by Nicole Fox
I stomped down the hallway and out into the little courtyard. By the time I got outside, he was already half-way to the Warehouse. I wasn't going to hurt him. I was going to get him to apologize for calling her what he had. He was rip-roaring, shit-canned drunk, and I knew it. Everyone knew it.
“Hey,” I barked as I got closer. “Hey, Riley!”
He lurched back around till he could see me. He wobbled a little on his feet, stumbling in that way some drunks do to keep their footing. “What?” he slurred.
I kept on my warpath, didn't stop till I got right up in his face, my teeth bared like a rabid dog. “The fuck you say about Lydia?”
He didn't even try to push me away or reply, he just swung a fist. His muscle memory was good, too, from years and years of fighting. He knew how to throw a punch, and it came at me like a city bus. I was better, and more sober. My instincts kicked in, same as his, and I blocked his punch with my forearm, slamming it out of the way. Before I could take it back, I was slamming my elbow into his temple.
His eyes rolled back and he crumpled like a tin can, folding in on himself as he dropped to the ground. Just above his ear, his head cracked hard on a rock, and it sounded like a melon landing after having been tossed off a second story. Blood trickled from his ear immediately, and I knew he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. Maybe never. Head injuries like that were traumatic. My stomach turned immediately as I looked down at him. Not because I abhorred violence, but because I knew I'd just fucked up. They'd be looking for whoever did this, and who would be a more likely suspect than the new guy? No one. I glanced back over my shoulder, at the bunkhouse door.
No one was coming. They were probably just happy Riley had shut the fuck up.
“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath. I nudged Riley's motionless body with the toe of my boot, tried to roll him over.
He didn't respond and didn't flip. There was too much dead weight there for me to move with just my foot. I ran a hand down my face, growled low. I couldn't run and leave Lydia behind. Even if I had to give up on my goals, I wanted her with me. I needed her with me. And what kind of man would abandon her with motherfuckers like these around? Less than twenty-four hours here, and there were already drunks threatening to rape her.
And I couldn't go, especially not when I was so close to Joey Banks. I'd been working towards this for months, trying to hunt Lydia down, trying to get myself into the Warehouse. And besides, there were too many guards surrounding the place. I'd never get out at this time of night, definitely not unquestioned, and likely not full of bullet holes.
“Fuck!” I hissed again as I looked to the Warehouse, and my eyes settled on the door. I nodded at them, the wheels turning in my head.
The tunnels below the Warehouse. They'd seemed practically abandoned when I was down there just a little while before. I could hide out down there, till Lydia and I could figure out a way into the manager's office. Then, with her daddy dead, we could sneak out together and figure out our next move. I left Riley's unconscious body in the middle of the courtyard and headed for the Warehouse. As I went through the door, I heard a startled shout from direction of the bunkhouse.
“Holy shit!” called the voice.
I found the access stairs I'd used earlier to get down to Lydia's cage and slipped into the tunnels. I could hear murmuring voices, and I tip-toed down to the room where they were keeping her. It sounded like she and one of the men were discussing something in a hushed tone.
As they were speaking, though, I heard the crackle of a radio. “Tyson?” called a static-filled voice from inside the room. “You there, boss? You awake?”
A pause.
“I'm here,” Tyson replied. “What's wrong?”
“We got a problem. Riley's been beat up real bad. Think we got someone in the compound that ain't supposed to be here.”
Shit. I took off down the hallway as quietly as I could, not knowing where I was headed. A half-dozen men? I could handle that. A small private army? I might as well have just killed myself right then and saved them the trouble. I darted around the corner from Lydia's cage room and pressed my back against the wall as I tried to control my breathing, just listening.
“I'm on it,” I heard Tyson say as he came out of the cage room. Soon, his footfalls receded as he headed back to the access stairs, then headed upstairs. “Get security on high alert and lock down the fence. No one in, no one out till we figure this out. And make sure Mr. Banks has plenty of guards!”
I leaned my head back against the wall, still out of breath. Well, this was going well.
Chapter Nineteen
Lydia
I knew as soon as Uncle Tyson got the call that Kort had decided to make his move. He always had seemed kind of impulsive. It was one of the things I really loved about him. I frowned as I sat in my cage, staring at the six wired walls that had become my prison. Is that what these feelings were? Love?
I shook my head and leaned against the gate of the kennel, nearly yelping in surprise as began to swing open. “Holy shit!” I breathed, pushing the gate open all the way.
Tyson must have had so much on his mind with what he and I had discussed that he'd forgotten to lock the gate back up when he left. It seemed too good to be true, though. I hesitated. I didn't leave the cage. I stayed there, crouched down, wondering. Maybe it was a trick on my uncle's part. I couldn't rule that out, either. Maybe he'd just been humoring me when we speaking earlier, and this really was part of some sick and twisted plot by him and my father, to see how loyal I was? He might have been just waiting right outside the room, ready to spring on me when I went to leave.
I chewed at my lip, mulling my options. Even if it was a trick, I figured, maybe I could use it to my advantage. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I nodded to myself, and pushed the gate open the rest of the way, crept out into the dimly lit cage room. I rose to my feet, stretched again with my hands on my lower back. Even a short amount of time in the cage was hell on the body.
Holding my breath, I crossed over to the hallway door and pressed my ear to it, listening. Nothing on the other side. I closed my eyes, sighed, and grasped the door knob, pulled it open. I poked my head out, looked both ways, but I couldn’t see anything. I snuck out into the hall and took a left, heading down towards the showers. The lights here were distantly spaced, but at least they were on. Little pools of yellow dotted the floor every forty or so feet, lighting my way.
While Tyson and I had been talking about everything, I'd asked him about the layout of the Warehouse, how deep these tunnels went. He'd told me they were huge, almost as big as the whole complex. My father had his home down here, connected by an elevator in the manager's office I'd seen earlier. An elevator connected the two, but the old man’s room was accessible from these tunnels.
That was my chance, I realized. If he was down in these tunnels, I could find him and have my shot at him for what he did to my mother. If he was up in the manager's office, then I could find the elevator that led up to it. I turned the corner and headed down towards the showers, my footfalls echoing up and down the concrete walls, their only accompaniment my breath and the steady drips of falling water. I stopped at each intersection and listened, trying to get some sense of what was ahead of me. At each juncture I didn't hear anything other than my own low breath and the sound of shifting earth and rushing water.
My thoughts turned to Kort as I wandered the subterranean halls of the Warehouse. Was he safe? Had they caught him? Would I ever see him again? If they caught him, and he was the culprit, they'd kill him for sure. Hell, even if he wasn't the culprit, he'd probably be killed anyways, just on suspicion.
I came to a T intersection and stopped. “Left or right?” I wondered aloud as I looked both ways. My eyes settled right, and I followed them.
About halfway down the passage I stopped and cocked my head to the side. I thought I heard something up ahead, on my right. I pressed myself against the wall and crept slowly forward. As I drew closer, I realized it was
an open door, the sound of soft breathing coming clearly over the background noise of the underground. I didn't have any weapon, and even though I’d been in scraps before I didn’t trust my luck against some of the solidly built goons I’d seen running guard duty. My heart raced, my mouth went dry, and I swallowed nervously as I continued to creep forward to the edge of the open door.
Then it happened. A man in the room sprung out at me, his arms faster than I could see, yanking me into the room and clamping a hand over my mouth. I struggled and kicked at him, screaming against his palm, but it was no use. He was bigger and stronger than me, easily outweighing me by a hundred pounds, and he dragged me deep into the room. He kept saying something over and over, but my blood was up, and I was panicking and couldn't tell at first what he was saying.
“Lydia!” he hissed. “Calm the fuck down!”
I recognized those strong arms that were around me, remembered even his smell as he took his hand from my mouth. “Kort?” I asked, my eyes blinking in the darkness. “Oh Kort!” I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close, my lips planting on his in a long kiss.
He wrapped his arms around me again, this time more gently, as he returned my kiss, his lips as passionate and insistent as my own. Even through the wire of the cage, I hadn't realized how much I wanted him by my side for this, or how wonderful his embrace felt.
We pulled apart from each other, and he stroked my cheek, cupped my face. “How you doing? You holding in there?”
I turned my face into his hand, loving the way it felt on my skin, kissed his palm. I sighed as I closed my eyes, just enjoying this moment of peace before I went and did what I had to do. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I'm holding in there.”
“You look good,” he said. “Better than I would have thought.”
I told him about my Uncle Tyson coming down and letting me walk around a little and shower. “I think,” I said, pausing to lick my lips, “I think we can get him on our side. At least to kill Joey. He knows that he's gone off the deep end.”
He nodded. “I heard about what happened with your mother, about why you ran. I had no idea. I would've told you about what I was planning sooner.”
I sighed. “Well, it's partially my fault. I don't exactly advertise what happened.”
I told him about the elevator, about how pops lived down here. “Tyson says it’s all a part of these tunnels. We can get to him from here. I can get to him and finish this.”
He took a step back and shook his head. “That's a fucking suicide mission, Lydia. And you know it.”
“I don't care! The man took my mother from me, and my life! He stuck me in a fucking cage, Kort!”
“But,” he countered as he stepped towards me, pulled me into his arms, “if something happens to you, I don't know what I'd do.”
I looked away, a faint smile on my lips. I shook my head, wondering how I'd ended up here in life. In the dungeons beneath a madman's modern day castle, some kind of 21st century princess returning to avenge the queen's death at the hands of the insane king, in love with the knight in shining armor.
“Don't get me wrong,” he said, squeezing me a little to make his point, “I want your daddy just as dead as you do. He took my best friend from me, same as he took your mother. But, I still want you, too.”
The smile on my lips grew as my heart swelled a little. “You do? Even after all the shit I put you through?”
He chuckled, his hands sliding down to my denim-clad butt. “Probably because of it. You're just . . . you're not like any woman I've ever met, Lydia. You're tough, and sexy, and smart. You can run a pool table or throws bullseyes every time, even pick locks.”
“Well,” I admitted, “you're not too bad yourself. You're handsome, can fight and act, and you're funny, too.”
“Don't forget great in bed,” he suggested, moving his hips against mine.
I purred a little as my eyes tracked down to his mouth and I licked my lips. “You wish. Don’t get cocky.”
He pulled me closer, his lips lowering to mine. “I guess I'm just trying to say . . .”
“You don't have to,” I replied when he didn't finish. “I understand. I . . . I need you, too,” I said as I stood on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. I opened my mouth to his tongue, welcoming it with my own. He tasted like beer and cigarettes, but I didn't care.
Our hands moved over each other's bodies, pulling at our clothes. I knew we were in the middle of enemy territory, and this was the worst possible time do be doing this, but I knew too that I may never feel his hands on me again, his hot breath might not ever grace my neck after we made our move on my pops.
We threw ourselves at each other in the depths of that place. We'd been playing with fire this whole time, why let a little more danger stop us now? Besides, we'd be dead no matter who found us down here. Might as well go out of the world the same way we’d lived in it. His scruffy five o'clock shadowed lips were pressed to my naked breasts, his teeth flashing as they nipped at my tender, excited nubs. I raked my nails across his naked back as he wrapped me in his strong arms, his hands on my butt and hips, squeezing, gripping at me for dear life. We clung to each other, trying desperately to be nearer to one another than we'd ever been to any human being alive.
My body was on fire with my need for him, the man I loved. I had to feel him inside me before we faced our next, and final test. And I could tell from the way his exceptional manhood pressed into my belly he felt the exact same way.
“Lydia,” he growled me in my ear just before nipping at my ear lobe.
I arched my body into, pressed my breasts flat against his chest as I writhed under his touch. “Fuck me, Kort,” I whispered, my voice raspy with lust as I slipped my hand down between us and grabbed his cock. “I need you right now. I need you more than anything I've ever needed.”
He groaned in my ear as I swirled my thumb around his head, as I smeared his excitement all over and began to stroke him. He grabbed my ass in both hands, lifting me into the air and pushing me back against the cool concrete wall, pinning me with his body. I shivered as the damp, rough stone touched my skin. My hand still on his cock, I guided him to my dripping entrance and wrapped my legs around his waist. He moved his hips forward, thrusting his hard length deep into me, as his lips found mine.
My whole body shook as I took him in one go, sliding down his member as I screamed into his mouth. He fucked me hard against the wall, his hips and pelvis slamming into mine as I groaned into him, took his tongue into my mouth, sucked him hard.
He'd manhandled me in the past, had kept me tied to the motel bed as he used my body, had pressed me hard into the mattress as he took the last thing I had to give any man. But this was so different, so raw and primal as our hands tore at one another, as he held me like a doll against the concrete wall, his body roughly grinding against mine. My clit rubbed against the base of his hard cock as he drilled into me, making the world seem like one ball of never ending infinite pleasure that would soon expand to fill the whole universe.
I cried out wordlessly as my orgasm overtook me, my body massaging his prick as he continued to bounce me on it. I rotated my hips, screaming into his mouth as I felt myself become small, like an insignificant mortal in the grasp of his giant hands and towering frame. He bit my neck and shoulder, and I screamed out again, my call echoing through the room as he continued to pound into me.
“I'm close,” he groaned, louder than he meant to, his hips moving faster and faster as he dragged me up and down his cock.
The concrete scraped my back painfully, but it just seemed to add to the fun as another orgasm ripped through me, making the world brighter than I ever imagined possible as fireworks exploded behind my eyes.
“Oh, Kort!” I called, forgetting myself in the passion. “God, you feel amazing!”
“Lydia!” he joined me as his whole body tensed and I felt him go off inside me, his cock buried as deep as it could as he began to unload his seed. “I love you, too,” he growled a
s he thrust faster.
I shook one last time on his length as he continued to cum inside me, my body shaking like I was on a rollercoaster as I trembled in his strong arms. I cried out again, but bit it off by planting my teeth in his shoulder. I moaned a few more times as his cock began to soften inside me before taking my mouth from him. Our breath heavy and exasperated, he pressed his lips to mine, panting between kisses.
“I do,” Kort whispered as he dropped me slowly to the floor. “You know that, right?”
“Love me?” I asked as I put a hand on his chest and brought myself close to him. I looked up into his dark, brooding eyes, touched his face, brushed my fingers over the scratchy scruff on his chin and square jaw. “Of course I know, handsome.”
We kissed again, sighing into our lovers' embrace as our bodies melted into each other's arms again.
We both froze suddenly as the door to the room opened.
“I knew it! I just fucking knew you were fucking him,” growled a man's voice as he stepped into the room, pistol in hand. “You fucking whore!”
