by Anna Edwards
“My associate likes to keep hair. He’s got a pretty good collection now. I don’t ask what he does with it. It’s not my kink.”
“No. Yours is just pain and humiliation.”
“Finally, she realizes. Does this hurt?”
Lord West wraps his mouth around my nipple and bites down into the scorched flesh with his teeth. I can’t stand the pain. My head swims – I know I’m being dragged into unconsciousness again, and I welcome the respite from the pain. It doesn’t come, though, as another bucket of icy water is thrown over me, reviving me and returning me to a world of torment. Lord West takes his three fingers again and pushes them inside me. He scissors them, and I feel my flesh tearing. He nods his head toward the other man in the room while the one from before is now standing in the corner, sniffing my freshly severed hair.
“I don’t think my fingers are big enough. Let’s have something else to use.”
The man turns to a wooden chest in the room and pulls out one of the drawers. Retrieving a massive phallic staff, he holds it up while I’m mentally trying to squeeze my legs together as tightly as possible. William has the biggest fucking dick I’ve ever seen, I’m talking hung like an elephant, but that thing is like twice the size.
“This one?”
“No. The pear.” Lord West’s lip curls up in a smile, which has me seriously questioning his sanity for about the hundredth time.
The man by the chest roots around in the drawers and eventually brings out a metallic object. It’s shaped like a pear with a device at the bottom.
“Do you know what this is?”
Lord West waves it in front of my face. I turn away, refusing to give him an answer but also knowing where the device is going, and I don’t want to think about what it does.
“In Tudor times, it was a way of getting answers from criminals. It went up the ass, and then they’d gradually turn the screw.” The guard who’d been standing by the chest of drawers comes over and placing his hands on either side of my neck, he jerks my head around, so I have no choice other than to face Lord West. I shut my eyes, but he forces them open with his dirty fingers. Lord West is turning the handle on the device, and I can see it opening wider and wider. The part of me concerned with self-preservation wants to start pleading with him, now, and beg him to fuck me and get it over with. However, the angry part is still in control, and it spits at him, again. A hand whacks me across my face, closely followed by a twist of my damaged nipple by the guard who cut my hair. I scream so loudly I’m sure the very foundations of the building are rattling.
Lord West winds the pear device in so it’s small again and without ceremony or preparation inserts it deeply into me. It’s agony, especially when he instantly turns the screw, and it begins to widen. I bare down to try and expel it from my body, but it’s no use. All three men step back, and I watch as they take their dicks out and start stroking their already hardened shafts.
“It’s time to take the edge off. Decorate this beautiful body with our cum, and then the real fun can start.”
The two guards furiously pump their dicks while Lord West takes it slower. He switches the electrical current machine back on, and with one hand stroking himself, he uses his other hand to dot the prong all over my body. One guard cums over my face, and the other on my sore breast. Lord West is the last to find his release, which he does over my previously broken ribs. He groans out a long breath as spurt after spurt of his disgusting essence covers my skin. His lip twists again, and he brings the prong down to rub it through the sticky fluid directly over where my ribs are broken and twisted inside me. I try to stay conscious to defy the weakness in me he wants to expose, but it’s too much, and the darkness claims me once again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
William
“When was the last time you drove?” I ask my brother who, despite being in a Lamborghini, is driving like an old grandad.
“William, I’m doing over a hundred miles an hour. If I go any faster, we’ll attract the police, get pulled over, and we won’t be able to get to her in time. Calm down.”
“It feels slower,” I protest and check the gun attached to my body for the millionth time since we got in the car.
The phone rings. I look down at the caller ID on the screen and it reads, ‘Matthew Carter’. I know he’s my brother’s contact in all matters requiring a bit of additional help. He’s ex-MI5 and still has connections there. He’s also the current bodyguard for one of the richest men in the UK, a property tycoon named James North.
“Matthew?” Nicholas answers.
“Yes. We’ve identified the last known location of Miss Bennett’s phone prior to it being, unceremoniously, returned to your house...my men are on the way there now.”
“Our ETA is five minutes.” Nicholas tells him.
“You’ll probably be there before my men. You going in alone?”
“Yes,” I reply before giving my brother a chance to say no. I’m not going to leave Tamara alone with Lord West for a minute longer than I have to. I know exactly what the bastard is capable of, and I refuse to let Tamara be subjected to that while I wait around outside for reinforcements.
The line remains silent while my brother neither confirms nor denies what we are going to do when we get to our location.
“I understand. I’d do the same for my woman,” Matthew finally responds. “Do whatever you need to, to get her out safely. My men can handle the aftermath.”
“Thank you,” Nicholas replies. “So, what do I owe James this time?”
Matthew laughs down his end of the phone.
“I think he’d like to surprise his wife with a title of some sort for Christmas. Perhaps you could have a word in Prince John’s ear. I know you and he have been close in the past.”
“If you’re suggesting I’ve fucked alongside him, then yes I have, but not since Victoria came into my life.”
“He’s too busy being ridden cowboy style by his pregnancy hormone flooded wife,” I mutter without thinking. Damn. That’s one of those filter things I’m supposed to remember. There is too much etiquette when it comes to society. Why can’t we just say what we want and not have to mind our tongues.
“Good to hear it.” Matthew chuckles at my faux pas.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Nicholas answers.
“Be careful. Call me when it’s over.”
“Will do.” My brother ends the call, and we pull over in a densely forested area. Up ahead, I can see an opening, which appears to lead to a long driveway. There are one or two other houses scattered around but nothing that would cause major issues if we make a bit of a disturbance.
We’re dressed all in black – our standard uniform for returning artwork seems to have transformed into the perfect outfit for rescuing damsels in distress and slaying the bad guys without a spot of blood showing.
It’s dark out, the winter sun having set hours ago. Nicholas pulls down his night vision goggles, and I do the same.
“We go in the back way. You got your silencer?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“Stay together. Follow my orders. We’ll get her out.”
“I know. You’ve got my word…no heroics. You’ve got a wife and baby to go back to, and I’ve got a woman to repair.” I reply, reassuring my brother that I’m not going to go all commando on him and lose my head in there.
“She’s stronger than you think. She’ll give Lord West a run for his money.”
“I hope so.”
We go silent and switch on the intercoms in our ears. Like lions creeping slowly up on their prey, we make strides through the trees toward our target – a dimly lit house in front of us. It’s old and a little run down. The perfect ghost house for Lord West’s activities. I shudder as I think about the number of girls whose last view of the outside world was this building.
“Guard at eleven o’clock.” Nicholas’ voice comes through the intercom in my ear.
“Got him.”
“Take hi
m,” my brother orders.
The guard is around the side of the building, having a crafty cigarette. He can’t be seen by the other guards on lookout. I pull my knife from its holder on my trousers, and before he has a chance to notice, I’m next to him and have sliced through his throat.
“Shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for your health in more ways than one,” I tell him as he falls to the ground dead.
Dragging him, I deposit the body out of sight. Nicholas and I then press our bodies closely to the wall and shuffle around the building toward an entrance we’d examined earlier on Google maps. What a wonderful invention, but there’s no privacy in the world any longer.
My feet shuffle, and I hit something heavy. I stop abruptly, and Nicholas knocks into the back of me. Looking down, I realize it’s another body.
“What is it?” Nicholas asks.
“A body?” Not quite understanding. There’s little light in the area, but through my goggles, I can make out a gunshot wound in his head.
“What?”
“Looks like a guard.” I examine his clothing and see a knife attached to his trousers.
“Did you kill him?” Nicholas asks.
“No. You saw me deposit the guy I killed in the bushes over there.”
“Someone must have pissed West off. Pretty messy clean up if you ask me.”
“Maybe he’s busy and will sort it out later?” The second the words leave my mouth, they turn my stomach because I don’t want to think what he’s doing to Tamara in the house. “Let’s worry about it later. I want to get inside.”
“Keep leading,” Nicholas orders, and we peer around the side of the building.
“I’ve got two talking,” I tell Nicholas.
He peaks over my shoulder.
“Confirmed.”
“Shoot, or try to take them out in person?”
“Person. It’s quieter and less chance of missing.”
“Agreed.”
On my count,” Nicholas starts. “Three…two…”
“Fuck.” I exclaim as a bright light illuminates the garden area, and our hiding place is discovered. We both rip off the night vision glasses and bring our guns up ready to shoot. It’s no use, though, as I can’t see a thing.
“Your Grace, Earl Lullington.” A man steps forward, and I get ready to fire, but we’re both quickly captured, and our weapons along with our earpieces are removed.
“If you’d follow me.” The man indicates the path we are to take. I have a guard behind me and two on either side – Nicholas has the same. I’m not restrained, and I look to my brother for orders. His face is a mix of deep thought and concern. With a nod of his head, he signals we are to see where we are led, for now. I don’t doubt it will be to see West, and where West is Tamara will be, so I’ll happily oblige, for now.
I’m mentally bracing myself for the state I’ll find Tamara in. I wear my emotions with no filter, but I can’t show them to her. She’ll need the strength the monster inside me imparts when I first see her. I can’t show weakness. We enter through a small door into what I suspect is the lounge. The building is incredibly run down – the ornate paintings and wall hangings are littered with spider webs, and there is enough dust covering the gothic sculptures on antique wooden furniture to write my name in. This place hasn’t been inhabited in years. It’s unloved – a place where the terrors are real. I control my emotions with a deep breath while we wait for the door to open. What I don’t expect on the other side is Lord West on his hands and knees with two guards on either side of him. He has a gun pointed at his head, and two men lie already executed on the floor in the corner of the room with blood pooling around them. Tamara sits on a sofa wrapped in a blanket. There are newly forming bruises on her face, which is wet with a mixture of fresh tears and blood. Her beautiful, long hair has been cut short.
“William.” She tries to get to her feet when she sees me, but her legs are wobbly, and she sinks back down. I look to the man who led us here. He motions for me to go to her. I do so and wrap my arms around her.
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
“There will be time for questions later, Earl Lullington. Our business here is concluded, now,” the man speaks and steps forward with a note for my brother. He also hands my brother back his gun. “I suspect you have reinforcements on the way. I’ll allow them to do the clean-up operation.” The man whistles, and everyone leaves the room. Lord West suddenly realizes he’s free and scrambles to get to his feet. Nicholas is quicker, though, and points the gun at him.
“Back down.”
Lord West’s eyes are filled with menace, and my brother’s are laced with confusion but also determination. Lord West understands this and gets back down onto his knees in the center of the room.
“I think I want to see what’s going on here.”
My brother keeps his eyes and gun trained on West but comes over to me. He drops the note into my hands.
“If you would, Brother.”
I open it and read it aloud.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t wait for you to play heroes this time. There will be other opportunities, though. This isn’t over yet. Take care of my daughters, both of them. They are not Lord West’s to destroy. Viscount Hamilton.”
“Viscount Hamilton,” Nicholas repeats. “They were his men?”
Lord West snorts.
“Seems the old man got one up on you.”
Nicholas strides forward and uses the barrel of the gun to smack him over the head. I turn my attention back to Tamara.
“What did he do to you? Apart from this.” I stroke her tufted hair.
She lowers the sheet a little to bare her breast. It’s inflamed and blackened. The skin burned on the tip.
“Lower?”
“Yes,” she whimpers. I shut my eyes, trying to keep hold of my control. “Let the monster out,” she pleads with me. My eyes flash open, and she turns her head toward the corner of the room. In the shadows under a table, I can just about make out a figure.
“He had her here. One of the missing girls.”
“Joanna?” Nicholas asks.
“No,” Tamara replies. “The one you believed your father killed, Daphne Knight.”
“Shit!” Nicholas exclaims. “You’re a sick fuck.” He whacks West again, and the man slumps to the floor. Nicholas stomps over toward the girl and whimpered pleas can be heard coming from the shadows. They turn into song, and it sends shivers down my spine. Nicholas grabs a lamp from a nearby table and points it down, so he can see the girl. What we find there is not the Daphne Knight I saw sold that day at the auction. She’s lost an eye, and the socket is infected and inflamed. Her hair is shaved short. She has scars, cuts, and bruises all over her body, and several of her fingers are missing. Her leg is at an odd angle, obviously, having been broken at some point and not allowed to heal properly.
“No, no, no, no,” she sings. It’s obvious that the young girl she once was has completely gone. I know in my heart there’s no hope for her.
“Daphne.” Nicholas motions for her to come to him. She shakes her head.
“I won’t hurt you.”
“It hurts already.”
“I know it does.” He keeps his voice even and low. I pull Tamara close to my chest. She doesn’t need to see this.
“He said it would stop one day, and the angels would come and take me to heaven. Just like the baby he beat from me. Just like the parts of my body he took already. He won’t kill me, though. He said that would be too easy. I’m one of the special girls. I can withstand anything for the society, but I don’t want to anymore. I want to sleep, but I’ve forgotten how.”
I can see how visibly shaken my brother is. He’s always blamed himself for these girls. They were given to him, and Daphne was one of the one’s he didn’t choose.
“Come to me, Daphne. The angels are here. I can see them. Tamara starts to squirm in my arms. She realizes what Nicholas is about to do.
“He can’t,” she whimpers
into my chest.
“It’s the only way. That’s not a human anymore. It’s no life. Trust me, I know.”
I don’t look as the gun goes off behind us, but I know Daphne has finally found her peace. Tamara lets out a cry of loss.
“Do you want this, Brother?” Nicholas asks, indicating toward Lord West who remains semi-conscious on the floor.
“No. Just end him. I want to take Tamara home.”
Nicholas strides purposefully over to West and kicks him until he starts to stir. He doesn’t give him any last words, or prayers for redemption in heaven or hell. No, he fires the gun twice. The first shot destroys that piece of his anatomy he was so proud of. The second is straight between his eyes and ends his pitiful existence.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tamara
Three months later
“Why do those people have to queue when we get to walk straight through and onto the plane?” William asks me as he flashes his ticket toward the flight attendant.
“We’re in first-class,” I tell him and show the lady my ticket.
“Thank you, ma’am.” The attendant gives me a little smirk, and we walk down the corridor toward the plane.
“It’s not because you told them I have autism?”
“No. We’ve paid to board first.”
“But if I didn’t want to pay, could we tell them?”
“Yes, we could,” I reply and wrap my hand around his.
“Then it does work the same way as it did at that theme park we went to, and you told them about me, so I didn’t have to queue.”
“It does, but you’ve got money, and I don’t plan on flying economy when you can afford a first-class flight.”
“Ok.”
William strides confidently toward the next waiting attendant at the entrance to the plane.
“Welcome, sir.” The lady bows her head to him. I show her our tickets. “You’re seats one and two to the left. I believe you are the only people in first-class for the flight. You’ll have a dedicated attendant. If you need anything, please just ask.”
