“Doesn’t mean she could just turn tail the second she’s unsure, and don’t give me the ‘she’s damaged and needs time’ crap. That’s gotten old.” Damon wasn’t done. At least Damon didn’t keep his frustration and rage bottled up like before. Damon continued, “We fucking bared ourselves to her last night, something we never did after Lisa. She acted like a brat.”
“You’re forgetting she’s what? Twenty-one?” Jared asked dryly.
“Age doesn’t mean a thing, and you know that.”
Again, his brother hammered another point home. Sarah possessed an old and damaged soul encased in a young body. Her maturity was one of the reasons they were drawn to her in the first place. Jared latched onto that thought desperately, refusing to let go. He was onto something, but he only had a rough sketch, not the full picture.
Thinking back, their fight verged on stupidity and irrationality … but in the real world, most major fights could be set off by the tiniest things.
Last night had been the tipping point for all of them. Sarah finally accepted their ownership, or at least they presumed. They both thought they could finally move on. Was it asking too much, if Jared believed everything would eventually be right as rain, after ironing out all the kinks in their relationship?
Last night marked the start of something, a promise, and a possible future. So what went wrong?
“You’re right. Sarah wouldn’t normally react that way. Something set her off or seriously spooked her.”
Damon considered his words, and Jared could almost see the gears turning in his brother’s head. Sometimes it was scary, how similarly they thought. The phone rang again, this time from his private cell very few knew about. Seeing James’ number, Jared picked it up.
“James?”
James dispensed with pleasantries. “Is Sarah with you?”
“She left an hour ago in a hurry. We had an argument and assumed she was heading back home.”
Damon glared at him. Jared didn’t know why he let James in on that personal detail, but sudden unease coiled in his insides. Only one thing could scare their brave little sub. Damon’s gaze met his across the table, and then Damon let out a stream of creative curses.
“Jared, Bobby’s missing,” James’ voice cracked.
Jared never thought he’d see the day the cultured and firm Dom would show his vulnerable side. It took a second for the realization to sink in. Ice crawled down his spine. The skin on Jared’s back prickled.
“Sarah spoke to someone before she left. Fuck, James, please don’t tell me it wasn’t you.”
“That fucker’s dead,” Damon hissed. He leapt to his feet, demanding answers, but Jared held out a warning finger.
Jared put the phone on loudspeaker so Damon could hear. Dead silence on the other end. Jared wasn’t as violent as his brother by half, but if he could, he’d wring out James’ throat. Starting a fight with James would be counter-productive. None of them could afford to waste any more time blaming each other.
The image of their first scene with Sarah sprung up in Jared’s mind. Bound, her eyes lowered, face flushing with shame as Damon traced the awful scars and marks her monster of a husband left behind. Any of those injuries could have killed her, Damon said to him after in private. Sarah had been lucky to be alive and keep her personality intact, which was why Jared knew it hadn’t been too late.
Their little sub had courage, but how long would that last? Guilt rammed at him at the way they had left things hanging.
Had they let themselves be so trapped in the past that they couldn’t see what was in front of them? Had some selfish and ugly part of Jared hoped Sarah wasn’t the one to drag them back to the present because no one would replace Lisa?
Sarah hadn’t been the only broken piece in this equation. If Jared could see past his own raw hurt and pride, could they have avoided this? Could they have turned their weaknesses into strength, instead of letting it bog them down?
It felt like an eternity before James spoke again. “Knowing Sarah, she’ll give herself up to Michael in order to save Bobby.”
Jared couldn’t tell if it was horror, relief, or a mixture of both in James’ voice.
“Jesus, Jared. It’s happening all over again.”
Jared heard the sound of wheels in the background. “What do you mean by ‘again’? And where are you?”
“I’m heading to your apartment as we speak.” A pause. “Has she told you how she met Michael?”
“No, but you’re going to tell us. Everything,” Jared said firmly.
“My car will arrive there in twenty minutes. Jared … we don’t know each other very well, but I’ve heard you both have special connections. Help me save her because I don’t think Michael will leave any part of her intact.” James cut the line.
“Did you catch all of that?” Jared asked his brother.
To his ears, he sounded remarkably calm. Jared had gone to the cold and numb place inside himself where he could make harsh and hard decisions without flinching. Same place he went when Damon couldn’t bear to pull the plug on their mother.
“I did. When I get my hands on James and that sadistic fuck who calls himself Sarah’s husband—”
“We need to work fast and efficient, brother. See what James has to say and work from there,” Jared cut in. He loved his younger brother, but sometimes Damon let emotion rule his heart, so Jared needed to anchor both of them down. Think rationally so they could do what needed doing.
Damon let out a curse—a number of them anyway—before expelling a sharp breath. Seeing Jared in control usually helped steer him back to the objective. “Christ. How can you be so cold and logical? This isn’t one of our company business deals. It’s personal.”
“Don’t you think I’m feeling the same emotions as you, brother?” Jared slowly counted to ten in his head. Getting into a fight with Damon—with fists or words—wouldn’t solve anything now.
To his surprise, Damon looked away, defeated. His expression reminded Jared terribly of a time back when they were both boys. A time when Damon still looked up to Jared as his big brother and depended on him. Even then, their personalities clashed. Damon tackled things head-on while Jared picked his fights.
They didn’t exactly have bad childhoods. Raised in a single-parent household located in a rough neighborhood, they learned to be independent early. They had different ideas, made their own decisions, and carved their separate paths early on. Jared had talent with numbers and a head for business. Damon craved violence and chose illegal cage fights as an outlet for his anger, then later, drifted to the army.
Sharing a kink and meeting Lisa bridged whatever gap existed between them in the past. Young men tended to be angry for no reason, after all, especially brothers, but they were no longer inexperienced or impulsive. They built a successful business from the ground up and thought Lisa was the missing puzzle piece to complete their perfect life.
“I know you do. Just haven’t felt this mad or helpless since Lisa told us she had cancer.”
Jared approached his brother and squeezed one broad shoulder in reassurance. “Lisa’s road only led to one destination. We can still save Sarah. She isn’t lost to us yet.”
“What if we’re fucking too late? Fuck, Jared. We shouldn’t have let her leave the house.”
“We can’t change what’s already done. Damon, give your military contacts a call. See if we can get a lead on this bastard.”
James arrived minutes later and laid the story of the woman Damon and Jared both cared about out in the open. When James mentioned Michael Rivers ran in their circle, and he and Bobby had given Sarah their approval—Damon growled under his breath and out of impulsive anger and helplessness, lunged for James' throat.
“You dumb fuck,” Damon hissed.
While Damon’s fighting days were over, he kept his body in shape. James went down easy. Damon’s fist collided with James’s face. Bone cracked. Although it was tempting to let Damon teach James a lesson, Jared grabbed Da
mon by his arms and pulled him away before he could do some serious damage.
They tangled for a bit. Jared growled when Damon caught him in the side of the jaw. Jesus. He’d forgotten his brother had a nasty left hook. “Calm the fuck down. Remember the goal.”
Damon let go of him, breathing hard.
“Save it for when we find Michael,” Jared pointed out.
“You’re right.”
“What … exactly do you plan on doing to Michael Rivers?” James asked, wiping the blood on his lip with the back of his hand. “Damon, Jared, I know you’re both pissed. I want Bobby and Sarah back, too, but the law—”
“Fuck the law,” Damon growled.
James turned to Jared. If he expected Jared to share his understanding, James had another thing coming. Something in Jared’s gaze must have stopped him cold. From what James told them, Michael Rivers could easily slip past the local authorities with his connections and influence. A real life human monster, in every sense of the word, didn’t deserve justice.
“Once he’s done with Sarah, do you think he’ll stop?” Jared asked James carefully. “If your conscience is bothering you, put it aside for the moment. Let’s get them back to safety first.”
Damon picked up where Jared left off. “Then go. Leave us to the dirty business and don’t turn your head to look.”
James closed his eyes, and then opened them again. “If you don’t want to involve the police, what’s the next step?”
“I have a friend in the police department who’s helping me check on some leads. There’s also a couple, working in less legal fronts I won’t mention, helping me scope out things,” Damon said. He didn’t bother hiding the pleasure in his next words. “After that, we start the hunt.”
****
Sarah waited on the street corner anxiously, nervously checking around. This early in the morning, the neighborhood was hardly awake. A couple of early morning joggers and dog walkers passed her by. The smells of fresh bread and pastry wafted from the nearby bakery, but eating was the last thing on her mind.
A nondescript black Mercedes pulled up minutes later. For a second, Sarah couldn’t move. She dug into the pocket of her jeans and clutched at her cell phone. Tempting to dial Damon or Jared’s number, but she couldn’t let them fight her battles. Her heart skipped a beat when the car door opened, but it was only a chauffeur in a uniform. Sarah didn’t recognize the driver, but it didn’t escape her he could easily function as a bodyguard.
“Mrs. Rivers, your husband asked me to pick you up. My name’s Randy,” the driver introduced himself. He looked and sounded professional.
Of course, Michael wouldn’t get her himself. In a way, sending someone else to fetch her like a stray felt like a subtle message. A reminder Sarah came to him out of her own volition.
“May I take your bags? I’m afraid I’ll need to pat you down.”
“I don’t have any other belongings with me.”
As if she would be foolish enough to carry a weapon. Sarah didn’t have anything on her except her phone and the clothes on her back. Her electronic keyboard, she left in Damon and Jared’s apartment. Maybe they’d take good care of it, or maybe they’d throw it out. The last thought saddened her a little, but she shouldn’t let her mind linger on what she’d already said goodbye to.
She let Randy check her for weapons, biting her lip from remarking what kind of asshole treated his wife like a potential criminal. When Randy asked for her phone, she hesitated.
That was her last connection to the world, but didn’t she make this decision knowing her surrender meant Bobby’s freedom?
“Where’s Bobby? Michael promised—”
“Mr. Rivers said the exchange would conclude once you’re safely delivered to him,” Randy said without missing a beat.
Sarah shouldn’t be surprised. What had she hoped? That she could somehow appeal to Randy’s humanity and morals? Did he know what kind of client he worked for? Sarah had tried that route in the past before she realized Michael paid these men an exorbitant fee to keep their mouths shut.
She was reliving the same old nightmare, except Sarah wasn’t any wiser, just worn out and tired of the game. Without protest, she handed Randy her phone. Randy beamed at her, showing her a glimpse of his perfect white teeth. Sarah distrusted the smile immediately. What was underneath that veneer of politeness?
“Please,” Randy said, opening the passenger door.
Apprehension and dread coiled in her insides. Getting in the vehicle would be one step closer to her doom. This was what a death row prisoner must feel like.
Be brave. Don’t show weakness.
Funny how she used to say the same words repeatedly in her head during the early days of her marriage. In the end, they lost meaning with each passing day. Michael broke her will once. He’d do it again, except this time would be easier. She still bore the cracks and scars of his first round. Once he found her weak spot, he’d exploit it, and Sarah suspected she wouldn’t be able to give him much of a fight.
Randy locked the doors. The sound made her jump, and his amused chuckle rattled her nerves. She forced herself to keep her bored and indifferent mask in place. The engine roared, and the car was suddenly in motion. Questions buzzed in her mind.
Where was Randy taking her? A private and secluded estate outside the city maybe, where no one could find her body for years? Did some kind of horrible cell, her new cage, await her in some dank basement where no sun could reach?
What possessed her to willingly go back to the prison she escaped from when she could be having breakfast with Damon and Jared, talking about the future?
Sarah shivered. Wondering what could have been, or what awaited her, would be counter-productive. Bobby. She needed to think of freeing Bobby from whatever hell Michael subjected him to. After that, well, Sarah would have to see.
Chapter Ten
To Sarah’s surprise, Randy didn’t take the route exiting the city. Randy directed the car into a newer part of the city developers were flooding with high-rise condominiums and service apartments for the new rich. Unlike the subtle elegance of the luxurious residential neighborhood Damon and Jared’s apartment was located in, everything here on Antiguo Avenue felt gaudy and overdone.
“Michael is renting a place here?” Sarah couldn’t help but ask.
She glimpsed Randy’s razor-edge smile from the side-mirror as they entered the multi-level car park of the Sapphire II, supposedly the tallest skyscraper punching the city’s skyline. Sarah wasn’t surprised. Michael never did do things in half-measures. Still, it gnawed at her how close he’d been.
“Penthouse suite, for a couple of months anyway,” Randy replied, parking the car.
He held open the door for her, although Sarah knew he wasn’t a real gentleman. Not with the way he seemed to want to give her little touches. Once on the elevator, Randy pulled out a key card from his pocket and slotted it in the special access. Sarah’s back muscles tensed when he ran a hand down her spine. She pulled away, swallowing when he closed his hand over her wrist and suddenly slammed her body against the wall.
She lashed and kicked at him, but he easily subdued her, pinning her arms above her head and imprisoning her body with his. His touch felt repulsive. Sarah forced herself to remain calm. Fighting like a cornered animal wouldn’t help her in this situation. Her gaze slid to the numbers on the lift with trepidation.
“Make it hard all you want, miss, but it won’t help you any,” Randy said against her ear.
“What are you to Michael?” she asked in a calm and soft whisper. A bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
“Surely, that’s not hard to guess,” Randy bared his teeth, peeled off the polite bodyguard mask he wore in public, and let Sarah glimpsed the real man—or monster—underneath.
His gaze crawled over her skin. The dread building inside her closed over her like a painful vice. For a second, she couldn’t breathe or think past the fear, but Sarah remembered this wasn’t the fi
rst time she danced with a man who wished her violence. Randy might be the kind of man most women couldn’t say ‘no’ to, but Sarah had faced down worse.
“Michael doesn’t like to share,” she said, strength returning to her voice.
“Bitch,” Randy hissed, letting her go. “When he gets tired of you, and he will, he’ll give you to me. I sure as hell won’t be gentle. Think about that.”
Sarah lifted her chin, heart hammering painfully against her chest. The remaining brittle part of herself broke—or rather, bent. A smile twisted on her lips, which took Randy by surprise.
“You get off on playing with broken toys, big guy? Are normal women beyond your expertise?”
Randy’s gaze burned with fury. Too easy to bait, Sarah realized. Michael would never bite. He’d only coolly deal with her and think of creative ways to put her in her place. Thank God, the elevator doors hissed opened. Randy growled, and then straightened. An ugly smirk pierced his face.
“Let’s see how long that defiance lasts. Boss says I’m welcome to watch while he educates you, and I’m happy to take second-hand leavings.”
He nudged her out the lift where Michael was waiting. Michael Rivers stood facing the impressive floor-to-ceiling glass walls. He had a half-filled wine glass in hand, his back to her and Randy. The handsome and cultured man in the designer suit certainly didn’t look like a nightmare come alive. Nothing about the space, which looked like an exact cut-out of an interior design magazine, said sinister. Until Sarah heard it—a muffled but no less heart-wrenching scream from one of the rooms.
“Bobby,” she whispered.
Her voice made Michael turn, although she knew he’d heard them come in.
“Randy, thank you for bringing back my wayward wife,” Michael said. It sounded like an informal dismissal. Randy only took a couple of steps back, not leaving the room—a menacing shadow ready to take action in case Sarah did something foolish.
Bound to Two Page 8
