BLAKE: Captive to the Dark

by Angelini, Alaska

  “You scared, tough guy?” The engine accelerated and the car jumped. My glare had him giving me an amused look.

  “If you wreck, you better hope you kill me because I swear you won’t be alive after I get done with you.”

  Preston slowed, but not because I wanted him to. “Look at that. You’re alive. I saved you time, so stop bitchin’. I want to find her, too.” If I didn’t need his help, I would have throttled him.

  The road he turned onto had houses that reminded me of my parents’ home. The mansions all had to have been at least ten thousand square feet, some closer to twenty. Most were two-story, if not three. The large iron gates that sealed them in promised security. Didn’t they see no one was safe if someone was determined to get them? I did. I knew that now. My hand rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t slept since Kaitlyn had been taken and it was starting to take its toll.

  The large wall that surrounded a gate gave way to one of the biggest mansions I’d ever seen. Preston rolled through without a pause. What kind of man was so secure that he’d leave his home open to anyone? Maybe he’d been expecting Preston, but still.

  As I took in the large, white, two-story home with dark blue shutters, I couldn’t believe a modeling agent could own this. Mickey was pretty well off. Was he the blackmailer? Was my girl here now? Fuck, I was itching to get inside to find out.

  The driveway circled around to the front door and Preston put the car in park. “Mickey usually allows the shoots to take place at his home if there’s not really a certain theme. They’re probably waiting for me to show up anyway. You know he’s not going to be too happy right?”

  My eyebrows drew in. “He’d be upset that you’re cancelling a shoot because you’re concerned over a friend. His former client?

  “You don’t know Mickey. He loves his money.” Preston threw open the door and we both got out. I followed him in through the opened front door. That, too, gave me pause. Who left their door open?

  A large grand staircase swept up both sides of the living area. Crystal sparkled from the chandelier that was centered in the middle. The thing had to have been six feet across. A flurry of activity took my attention from the expensive paintings hanging on the walls. A woman was outstretched on a blue chaise in a black satin bra and panties. The bright red hair cascaded onto the cushions and she held a position with her finger resting at her full bottom lip. The green eyes that shot over, met mine and stuck. I turned, scanning the other people in the room.

  Toward the back, make-up artists applied foundation to two others’ faces. It didn’t hold my attention. The photographer kept clicking away, moving around at different angles. Preston nudged my arm and I followed him through a pair of French doors leading to the back. A man in black speedos was lying in a reclining chair next to the pool. The sight caused me to nearly groan. It was so cliché.

  “Mickey. You get my message?” Preston took a seat in the chair next to him and I didn’t bother sitting. This place made me uncomfortable as hell. The layout reminded me way too much of my parents’ home. I couldn’t stand it. Not to mention, I couldn’t imagine my slave in this sort of life. Didn’t want to.

  “No, I’m not taking calls today.” His face turned to me and I watched as his head lifted up and down, checking out my body. “Now, who is this?” He sat up, pulling up his aviators. Why had I expected him to be some fat, old man? This guy was only a little older than my thirty-two years. “You’re here for a job? I could get you plenty of work.” He stood, eying me like I was candy. I growled.

  “Blake Morgan. I’m here about Kaitlyn Summers.”

  The interest immediately died and he raised his eyebrow at Preston. “You brought the thief to my house?”

  “Thief?” The anger in my tone sounded way too threatening. I took a deep breath as he continued.

  “You stole my best model, buddy. I could have had her fixed, yet Preston says she didn’t even want to see me. I flew all the way to Texas to get the fucking runaround. No one would tell me where she was. Now, here you are. Are you trying to get Kaitlyn fixed? I might only do it if she gives you the boot. You cost me a lot of money. I don’t do well with people who piss away my hard work.”

  Just the mention of having the scar removed rubbed me the wrong way. I’d worked so hard getting her to accept the way she looked. Then this…I couldn’t stand it. I pushed him back down into his chair almost causing him to fall sideways into the pool. “Kaitlyn won’t be getting fixed, thanks. She’s beautiful just the way she is. I’m here because she’s been taken and the way you speak of money sounds just like the guy who was blackmailing her before and after she returned.”

  For a few seconds, he didn’t speak. Didn’t even move. “Someone took her again? Jesus Christ.” His face grew tight. “Listen, why would I blackmail her?” He waved his hands around. “Does it look like I need money? Shit, I wanted her back, yeah, but to work!”

  I stole a glance at Preston, not wanting to overlook him as a possible suspect. I may have had to use him get me closer to Kaitlyn, but that didn’t mean I had to trust him. “The blackmailer obviously doesn’t care for money. I told him to name his price. He was more interested in selling her. He wants her hurt, possibly dead. Who did she know that would want to do something like that? I need names. Connections. Anyone you know. Time is wasting and I want her found. Now.”

  Mickey and Pretty Boy looked at each other and I waited while they exchanged glances. A few seconds went by and Mickey shrugged. “I don’t know, truthfully. Kaitlyn wasn’t like the others. That’s why I liked her so much. She was humble. Partying wasn’t her thing. She kept to herself. Didn’t date, at least to my knowledge. She was always on time. Always ready to work her ass off for me.”

  “What do you know about Dark Dave’s?” Preston asked, but it had been right on the tip of my tongue.

  “The sex club?” Mickey reached over and grabbed his drink from the table at his side. “Well, it’s been a few years since I’ve hit it up. Not really my style. I’m all for some handcuffs every now and then, but what I saw was just wild. I do know the guy who owns it. Harvey Schultz. The club is just one of many the things he’s invested in. I’m talking some high-end real estate, restaurants, maybe another club or two. I think he may even have a hotel.” He took a big drink. “Honestly, as well-known as he is, no one hardly ever sees him.”

  I licked my lips against the dry air. “He’s my guy. How do I find him?”

  Chapter 18

  Kaitlyn

  I’d been here before. Not at this exact location, but one very similar. The dirty, dank room full of girls was all too familiar. The shivers and shakes wracking our bodies from fear while we all huddled in the corner, against the walls, as through the barriers would protect us from what lay ahead was a scene I hoped to never see again. No one went anywhere near the two mattresses in the middle. That was almost begging to be raped. At least, in my mind. Maybe in theirs, too.

  The stench of sweat, blood, and piss mingled in the air and I wasn’t sure if it was the smell of the dim cell locking us in or if the metallic scent that kept making me want to gag was coming from me. I looked down at my hands, still covered in my attackers’ blood, and some of my own. The beating the two men had given me before they dropped me off had been the worst of my life. Even more critical than Andon’s. My left eye was completely closed and my face was no doubt black and blue. It sure as hell was swollen in more places than one.

  Every moment was absolute agony. My ribs protested at the slightest shift and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I’d done my fair share off and on since I’d been chloroformed.

  At first, I wasn’t sure what had happened. It took me a few hours to remember I’d been picking flowers when someone had put something over my face. Everything blurred together, and nothing had seemed right, but there was one thing I hadn’t forgotten. Even in the midst of unconsciousness. Blake. My rescuer. My Sir. He’d find me. He’d bring me home.

  The door opened, spilling in bright ligh
t, illuminating the dingy, blood stained mattresses. The women flinched and scattered like the bugs that crawled along the paint-peeling walls that surrounded us. I didn’t so much as move. I couldn’t. Didn’t care what they had planned. Let them grab me, I’d do what I can, but I knew it wouldn’t be much.

  The Spanish speaking words were rushed and my brain couldn’t decipher a single one of them.

  A scream echoed around me as one of the men pulled a girl up and carried her out. This was the third time in the last few hours. What they were doing was beyond me. The longer I was here, the better chance Blake would have to find me. To leave meant he’d have to track a new place. Maybe if I blended in as much as I could, I’d be one of the last to go. The scrambling seemed to draw more attention. I’d be good at not doing that. Hell, I was lucky to move the five feet to relieve myself in the pot they’d supplied us with. Just the thought had the odor intensifying. I lowered my head, trying to bury my face even more.

  Whimpering and sobs were my lullaby as I began to drift off again. Whether it was from the ass-kicking I’d gotten or the effects of the drugs they’d popped in my mouth the first day, I wasn’t sure. I doubted they’d still be in my system, but there was no telling what I’d ingested.

  Flashes of my Master cloaked me in a bubble of warmth and safety. I held to him, tightly, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to wake up. Not here. How long had it been since I’d been taken? Hours ticked by, more screams followed, but, still, I lay there. I shifted a few times, turning to get comfortable. The more I slept, the faster I’d heal.

  A blinding light filled the room as the door burst open again. Two men walked in, tossing a few portions of stale bread on the mattresses and a bowl of water by the door. It wasn’t until they disappeared that one of the girls dove forward and grabbed a big chunk. Two more did the same and they broke off pieces to the girls who were too afraid to move. I pushed myself up, noticing I was already feeling a little better.

  A girl who couldn’t have been older than fifteen came up, holding out her hand. I looked at the bread and then to the dirt caked under her nails and embedded in her cuticles. A smile came to my face and I took it.

  “Thank you.” The raw sound that filled my ears was surprising. I cleared my throat, noticing how dry my mouth was. I needed water if I was going to get stronger.

  “I thought they found you.”

  My eyes followed the girl down as she came to sit next to me.

  “You’re Kaitlyn Summers, aren’t you? I thought you were found.”

  “I was,” I whispered. “Seems they didn’t want me free.”

  The worrying that took over her face made me regret my words. “I’m sure it’s not like this for everyone. It’s just me. It’s fine though,” I reassured. “Blake will come. He’ll save us.”

  “Is he the one who found you the first time?”

  I nodded. “Yes, he finds slaves. He’ll come.” I pushed a piece of bread into my mouth and felt it stick to my tongue and cheeks in tiny little chunks. My eyes went to the bowl of water. Fuck. I did not want to drink out of that, but I didn’t have a choice. I’d already gone too long without water and if I waited any longer, I risked becoming seriously dehydrated.

  Twinges raced down my side as I pushed myself to stand. The cry that escaped forced me to continue. I wasn’t weak anymore. I wouldn’t ever be again.

  Each step felt like torture, but better than previous times I’d gotten up. The metal bowl that held the water looked clean enough, but I didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust anything or anyone that wasn’t my Master. But I had little choice if I wanted to survive.

  My hands scooped up the water and I sucked it down, realizing just how thirsty I really was. The thickness of my swollen tongue was like a sponge and soaked in every drop that raced over it.

  Footsteps pounded against the floor heavily, causing my hands to shake. The door flew open and I stiffened, moving more toward the wall and out of the direct sight of the tall Hispanic man I recognized as the one who came to take the girls away.

  Sobbing got louder as he approached the corner. Two girls held to each other tightly, crying and shaking as he moved in closer. “No, please,” a blonde whispered. Their fingers whitened as they clutched to one another’s arms. My heart quickened as he lunged down and grabbed the smaller blonde by the hair, forcefully ripping her away from the older of the two.

  “No!” The multiple screams had my hands coming to my ears at the force of the echo. The other girl’s eyes shadowed over and I saw the moment her expression went from fearful to crazed. Anger etched her soft features as she jumped to her feet and launched herself at the man who was dragging the smaller girl behind.

  “Give me my sister!”

  Tiny fists swung in the direction of the heavily built man and I made myself stand straighter. The door stood open. Could I make a run for it? Distract him? Were others outside?

  The older girl flew across the room at the loud, bone-crushing hit that landed across her face. The crunch made me dizzy and the unresponsiveness from her had me pushing back into the wall harder. Louder screams came from the one he had by the hair. Her legs kicked out along the floor wildly while she fought, screaming.

  “What’s your name?” The words poured from my mouth without thought. I yelled them louder as her brown eyes came to me. She didn’t answer. Didn’t stop fighting.

  The door slammed shut and I moved to the one who was lying a few feet away from me, half on the mattress, her head and chest on the floor. “Jesus.” I kneeled and pushed back the blonde hair that was now turning red from the blood coming from her mouth and nose. The pressure in my throat was tight as I reached to the side of her neck for a pulse. She didn’t seem to be breathing. The hit had been so hard.

  Sounds, from soft crying to feet shuffling, filled the room, but no one spoke. No one but the girl who’d come to me. Who knew who I was.

  “Is she…” Her quivering voice sounded loud in the enclosed space.

  I looked up. “I don’t know.” There wasn’t a heartbeat that I could feel. And if there was, it was weak. “Can you help me get her on the bed?” I knew there was no way I could do it on my own. I could hardly stand as it was.

  The dark haired girl came over and took her other arm. Somehow we managed to slide her straight onto the mattress. My side locked up and I breathed through the shooting pains.

  “I think she’s…dead,” the brunette cried out. “She’s getting so white. I…” Shaking took over her as she hugged to herself and moved to the wall, further away. “I want to go home. I want my mom!” The crying got louder, as did the sobs. Within seconds, she became hysterical. Fear had me rushing forward. If she didn’t get quiet, they’d come back.

  “Hey. Shh. What did I tell you? Blake’s coming, remember? He’s going to save us, but you have to be quiet. They’ll come. Please,” I begged. My arms outstretched and she launched herself into me enough to knock me to the side. The strangled noise that left my mouth wasn’t anywhere near what I actually felt. Tears welled in my eyes while I held her as tightly as I could, letting her release the anxieties she held inside. They wouldn’t be gone completely. I knew that. But the comfort I tried to provide was better than nothing.

  “What’s your name?” I brushed back her hair, trying to get her mind off of going back to the place that caused the breakdown to begin with.

  “Tara. Tara Collins.”

  “I like that name. Where are you from, Tara?”

  Her brown eyes rose to me, swollen and bloodshot. A hiccup shook her chest and she laid her head back down. “Santa Cruz.”

  “Santa Cruz? So close to where I’m from. How long have you been here?”

  She shrugged. “A few days. I snuck out of my house to go to a concert.” The crying began again and I stroked her arm as she continued. “I was stupid. Angry that my parents said I couldn’t go downtown. I should have listened. Now I’m going to die here and I’ll never get to tell them I’m sorry.”

  “You�
�re not going to die. If for some reason we get separated, I’ll find you Tara Collins from Santa Cruz. Never give up hope that I will. No matter what happens. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  The intensity she stared at me was soul deep. I meant what I said. I would find her. Bring her back to her parents. Blake would help me.

  “I’m Amanda.” A younger girl scooted closer to us. “Amanda Wilson from San Jose.”

  “San Jose? California, too.” My mouth parted. “I’ll remember you, too. We won’t be captives forever. We’ll be rescued. We will.” I was starting to sound like a broken record. Was I trying to convince them, or myself? Another three girls came over and my eyes widened. As they began spouting off their names and locations, I became desperate to remember each one. I was most afraid of forgetting. I couldn’t let them down. They’d be waiting for me when they left here and I couldn’t give them false hope.

  My eyes scanned around the room looking for something, anything, to try to write down who they were. At the sight of the earrings one of the girls wore, I held out my hand. She didn’t ask questions. Just handed them over.

  Painfully, I did the only thing I could think of. The one thing that I knew would give them hope above all else, even in the most darkest moments to come. I carved their name and towns into my forearm. A forever reminder to them that I would not stop searching until they were safe.

  A weird form of contentment came in a group of girls huddled together, providing each other with the one thing we all craved the most. Security. Safety in an unveiled world of nightmares. I knew how this would play out. They didn’t. I’d survived once and I’d damn sure survive again.

  Chapter 19

  Blake

  Dark Dave’s was a killer’s paradise. My eyes scanned the area and I found one thing after another that stirred my beast. As Preston and I sat at a table next to the stage, I took in a group of girls giggling and pointing at the show. A Dom was tying up an anxious, but all too willing woman from the audience. That hadn’t riled me. The older man in the suit masturbating not five feet away from them, had. I’d watched the old, fat bastard follow them around all night, eyeing a dark haired girl up, sniffing her hair when she wasn’t watching. Preston had tried to warn me, but I had never expected to see anything like this. The man screamed predator, rapist, and I wanted him dead. To see his blood covering my hands as I went to work on him with my knife.