“Good,” he replied. “That’s much better. Stay that way.”
The drill appeared once more, the noise tightening Hannah’s muscles in reflex. She wanted to scream as it neared her open mouth, to cry out, to protest, to fight Matthew off, but she didn’t. Now that they were this far into the procedure, Hannah wanted the filling finished, and besides that, she fleetingly remembered the fate that would await her should she not be held down in the dentist’s chair right now. No doubt she’d be leashed and humiliated in that horrendous training yard she’d been taken to earlier. That’s the reason Hannah was here. She’d chosen this over the prospect of that ordeal.
For the first time in her life, she’d opted for dental treatment over something else—it was no longer the greatest evil. Hannah trembled at the thought, startling as it resonated. This truly was a first, and so it seemed, no matter how depraved their methodology, the program Lawes and Fuller had instigated was constructive. The dentist was no longer Hannah’s biggest fear. Now, thanks to these men, there were far more pressing terrors. The confinement, oppression, suffocating, and overwhelming sense of anxiety, coupled with the forever burgeoning hedonism—those were the true horrors. The things that would haunt her memories for the rest of time.
“That’s the drilling finished.” Lawes’ voice broke Hannah’s internal monologue, and she tipped her head back to see him pass the instrument of torture over to Matthew. Releasing her, the younger man took the drill from Lawes, returning it to the counter. Lawes removed the tube in her mouth, which was draining away her saliva, stroking her jaw tenderly, and Hannah pulled in a deep breath. Caught in the frenzy of her own thoughts, she had missed the worst of the procedure, and Lawes hadn’t hit another nerve in the meantime.
“Cement, please, Matthew.” Lawes’ gaze was on her, those gloved fingers caressing Hannah’s flesh until her skin goosed, the tremble traveling straight to her breasts, pebbling her nipples. “Are you okay, Hannah?”
Hannah nodded her head slowly. It was strange. Nothing had changed. She was still a prisoner here, and she still loathed the whole environment, but she was okay. She was calm, soothed by his touch, and that was, perhaps, the most mind-blowing aspect of the entire horrid ordeal. How could a man—who had snatched her and with his partner, treated her with such denigrating disdain—be comforting?
And what was wrong with Hannah for even having that thought in the first place?
“Yes, Mr. Lawes, sir.” She breathed the words up at him, and he lowered his mask to offer her a smile.
“Just the filling to add,” he told her. “A few more minutes in the chair, then it will all be over.”
Lawes replaced his mask, his attention turning back to Matthew and the task at hand, but for Hannah, the questions remained, their importance and the attached implications never-ending.
Twenty-One
Opportunity
Her mind was numb, much like her jaw might have been had Lawes not decided to ignore her obvious need for pain relief and continue with the filling. It wasn’t like there had been much debate about the matter in Hannah’s head, but this absolutely sealed it. Lawes was evidently a sadist—a guy who got off on inflicting pain on her, and the treatment proved it. She inhaled as a sense of self-pity filled her, gazing up to his smiling green eyes.
“You got through it.” What was that—pride in his voice? Hannah fidgeted in the seat at the thought. “I knew you would, and you didn’t let me down, Hannah.”
Hannah swallowed, pushing the throbbing ache of her tooth from her mind. She had bigger issues now, more salient problems that would require her attention—namely, now the ordeal of the filling was done, how on earth was she going to get out of this place? How was she going to resist ending up back in one of those cages—ending up just like those other women? Her muscles tensed at the terrifying thought.
“You did well.” Lawes patted her cheek gently. “Once the nerve settles, you should find the tooth gives you no more pain.”
She caught her lip between her teeth. What was she supposed to do now—thank the guy for doing the treatment, even though he’d failed to administer the anesthetic she needed? Hannah’s eyes fluttered closed. Yes, she supposed that was what was expected.
“Thank you, Mr. Lawes, sir.”
When her eyes opened, Hannah could see the satisfaction in his expression as Lawes’ hand fell over her breasts, caressing her skin in an almost tender way.
“I’ll tidy up here.” Matthew’s voice cut through the odd, underlying tension flickering between her and Lawes.
Hannah wasn’t ready to deal with the burgeoning chemistry—she couldn’t process it. There was no reconciling an attraction to a man who had done this to her. Someone who had snatched away her liberty and shamed her in the basest ways. There was no understanding that, so she chose to ignore it, but she knew it was there. It was real, and when her gaze flitted to Lawes’, she swore she could feel the spark of electricity. The way her breathing increased, the rising temperature at her core, the unexpected beading of her nipples—there was no getting away from those things, and Hannah couldn’t deny them.
“Good.” Lawes’ gaze darted to Matthew. “Thank you.”
Hannah heard the clatter of metal as Matthew presumably began to tidy up the instruments, and something about the resonance of the sound cleared her head. Her eyes flitted away from Lawes, and she began to take in her surroundings.
Still in the dentist’s chair.
Unrestrained.
As though he sensed the shift in the atmosphere, Lawes exhaled.
“We had better think about getting you back to the others.” Lawes sounded pensive. “Unless you think you’d need some time to recover from the treatment?” He flung the question out there like a life raft in the ocean, and instinctively, Hannah grasped for it.
“Yes, please.” Her voice conveyed the strength of her feeling on the subject. “I think I do, sir.”
Lawes’ lips twitched. Clearly, he was onto her game—he knew she was stalling for time, yet for whatever reason, it seemed he might be willing to indulge Hannah. After all, the delay had been his idea.
“Okay.” His tone was soft. “You can curl up in my office for a while like a good little pet.”
Hannah’s breath caught at that, her mind flitting back to the pet bed she’d witnessed in Lawes’ office yesterday—exactly like the one she’d been face-to-face with in Fuller’s room.
“I’ll take you down after you’re rested.”
Hannah craned her neck to catch Lawes’ eyes before he wandered away, and in that split second, she couldn’t decide what she saw in them. Why was he offering her this lifeline? It seemed so unlike the man she had grown to know, yet Hannah had to begrudgingly admit, over the course of the last few hours, Lawes had demonstrated a more compliant side. Sure, he was still happy to humble and use her, but he hadn’t seemed to want to push her beyond the boundaries. It was as if Lawes could sense how much was enough, and how much was too much. The realization was perturbing.
“Thank you.” She whispered the words, but he turned back in her direction, proving he heard them. “Sir.”
At that moment, a blood-curdling scream filled the air from beyond the treatment room, and reflexively, their attention shifted toward the exit.
“What on earth was that?” Lawes was already pacing in the door's direction, his gaze fixed ahead before his feet paused, and he turned back to Hannah. “You go on ahead, Matthew. I’ll just see to Miss Bowman.”
Matthew dropped the utensils onto the polished tiles in response to Lawes’ command and dashed for the exit. Hannah’s heart pounded as Lawes returned to the place she was sitting.
“I’ll need to restrain you now,” he told her flatly. “I’m sure you understand.”
She blinked up at him while he began work on her left wrist, throat drying at the realization. No, Hannah did not understand, yet it seemed her opinion was of little consequence. Lawes compelled her wrist into the cuff just as a second cry reverberated from be
yond the door. Again, they both turned, their gazes locking fleetingly as Lawes hurried to secure Hannah into place. Hannah’s heart raced, concern over the sudden bondage being dwarfed by apprehension about what was going on out there.
It had been a woman’s scream they’d heard—that much was certain—but who and why wasn’t clear. Hannah’s mind tripped over the range of possibilities. Perhaps someone was being punished, and the scream was evidence of their agony. Her belly twisted at that idea, but Hannah could believe it. She knew the men had both the inclination and focus to deliver such a penance.
Her attention flitted to her right wrist in time to see Lawes buckle it into place, then he was gone, running from the treatment room like a doctor on an emergency call. Hannah pulled in a deep breath, pulling against the straps as soon as the door had swung closed. The right cuff was snug against her wrist, but the one Lawes had tended to first was much looser than usual—a result, she suspected, of his focus being distracted—interrupted by the disruption outside. When Hannah twisted her hand inside it, she found there was some wiggle room, a chance to slip her small wrist from the prison. The rhythm of her heartbeat thundered in her head as she maneuvered her hand free from the restraint, and when she pulled it free, she stared at her palm in disbelief.
She was free—or at least she would be as soon as she took care of the other cuff, and unthinkingly, Hannah’s left hand flew to the right wrist to ease the buckle open. Liberated and alone, Hannah’s gaze moved around the treatment room while she considered her next move.
Another ear-splitting scream reverberated from somewhere outside the room, and this one was louder. The woman was closer and based on the sound, even more distressed. Hannah pushed herself into an upright position, her gaze darting around the place. She was alone, and for the first time since she’d first awoken in this very chair, she wasn’t fettered in any way. Adrenaline pinballed around her body as that idea resonated, and unthinkingly, Hannah swung her legs from the chair until she was on her feet again. Just that action alone seemed illicit.
Hannah knew if Lawes was to walk back in and find her on her feet without his permission, she’d be in trouble and likely the next one screaming for mercy, but it didn’t stop her. Nothing would stop Hannah now. This chance—whatever this was—was too good not to pursue. She tiptoed to the door, easing the thing back an inch to see what was going on in the grandiose hallway. At first, there was nothing, no one there and nothing to see, but Hannah’s heart was already lodged in her throat. There was too much panic ricocheting around her to dissipate the tension. She knew the scream had been real—Lawes’ reaction had proven that point—but the question was, where had they all headed in search of it?
Wherever it was, Hannah pitied the poor woman who received their attention, but on the other hand, she wanted to kiss her because that poor soul had just bought Hannah a chance—a real chance. Her first real chance since she’d woken up in this nightmare and Hannah intended to take it.
Closing the door, she skipped back inside the treatment room toward the adjoining entry to Lawes’ study. It was a calculated risk. Hannah had no way of knowing if the second door would be unlocked, and every second she wasted was precious. Wherever Lawes and Matthew had gone, the clock was ticking. Evidently, in their sudden concern of the scream, they’d left Hannah alone, but they wouldn’t leave her for long.
Soon they would return, and at that point, if she hadn’t found a way to at least hide, her number would be up. There’d be no getting out of that damn cage if Lawes worked out she was trying to run for a second time, and whatever connection Hannah had imagined was developing between them would count for nothing. She’d heard him talking to Fuller when they’d taken the dreadful hose to her defenseless body. Hannah was just a number to them—another body in a cage, another woman to bind and torment. She meant nothing.
None of them did.
Hannah's hands were at the door knob a moment later, and to Hannah’s relief, the thing opened. She burst into the comparative warmth of his office, ensuring the door closed behind her. Looking around, she caught sight of a long coat hanging on an old-fashioned hat stand by the main entrance. Hannah was already headed in its direction. Painfully aware of her nudity, she pulled the navy garment from the stand and pulled it around her body. The coat presumably belonged to Lawes and was bloody enormous on Hannah, but it didn’t matter. It was something—something to wear, something to cling to while she tried to figure out a way out of this sordid nightmare.
“No!” The woman’s voice echoed along the hallway outside, temporarily paralyzing Hannah’s body.
Shit, whoever it was sounded like they were only a few rooms away, and that meant Hannah had to move. She had to get out of Lawes’ study now and make a break for it, and this time she had to be smarter. Smarter than she’d been last night when she’d got away from Fuller and smarter than she’d been when she’d responded to the letter the two men had sent. For the first time in recent days, Hannah needed to have her wits about her. She needed to outthink them.
Fuller and Lawes would always be able to outplay her here. This was, she assumed, their building, or at the very least, they were au fait with the layout. They would know where to find her if she tried to hide again, and right on cue, Hannah’s mind recollected the awful punishment Fuller had compelled her to endure after he’d found her. She couldn’t go through that again—or worse. There was just no way. This time, Hannah had to get out.
She had to be free.
She eased the door to Lawes’ office open a fraction, peering into the hallway again. There was still no one visible, though the sounds of heavy footsteps were just audible to her left. Hannah’s gaze flitted right, and at the very end of the grand hall, she could just make out the front entrance. Her eyes landed on the large wooden doors, the recollection of the place she’d been brought into by Matthew occupying her head. At that point, Hannah had no idea there was anything out of sorts with the place. At that point, she’d still been under the blissful delusion the men here were dentists, only dentists—not men who wanted to chain, contain, and claim her. But now she knew better, and Hannah had to act on that knowledge.
Pushing the door open just enough for her to slip into the hallway, Hannah left the office. Her throat dried as she tiptoed on the hard flooring, heading toward the doors. The sense of panic was overwhelming, threatening to rise up and cut off her oxygen supply, the insistent ticking of the large clock doing nothing to quell the tension in her body. Hannah’s attention fixed left toward the place she’d heard the cry before.
“That should put pay to that.” Lawes’ voice sent terror rushing to her core, and for one awful second, her feet stopped moving altogether. “April should know better, but I’m not surprised.”
Hannah was frozen to the spot like a deer in the headlights of a speeding car, her gaze rooted to the place she knew her plight hung in the balance.
Come on, Han. The small voice inside her head screamed the urgent plea at her. Come on—move! Move now before they come around the corner and catch you here…
Swallowing back on the alarm, Hannah moved at her own suggestion, breaking into as light-footed a run as she could manage. She reached the spotless waiting room and headed for the entrance, swinging back the porch door before she lurched for the main entrance. Her insides clenched at the sound of Lawes’ voice behind her, and Hannah gulped, glancing back over her shoulder with dread.
From the far right corner, she could see Lawes and Matthew wandering back toward the treatment room, apparently still blissfully unaware of their error or her escape. Acting on instinct, Hannah fell to the floor, pressing her palms into the hard door mat. Only the top half of the porch doors were glass, and she reasoned she could hide behind the wooden part if they happened to look her way. That would buy Hannah some time. A few minutes—maybe less—until Lawes discovered Hannah was gone.
Twenty-Two
Hope?
Pressed into the bristles of the mat that lined the entra
nceway, Hannah’s skin protested, but the complaints were muffled almost entirely by the panic pounding in her head. Lawes was on the other side of that door. Just a short distance from where she was lying, palms pushed into the hard fibers, barely able to take another breath. It would only be a matter of time before he and Matthew wandered back into the room she’d fled, realized they’d not restrained her properly, and discovered her absence. Hannah had to get up. She had to be brave. She had to make a run for it.
Using what strength she had left, Hannah forced her focus right, her gaze rising to the grandiose doors that now kept her from the outside world. Surely, they would be locked? There was no way Lawes and Fuller could be so arrogant, they’d leave the main entrance unsupervised and unlocked when there were rooms full of captive women downstairs—was there?
With a deep breath, she inched her body in the direction of the door. Hannah still couldn’t risk standing and being seen, but she had to know—she had to at least try the right side and find out if it was a viable option. After all, it had been open when she’d arrived yesterday, but perhaps they only left it that way when they were expecting a new arrival. Her belly clenched, the recollection of the whole contrived set up furling into fury inside her.
This wasn’t just bad luck. Hannah wasn’t the victim of an unfortunate series of events or been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She’d been chosen for this—sent a letter and proactively engaged into becoming a victim—and like the bloody fool she was, Hannah had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. She’d believed the letter. She’d believed Matthew’s voice at the end of the phone. Hell, Hannah had walked into the building of her own free will—that was the real rub and the hardest part to swallow.
She’d been complicit in her own capture.
She was at the door now, the impressive teak structure rising above her like a disapproving god, but the question was, how would that god choose to judge her? Would it hold firm, containing her and ensuring Hannah stayed in his fucked-up hell, or would it be merciful? Would it allow her to escape?
Captured: A Dark Suspenseful Gothic Romance (The Rule of Lawes Series Book 1) Page 15
