lips growing even more full as she took him impossibly deep. Her actions weren’t enough to get him off, the violence missing from the encounter, but it was enough to get him started, to rev up the engines to a point where he’d drag her back to his room.
When her hands found his balls and she massaged over the skin, his hips bucked. His heart sped up delivering another ru
sh of the drug he’d earlier ingested and he didn’t notice when Emory marched into the room. It was only when the couch sunk beneath him from Emory’s weight that he looked over to his first guard.
“We have a problem, Joseph. One that requires immediate action.” Emory’s tone was agitated, yet excited.
One eyebrow arched over Joseph’s eye and he straightened slightly, waiting for Emory to continue.
“Connor is attempting to flee the compound.”
Joseph chuckled, unsure why Emory was concerned about Connor. “He’s not a prisoner, he can come and go as he pleases. Although I’m not pleased that he left Arianna and Aaron alone in the suite.” Joseph’s hand reached down and rested on the head of the woman between his legs. He guided her faster along his cock, needing the increasing speed and pressure to keep him from going soft.”
“That’s the thing, Joseph. He hasn’t left them. He’s attempting to take them with him. One of the men you have stationed outside her window saw them and they’ve been followed into the woods.”
The woman screamed when Joseph’s fingers tangled furiously into her hair. Ripping her off of him, he tossed her to the floor, kicking her away from his feet when he refastened his pants. She crawled away like a dog, shame turning her cheeks red when the other men in the room laughed at what Joseph had done.
Joseph’s fury boiled within his veins; betrayed by his guard and his wife, he saw red before his eyes, thought of nothing but death when he considered what he had to do.
Making a decision, he stood suddenly, and looked down at Emory, his voice took on a commanding tone when he ordered, “Gather every man in my personal guard, have them meet at the front gates. I want someone guarding every possible exit along the walls. Keep this quiet, Emory, I don’t need the entire network knowing what my wife has done.”
