by J. L. Beck
All I can think is how my sister will never be saved.
How my parents will either lose both of their children or lose their own lives.
“Please…” I beg, not even sure what I’m begging for. I do know he is not here to drop me off and let me go. He is going to use my parents against me because he can’t bring himself to hurt me anymore.
Markus’s cold eyes cut to me. There is no emotion there, just my own reflection. He’s cold, heartless, a statue. My words will not reach him, and still, I have to try. I can’t die here.
“Don’t do this, please. I didn’t do anything. I’ve been good.” His huge hand comes out of nowhere, and I flinch, afraid that he’s going to hit me.
All he does is place his hand firmly over my mouth. He shakes his head, all but saying to shut up. My eyes dart to the gun in his other hand, and the tears welling in my eyes finally fall, slipping down my cheeks without permission.
There isn’t a single ounce of remorse in his eyes.
After everything, it comes down to this.
“I want you to think long and hard before you answer the question I’m about to ask you because the wrong answer is going to result in one of your parents dying. Got it?”
Shock. It rattles me to the core. I’m not sure why, but I never thought he would go this far, that he would find a way to hurt me without actually hurting me. Staring into his eyes, I know I have no options. It’s either tell him what he wants or risk one of my parent’s dying.
That’s just not a risk I can take. He will do it. I know he will.
The Markus in front of me now is the cold, calculated one, not the man who was gentle and kind to me the other night, and not even the one who put me in the cell. This is the Markus you can’t reach, no matter how hard you try. Left with no options, I nod my head.
“Who were you trying to call in my office?” I swallow at the intensity of his stare and words. I can’t breathe, can’t do anything. He pulls his hand away to give me a chance to answer. A lie forms on the tip of my tongue… would he really do it?
I look at the gun in his other hand. Yes, yes, he’s going to do it.
“If you lie to me, I’m shooting both of them.” He doesn’t even blink.
I’m trapped in a corner, and even though the gun isn’t pointed at my head, it might as well be. Telling him the truth will ruin my chances of saving my sister, but what choice do I have? None. I have no choice.
“Please, Markus, don’t hurt them. They have nothing to do with this.”
“Tell me, now!” he roars like a beast, slamming his fist down on the center console, the rage in his voice making me shudder.
“Okay.” The air wheezes out of my chest, and I close my eyes and open them again, trying to calm myself enough to fully speak.
“They… they took my sister and forced me into doing the auction. When I went into the office, I was trying to call them so that I could let them know I was alive. I’m worried they’ll kill her if I don’t get in contact with them soon.”
Markus remains staring at me, not saying a single word. He’s quiet, and that scares me. Why isn’t he saying anything? Does he not believe me? Is he still going to shoot my parents? I find it hard to breathe, my lungs burning as if they have no oxygen in them.
“Please, don’t kill them. Please! You have to believe me, Markus.” My voice rises with each word I say till it sounds like I’m screaming.
“Stop! Calm down. I’m not going to hurt anyone,” he snaps, and immediately, I close my mouth. Why is it that even though he just threatened my parents’ lives, I want to bury my face in his chest and have him soothe the fear that he put there.
I breathe deeply in and out of my nose a few times to try and get myself to calm down.
He’s not going to hurt them. Everything is going to be okay.
Giving me a moment to gather my wits, he asks a second later, “Who are they?”
I shake my head. “They wore masks when they took me. They told me that they would kill her if I didn’t do as they said. All I wanted was to call her to make sure she was okay…”
Markus puts the gun back into the glovebox and closes it. Even though it’s put away, I’m still afraid. Afraid of what he threatened. Afraid of what might have happened. I’m shaken to the core, completely rattled, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to piece myself back together.
Putting the car in drive, Markus pulls away from the curb and starts driving once more. I look back at my parents’ house, wondering what they would think of me right now. I yearn to go in there, to hug my mom and tell her I’m sorry, but all I do is watch the house get smaller in the rearview mirror as we go further down the road.
I glance over at Markus, his features are unreadable, and I’m not sure what he’s thinking or if he even believes me. I want him to hold me, take me into his arms, and tell me everything will be okay, but he won’t. That’s not the type of man he is. He’s not going to comfort me or care for me. He’s going to take and take until there is nothing left.
“When we get back to the cabin, I want you to write the number down.”
All I do is nod. I’m not sure what he plans to do. Perhaps call them? I turn in my seat and look out the window, watching my hometown flash before my eyes as we drive away. How am I possibly going to save my sister now? I doubt Markus is going to let me call them. And even if I do… if he finds out that I only told him half the truth, I don’t know what he’ll do.
I squeeze my eyes closed and breathe deeply through my nose. The walls are closing in around me, and there’s nowhere for me to escape. I’m stuck, and the closer the walls get, the more anxious I become. Soon they’ll squeeze the truth right out of me, and when that happens, I’m not sure Markus and I will be on the same side anymore.
Not once he discovers what I was sent here to do.
24
Markus
You would think I would be used to despair, dealing with those with a broken soul, being in the business that I am but seeing Fallon so completely broken. So scared and frightened. It fucking ruined me. The guilt presses down on me, and with every thump of my heart, the pressure inside my chest grows.
Despite the guilt, I can’t let her off the hook. Yes, she was forced to lie to me, but she lied to me, nevertheless. Matter of fact, she is still lying to me. Because there is no way she doesn’t know more.
“What do they want you to do?” I ask, after driving for a while. I needed time to compose myself. Keeping myself from grabbing her and shaking all the information out of her. Luckily, Fallon stayed quiet, so I could calm down in my own time.
“I don’t know. They said they would tell me when I called.”
“How exactly did you end up at the auction, and how did you get that number? Be specific. I want every single detail you remember.”
“I was walking home from class when two men, both wearing black hoodies, grabbed me. I couldn’t even see their hair color or anything. The only thing I could tell from their voices was that one was an older man.”
She pauses, and I glance over at her. She is looking out of the windshield, her forehead scrunched up like she is trying to remember that day.
“They showed me a picture of my sister. She was tied up…” Fallon’s voice becomes shaky, “They told me to cooperate, or they would kill her.”
“What did they ask you to do?”
“At first, they just gave me a piece of paper with the number on it and told me to memorize it. We drove around a little bit, and then we stopped at a building. The same one the auction was at. The older man brought me inside.”
Fallon shifts in her seat, nervously. Clearly, she doesn’t want to talk about this, but there is no other choice. I want answers now, not on her terms.
“Did the man seem to know the people who ran the auction?”
“He must have talked to them before because they were expecting us. They were talking about someone specific buying me, which I didn’t understand. I still don’t, really. How did
they know you would buy me?” I can feel her eyes on me, waiting for my reply.
Fuck. What am I going to tell her? Not wanting to lie to her, I say nothing at all. Instead, I think about what this means. Whoever sent Fallon knew about Victoria. They knew I would want her. They also had to know I would be at the auction in the first place.
I get the feeling that Fallon has added this up already but hasn’t said anything. She knows more than she is letting on, and I need the information she has to figure out who it is that sent her, but most importantly, why?
“Do you know anything else? Is there anything that sticks out to you?” I try to hide the anger in my voice.
I’m not sure how I’m going to get the answers out of her. I’ve done everything, used every tactic I can think of, minus physically hurting her, and I don’t even want to think about going there. The thought of hurting her… of marking her flesh with bruises makes me sick to my stomach. I could never force myself to strike her, not even while knowing she holds all the answers. I can’t.
Fallon shakes her blonde head. Her eyes are glued to the floor of the vehicle, and without knowing it, she’s giving herself away. “No. I have the number I can give you, but aside from that, I already told you everything. I know as much as you do.”
Thankfully, we pull into the driveway, arriving back at the cabin. Which is what I need, to put some space between us, give myself some time to digest the information that I just discovered. It’s obvious that someone is after me and that Fallon was sent for a reason. She’s a damn near spitting image of my past. A past that has haunted me for years, a past that shaped me into the man I am today.
I park the SUV and get out, walking over to Fallon’s side. She slips out of the car and falls into step beside me. When we’re inside the house, I walk straight to the whiskey cabinet. I’m tempted to grab the bottle and take it with me over to the couch, but instead, choose to pour myself a glass. I don’t want to get drunk, not when I need to remain alert and focused.
Taking a massive gulp, I let the distinct burn of the whiskey resonate through me. It hits my belly like a weighted brick.
Twisting the glass in my hand, I find Fallon standing beside me, watching me. I’m almost angry because all along, she was doing this because she had to. She didn’t run, not because she didn’t want to, but because doing so risked her sister’s life. Knowing she lied from the very start, at least to some degree. My grip on the crystal glass tightens. I don’t know how I’ve kept myself from imploding on her.
She’s so fucking brave and stupid. Brave for doing what it takes for her sister, but stupid for listening to someone who is obviously after me. But I suppose if the roles were reversed, I’d do the same, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t any decent human?
“I want that number,” I tell her before taking another gulp.
“Okay…” She wrings her hands together, nervously.
I pull out my phone and swipe my fingers across the screen to unlock it. When she doesn’t say anything, I clear my throat. She jumps a foot off the ground, and I can see the moment her heart jumps into her throat.
After a second, she rattles off the numbers, and I punch them into my phone.
“Go start dinner,” I order brashly.
Fallon looks down at her feet, and for a second, she stands there, just stands, and I wonder if I’m going to have to threaten her or if she has something more she wants to say, but the words connect, and she walks into the kitchen, disappearing from view.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I down the rest of the whiskey. I place the glass back on the little bar top and stare at the illuminated screen.
My thumb presses the green call key, and I bring the phone to my ear. I’m not sure what I was expecting… but before I get the chance to put together a reaction, the phone says: the number you have dialed has been temporarily disconnected.
It’s by the grace of God that I don’t whip my phone across the room.
She lied to me.
I fucking know it. There is no way they would give her a number and have it be disconnected. They wanted her to find a way to reach them, which is why they gave her the number in the first place.
That means that not only did she lie to me, she purposely gave me the wrong number. She might be trying to protect her sister, but she’s going to end up getting herself hurt in the end. I won’t stop till I know who is behind this. Barely talking myself off the cliff’s edge, I walk into the kitchen. If she wants to play a game, then we both can play.
She has nothing here. Just me, and the only way to make it out of this is with my help.
“The number was disconnected,” I say nonchalantly.
Fallon looks up from the vegetables she’s cutting. “What? That’s the number they gave me. How will I get in contact with them?” She tries her best to act shocked, and even a bit sad, but I see through her like an open window.
Her eyes skirt away from mine when I attempt to make eye contact.
She’s just digging herself a deeper hole.
I move into her space and grab onto the counter. I’ve scared her enough today, pushed her to the edge already, but I want her to know I’m onto her. I want her to know that she’s not safe playing this game. I won’t protect her, knowing she is working with the person who is after me, even with her sister’s life hanging in the balance.
“I know you think I’m stupid, but believe me, I’m not. You gave me the wrong number on purpose. You’re afraid of what’s going to happen, but if I were you, I wouldn’t be worried about your sister. I’d be worrying about yourself because lying to me…” I lean down and pause. I can see the fear rising in her eyes. “If you are lying to me again, I can’t be held accountable for what I’m going to do to you.”
She’s afraid of me. Afraid of what I might do, and now she’ll be anxious and waiting.
“Please, Markus.” Her lip wobbles, and I want to bite it.
I want to tell her she shouldn’t have lied to me, but I don’t. I press my lips into a thin line and shake my head, driving the urge to kiss her down.
“Don’t worry, Fallon, by the time we’re finished, you’ll tell me everything I want to know without me even having to ask.”
Her blue eyes grow impossibly round, and I run my thumb across her bottom lip, all while wondering if I could kiss the truth right out of her?
“Get on your knees,” I say in a brisk order.
She blinks, the fear still in her eyes, though it’s diminished a bit. “What?”
My teeth grind together. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The little lump in her throat bobs, and she drops the knife onto the cutting board. Like the obedient little lamb she is, she drops to her knees. She peers up at me, her eyes shining with an unknown emotion. She is still afraid, yes, but there is something more.
“Undo my pants and free my cock.”
“Markus.” She tries to reason, but for every lie, every wrong move on a chessboard, there is a consequence, and this is hers. When she doesn’t make an attempt to do anything, I attack.
Like a predator, I sink my hand into her soft golden locks and tug her head back. Soft, delicate features. Full plump lips. Everything about her makes me hungry. Makes me want to be better, do better. Maybe I could, but then again, maybe I couldn’t. I’m not the man she makes up in her mind, whoever he is. I’m a beast, a monster, the villain.
Leaning into her face, I run my nose over her cheekbone, the bridge of her nose, inhaling her, wishing she trusted me enough to tell me everything. So soft, so perfect… a liar.
Pulling back, I growl, “Do it, or would you rather I fuck your ass without care?”
“No,” she whimpers.
I release her hair. “Good, then undo my fucking pants, pull my cock out, and get ready to choke.”
Her gaze drops to the swell in my jeans, and she flicks the button, undoing them, and shoving them down my hips. I bet she’s wondering if I’m really going to hurt her. If this is a true punishment or not?
Honestly, I haven’t decided.
My thoughts fly out the window the moment her hands wrap around my cock. Fuck, her touch undoes me. It unwraps me from the inside out, leaving all my protective insides vulnerable. Still, no matter how good her hands feel on me, it’s her mouth that I want.
Swatting her hand away, I find myself gripping her by the back of the neck, my hold unyielding. “I want your fucking mouth,” I grit out.
As if I’m not close enough to the edge of insanity, she drives me the last inch there when she places one hand on my thigh and leans forward, taking the mushroom-shaped head of my cock into her mouth. It’s both heaven and hell. The warmth of her wet mouth surrounds me, and I have to remind myself that this is her punishment.
I’m using her for my own pleasure. Using her hot mouth.
“Open up wide,” I groan.
With her trustful gaze on mine, she obeys, and I grit my teeth, knowing what’s to come. Releasing the nape of her neck, I take both hands and cradle the side of her face, almost protectively. Without warning, I thrust to the hilt, my cock hits the back of her throat, and she gags like I anticipated, her hands pushing against my thighs in terror as I hold myself there for a moment before pulling back.
A wheezing noise meets my ears as she sucks a breath of air into her lungs like it will be her last. I allow myself to look down at her for one brief second and find that tears are already leaking out the corner of her eyes. Below me, she looks so delicate, so fucking perfect, a fragile flower pushing through the concrete, wanting to prevail no matter how damning the circumstance.
It makes me want to break her. No, I have to break her. I need her to tell me everything, need her to be broken and afraid. Need her to need me.
Forcing myself forward, I repeat the process again, but this time I move faster. I slide deep, relishing in the loud gagging sound she makes and the way her tiny throat tries to swallow around my cock. Saliva dribbles out the side of her mouth and down her chin, and I swear I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
