“Well I suppose while you’re at it you should add kidnapping to that list.” Tristen’s voice was filled with laughter. Vicky was about to ask what the hell he was talking about when the pain repeated in her head. He’d hit her again with something rock hard. She collapsed to the ground as he released her hair and her vision blurred with unconsciousness. She was just conscious enough to hear the chime of the phone again just before she fell into darkness.
Chapter Four
Tristen thrust the dead weight of Vicky’s body up into his arms and threw her onto the bed. Grabbing a length of rope he tightened it around her wrists as she began to come to her senses. A groan of pain escaped her as she attempted to move her hand. He laughed as he watched her begin to struggle. He had his power back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as he headed over to the desk where he’d watched her about to open the top drawer. He pulled it open and grinned to himself. Jackpot. He grabbed the handgun from the drawer and turned back to Vicky.
He was startled to see that she had turned over and was now sitting up. It shocked him how quickly she had managed to move. “Stop fidgeting!” Tristen ordered as he removed the safety on the gun and pointed it toward Vicky.
“Are you sure you know how to use that?” Vicky asked. She was squinting as though the bright morning light that filtered through the window was hurting her eyes.
“I’m not sure but we’ll soon see, if you try anything,” Tristen smirked, “I’m pretty sure you’re not in a position to take that risk.”
“Ok, look, Tristen you don’t need to do this.” Vicky’s voice was filled with pleading. It made Tristen feel empowered. He shook the gun in the direction of the bedroom door and ordered,
“Get up and start moving. We’re leaving.” Vicky looked for a moment as though she was about to refuse.
“Don’t test my patience.” Tristen shouted as he grabbed hold of her elbow and pulled her off the bed, “Get moving.” He ordered as he turned her toward the door and pushed her forward pressing the gun into her spine. His heart was pounding now. The adrenaline of everything was pumping through his veins making him breathe quickly. He held Vicky’s shoulder and walked her through the bedroom door and out into the apartment. He was relieved to see that the curtains of the room were closed. There was no way anybody could have seen the actions that had just taken place or what he was about to do.
“Can I at least grab my jacket?” Vicky asked suddenly stopping beside the coat rack at the front door.
“I could put a bullet in your back and you’re worrying about being cold!” Tristen hissed in disbelief, “Just move!”
He pulled open the front door for her. He looked both ways down the hallway before pushing her forward. There was nobody around. They reached the bottom floor before they encountered anyone. Tristen hid the gun in his jacket and put his arm around Vicky’s shoulders.
“You know you won’t get away with this don’t you?” she spoke in a hushed tone as he forced her through the building’s front door.
***
Vicky hit her head on the roof of the car as Tristen shoved her into the banged up death trap.
“Don’t move!” he ordered as he slammed the door shut behind her and rushed around to throw himself in the driver’s seat. Vicky was shocked when she saw him take the car keys from his pocket. She had half expected him to hotwire it.
“Where are you taking me?” Vicky asked as he put the keys in the ignition and pulled the car out of the car park. He suddenly slammed his foot down on the brakes and turned to look at her.
“I almost forgot.” He laughed as he took a long piece of cloth from his pocket, “Come here.” He demanded. Vicky did as she was told and leaned forward. Her eyesight was cut off as he tied the cloth around her dead.
She tried not to let him notice as she tried to move her head to get the cloth to move so that she could see.
“Sit still.” Tristen growled. Vicky could feel the vehicle moving extremely fast and she felt terrified as she realized for the first time that he hadn’t put her seat belt on. She knew that if they crashed at the speed they were going her chances of survival were almost zero.
She held her breath as she waited for it all to be over. It was like waiting for the grim reaper. If they didn’t crash he would probably kill her another way. There was no way he would let her go after he’d finished with her. She was one of the people who could put him away for a very long time and that meant that he had to get rid of her. He needed to cover his tracks. What he didn’t know was that she’d already filed her reports and whoever took over would probably do a good job in finding him.
It wasn’t long before the car careened to a halt. The driver’s door opened and slammed shut making the car shake. A moment later her door was open and an iron grip had hold of her elbow. She stumbled out of the car as he pulled her toward him. The sound of a police car siren sounded in the distance and she felt her moment of hopefulness.
That hope dissolved as she felt the barrel of her gun at her spine again and he shoved her forward. The stench of weed hit her nostrils as he forced her into a door which swung open with a loud creak. She stubbed her toe on something in front of her and squealed in pain.
“Shut up!” Tristen hissed as he forced the gun hard against her spine.
“You know I might be a little quieter if I could see where I was walking!” Vicky couldn’t help the anger in her tone. She was growing impatient. She just wanted him to put the bullet in her back and have it over with. He ripped the cloth away from her head, jerking her neck so hard that the earlier pain and discomfort of an uncomfortable night’s sleep came back up. Her head throbbed where he’d hit her and knocked her unconscious.
“Get upstairs. I don’t want to hear another sound.” Tristen pushed her forward so forcefully that she nearly fell face forward onto the stairs. The only thing that stopped her falling was her shoulder slamming painfully against the broken banister.
She hurried up the stairs and a thought suddenly came to her mind. She might not be wearing any shoes but she could still run. She stopped suddenly and slammed her head backward praying to hit something. Tristen squealed in shock as her head connected with his and he fell backward. As he fell she turned and began to race back toward the front door, avoiding standing on the heroine needles that littered the floor of the apartment building. She had just reached the boarded door when she felt someone grab her elbow.
“Nice try.” Tristen grinned at her as he pulled her round to look at him, “You’re lucky you’re pretty or you’d be dead already. I have other plans for you first.” he raised the hand holding the gun to his nose that was now dripping with blood.
Vicky sighed with unmasked disappointment as she realized she wasn’t getting away that easily. He lowered his hand back to stomach height and pulled her by her elbow back toward the stairs. This time, walking at her side her held the gun close to her hip, holding onto her arm as he led her up the stairs.
They were two floors up before they finally turned off the stairwell and toward a door which the number 13 hanging off it. Vicky found it almost laughable that the most unlucky number in the world was on the door of the room they were about to enter. Tristen removed another key from his pocket and unlocked the door keeping the gun pointed in her direction.
The room that the door opened onto was bare. The only furniture in the open plan living room and kitchen was a bare mattress with a folded blanket where a pillow should have been. The only other pieces of furniture were the built in kitchen counters and a worn wooden chair that sat beside the bed. Its seat was covered in a large pile of books. There were no appliances in the kitchen. Bare wires hung from where the light should have been in the ceiling. The whole room smelled of damp but she was relieved to realize that it didn’t smell of drugs or booze. It must have been the only room in the whole building that didn’t.
“Get inside.” Tristen ordered. He forced her forward, remaining in the hallway fo
r a few moments to check that nobody had seen them. When he entered the room, he closed the door quickly and turned to look at Vicky. She felt nauseous as she watched him look her up and down. His hazel eyes glinted as he stopped on her breasts where the top buttons of her pyjamas had burst open in her struggle. After a few moments Tristen turned and placed the key back in the door, locking it before placing the key back in his pocket.
“Sit.” Tristen told her as he gestured toward the mattress. Vicky looked at the thin layer of filth on the mattress and shook her head.
“I’d rather stand.” She protested. Tristen’s face twisted with anger as he raised the gun to point it at her.
“Sit.” He repeated. Vicky gulped hard as she forced herself down on the mattress. A cloud of dust burst up into the air around her. In that moment Vicky felt sorry for the man. How can anyone live like this? She thought as she glanced around her. The window behind her was boarded up but a draft still filtered in through the cracks around the edges of the board.
Tristen finally put the gun down. He placed it on the kitchen counter before removing the knife which he’d picked up off Vicky’s bedroom floor from his pocket. Vicky found herself shivering uncontrollably though not from fear. She was freezing.
“Are you going to keep fighting me?” Tristen asked as he crossed the room toward her and stood in front of her.
“What do you expect me to do? Just give up and let you kill me?” Vicky demanded. She felt a wave of bravery as she realized that if she needed to she might be able to force the knife out of his hand. She had a better chance of doing so than if he’d still been wielding the gun. As he grabbed hold of the wooden chair and threw the books from it, he told her,
“I’m not going to kill you. At least not yet. I want to have a little fun first. Don’t you want to have some fun with me?” he laughed as he placed the chair in front of her and sat down with the knife pointed in her direction.
“Well I am a fun loving girl but I’m sure we’re not thinking of the same kind of fun right now.” Vicky replied. Her voice was edged with sarcasm and Tristen seemed to pick up on it.
“What’s the matter Detective? Don’t you find me attractive?” he asked. Vicky thought for a moment on how she should answer him. She didn’t want to anger him. Her life was in enough danger as it was.
“Don’t get me wrong. You are very good looking but I’m not really available for that kind of thing. I mean if you didn’t already know. I’m married.” She twisted her body enough to show him the gold ring that banded her wedding finger.
She was shocked at his reaction. He began to laugh. “That’s not a marriage,” his voice was like the purr of a cat. It was like he was mocking her, “I saw you last night. I saw the way he treated you. In fact I wanted to hurt him when I saw what he was doing to you.”
“But you’re exactly like him.” Vicky regretted the words as soon as they were out. Tristen’s eyes lit with anger and he jerked his hand forward with the knife.
“I am nothing like him. I would never do that to a woman I love. I pleasure them. I give them what they want. All those women…they were asking for it.” Tristen explained. His voice was tinged with anger and frustration.
“How can you pleasure someone who is frightened of you?” Vicky asked. She tried to keep her voice soft. She didn’t want to enrage him further.
“I’ll show you.” Tristen grinned at her. He suddenly dropped the knife. It clattered to the wooden floor as he forced himself upon Vicky. She struggled against him with the ropes around her wrists tightening painfully.
“Please don’t.” Vicky protested as he pinned her to the mattress. He leaned on his elbows above her and looked down at her. His eyes sparked with pleasure as he raised a hand and stroked her cheek.
“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke as his hand lingered on the bruising of her face, “How could someone spoil something so beautiful.” It was almost as though he was speaking to himself. It was as though she was an object that he was admiring as though she wasn’t a real living person. She was shocked at his gentleness but she was even more shocked at the feeling she felt deep in her stomach as she felt him pressed up against her. She could feel the length of his erection through his trousers. He rubbed up against her and she shivered; this time not from the cold. She wanted to smack herself across the face. How could she be feeling this way?
“Please stop.” She begged. This time she was talking to herself. She couldn’t allow herself to feel this way.
“Shut up!” Tristen ordered as he forced her wriggling shoulders down into the mattress. The springs of the mattress poked into her back only adding to the strange sensations that were already surging through her body. He pressed his lips against hers with bruising force and grabbed hold of her hair. Her scalp burned as he forced her to tilt her head up so that her neck was exposed. Her whole body shivered as she felt his soft lips caress her skin.
That’s when her body gave an involuntary spasm and she turned forcing him off of her onto the floor. He lay winded beside her for a moment as he caught his breath and grinned as though he was half satisfied.
“So your telling me that wasn’t pleasurable?” Tristen laughed, “Your body was telling me differently. I felt you shaking.”
“I’m cold!” Vicky protested all too quickly and Tristen laughed again.
“Women love a man who takes control. It makes them wet. I can see it in their eyes and feel it in the way their body responds.” Tristen explained as he pushed himself to his feet.
A few moments later he was straddling her. His fingers played with one of the buttons on her top. The room seemed to close in around them as Vicky watched, waiting for him to make his next move. She was shocked when all of a sudden he removed his jacket and slipped out of his t-shirt. Her eyes almost burst from her head as she saw the wide expanse of tightened muscle that was his torso. The sight ignited a flame inside her that she hadn’t known existed. She shut her eyes against the sight and tried to force a disgusted expression to show him how much she hated what he was doing. The expression faltered as she felt his hands on her top again. Buttons popped and scattered across the floor as he ripped her pyjama told open. An involuntary groan escaped her as he cupped her breasts with a reasonable amount of force.
“See, you love it.” Tristen laughed. She knew that if she’d looked at him he would have been grinning. Instead she kept her eyes closed. A moment later she felt the sweet torture of teeth around her nipple. He bit down gently. Her heart pounded almost out of her chest and she wriggled trying to escape his grasp.
“Stop it!” he demanded. She squealed as he slapped her breast. The sensation only made her nipples harder.
“No, I don’t want this!” Vicky shouted as loudly as she could. She thought that maybe if she said it loud enough she might actually believe it herself.
“Oh but you do.” Tristen’s voice was close to her ear. As she breathed deeply, trying to control herself she was startled at how good he smelled. Without his grimy jacket and t-shirt he smelled pleasant. He smelled of soap and sweat. The masculine scent of him washed over her as he pressed himself against her once again.
He grinded against her. The feel of his muscular body against her made her wet with arousal. It was a torturous feeling. She hated herself for it. She was a cop. How could she possibly feel this way for a hardened criminal?
Her heart thudded uncontrollably as he grabbed the waist band of her pyjama bottoms. She squealed and tried to force herself back into her trousers as he pulled them from her legs.
“No!” she screamed but he didn’t listen. He threw the trousers to the floor beside them and turned to look at her. Other than the sleeves of her pyjama top that still covered her arms she was completely naked.
“Detective, don’t make me hurt you.” Tristen’s voice was soft as though he was speaking to a lover.
“Vicky! My name is Vicky!” she gasped as his hands traced down her sides to her hips. A moment later he ripped her legs apart with enou
gh force to for it to hurt just a little. She knew what was coming. It made her nauseous. She couldn’t stand the thought of having a criminal inside her. She couldn’t stand the thought of letting him defile her. But under those feelings was a strange thought. It was the thought that maybe just maybe this was better for her. She thought of Ian’s cruel grip and how when he was in the mood he would force her into doing sexual actions that she no longer wished to perform with him. Tristen may have been forcing himself on her but at least he wasn’t hurting her. He hadn’t done anything yet that would cause bruising or bleeding. In fact he was almost gentle. It was as though he really was thinking of her pleasure.
Vicky gritted her teeth as he ran a finger up the inside of her leg. She shivered with ecstasy as he grew closer and closer to her privates. Her vision blurred as she felt his fingertip pressed firmly against her clit.
“Please stop.” She begged. She couldn’t take it. She wanted nothing more than to punch him in the temple and run. Unfortunately her hands were still tied and there was nothing she could do. The pressure against her clit grew and he began to move his finger in a circular motion. Vicky choked on her groans. She couldn’t let him see the pleasure he was coursing inside her. The torture was too much. The feeling caused a burning sensation over every inch of her skin.
“Please, please, stop!” Vicky screamed. A hand covered her mouth, forcefully. She had never felt such a sensation in her life. The only other person she had ever had touch her down there was her husband. He had never taken any thought in her pleasure. Even when they had been happy before their marriage; before he showed her what a cruel man he was, he had never taken the time to make sure she was satisfied. Whenever they had been intimate she would spend all her time trying to please him.
Taken: Against My Will Page 3
