His Brother's Wife

by Michelle Love

  The food was good and Ama suddenly realized she was starving. Jackson poured them some red wine and Ama sipped it. She wondered if she should, given the tablets the doctor had sent for her, but she would do anything to get through this.

  She started to feel strange as they finished their entrees. Her head was swirling. Too much wine? As she picked at the fruit salad Jackson had given her for dessert, she started to feel out of it completely. Maybe I’m just exhausted, she thought, but her skin felt like it was on fire.

  Jackson was watching her carefully. “Something wrong, darling?” His grin was wide.

  Ama started to stand, knocking her wine glass to the floor. “Jackson …did you put something in my drink?”

  He laughed. “Just a little something to relax you, Ama. Don’t worry, it won’t harm you. Just make things go a little smoother between us.”

  Her vision was blurry. “Jackson …I don’t feel so good …”

  She stumbled toward the bathroom, but Jackson caught her in his arms. “It’s okay, darling. Just relax into it.”

  She felt herself being carried to the bed, then her skin felt cool as Jackson peeled the dress from her. “Just pretend I’m my bastard brother, Ama …” His voice sounded far away and her limbs felt like liquid.

  When Jackson’s cock thrust into her, she was barely conscious, but still, the rocking motion and the smell of him made her want to throw up. Play your role. Don’t forget he holds all the cards here. Say his name.

  “Jackson,” she whispered and heard his satisfied chuckle.

  “Good, good …now, Ama, this is only the beginning of the evening. I have a surprise for you.”

  Ama was so out of it, by the time Jackson had cum, she barely felt him pull her up into his arms and carry her from the room, draped only in the bed sheet. He strode down the hallway with her, and before Ama could try and see where he was taking her, he was walking into a darkened room. “We’re going to have some different kind of fun tonight, my darling.”

  He set her down onto what felt like a wooden bench, then adjusted the lighting. Ama, blinking to try and wake herself up, felt a jolt of shock go through her. From the ceilings, hung chains with cuffs on the end. A large, wooden bed with stocks and St. Andrew’s Cross stood at the other end of the room. On one wall, whips, paddles, restraints, and harnesses hung from hooks. On another, a huge flat screen T.V. On a credenza under the T.V., knives lay out.

  Oh god, someone help me.

  It was a bondage room, but it had Jackson’s twist on it. It wasn’t a place of experimentation, of BDSM, or of loving adventure, but a torture chamber. He wanted her humiliated, scared, and in fear of her life. That’s what turned Jackson on.

  She looked back at him, and his face was alive with desire and triumph.

  “Before you left me for the bastard,” he said. “I was planning to have this built in our home—after Dad had passed, obviously. Eventually, after the two years were up and you were going to leave me, I would have brought you here for one last time. One last time before I killed you. I was never going to accept you leaving me, Ama. You know that now, right?”

  Barely conscious and terrified, she nodded. Jackson took her in his arms. “Now, there are two ways this evening could go. One…you try to enjoy it and make me happy, and you live. Your sister lives. The other …” He nodded to the case of knives. “I use all of them on you. They won’t even bother to count the stab wounds, Ama, I swear to you. I’ll take my time, and you will know what hell feels like.”

  “Why?” Ama said now, her voice barely more than a whisper, “Why me? Why all of this just for me? Why did you try and kill Inca too?”

  Jackson grinned. “Speaking of which …”

  He grabbed the remote control and on the flat screen, the video of Inca being stabbed played. Ama gave a cry of distress.

  “I’ve watched this over and over again, just enjoying the terror and pain on her beautiful face. The way the knife slides into her belly like butter. The way the blood blooms across her dress.”

  Jackson looked back at Ama, who was trembling uncontrollably. His eyes were cold and dead, and now Ama saw the madness within. “I wish I had ordered the men I sent to kill Penny to film it too. I didn’t even think about it until I ordered the hit on Inca.”

  He was insane. A monster. A …Ama didn’t have the words for it. But inside her mind, one thought began to fester. He is insane …use that. Use it to get Selima released. Use it to save your own life if you can…

  Ama knew what she had to do now. She had to push all her feelings aside and allow Jackson to do what he wanted …even it meant the worst kind of violation. If it meant getting him to trust her, she would take that risk.

  God, Enda, I’m sorry …I’m trying to fight my way back to you.

  Please forgive me.

  Enda had not found anything in the rubble of his father’s home. He’d contacted the forensics team, who had let him examine what little was left of his father and brother’s possessions. There were some old photographs, badly burned and warped, a few old letters that Macaulay had written to Olivier and Jackson’s mother, receipts, and bills. But there was nothing else. No clues.

  Frustrated, he drove into his office. The police knew to find him there, and at least he could coordinate the search from there.

  Raffaelo called him just after midday. “Guess what?”

  “Tell me.”

  “We’re coming to the States.”

  Enda was astonished. “Inca’s well enough?”

  Raff hesitated, then sighed. “Not really, but she is insistent. There’s a surgeon over there who might be able to fix some of the scarring. Between us, I think Inca’s using that as an excuse. She knows I couldn’t say no to her. She is much stronger now and she’s not hooked up to any machinery. I negotiated a nurse to come with us, but yes, we’re coming to America.”

  Enda sat down with a bump. “Selfishly, Raff, I can’t wait to see you all, but do you really think this is a good idea?”

  “Inca and I …we want to be there for you, Enda. You are my brother, and we can’t see you hurting like this.”

  Enda was so touched he couldn’t speak. Raff laughed softly. “We’ll be there tomorrow, Enda. Stay strong.”

  The next day, Enda drove out to the airport to meet their private jet. Inca smiled at him, but he was shocked at how thin and pale she was. Raff hugged him tightly. “We’re all together now …we will find Ama, I swear it.”

  Enda insisted that Raff, Inca, and Inca’s nurse, a sweet woman in her fifties called Giovanna, or ‘Vanni,’ as Inca already called her, stay with him. “Don’t be fooled by that gorgeous face,” Inca had warned Enda, as Giovanni giggled, “She rules me with a rod of iron.”

  Enda marveled again at Inca’s ability to draw people to her, even when she was obviously still in a lot of pain. Raff looked older, saddened, and wrecked by what had happened, but Enda watched him rallying, trying to hide his misery.

  When Enda got Raff on his own later, Raff admitted he was shattered. “I just feel so damn helpless. Is the answer really locking Inca up in an ivory tower to keep her safe?”

  “God, I’m so sorry, Raff. If it’s any consolation, I feel exactly the same, man.”

  Raff nodded. “Of course. Sorry. Look, take me through what you’ve found out already.”

  They poured over the maps of California. “We think he planned this down to the most minute detail; wherever his compound is, it is deeply hidden. The places the police and my team have searched all had roads leading to them. Wherever Jackson is, it’s out in the wilds somewhere.”

  Enda gave a short laugh, running his hands through his dark hair. “I’ve spent days just on Google Earth, just trying to figure out something. We’re going to have to extend the search, I think.”

  Raff nodded. “We need new teams, then. People who aren’t jaded from searching.”

  “I agree. And we need to do this in a grid pattern, I think. However much it costs.”

 
“Money isn’t an object. You know that. Let’s just get them home.”

  Ama woke up, her limbs stiff. She felt a hand on her arm and skittered away from it in alarm.

  “It’s me, Ama.” Selima. Ama let out a long breath. She was in Selima’s room, on top of her bed. Selima poured a cup of water for her.

  “They brought you here last night, late. Jackson said we could stay together now. He looked …weird.”

  Ama sipped the cold water and closed her eyes. Last night had been the worst, most degrading, most humiliating night of her life, but she couldn’t break down. Not with Selima still here. Selima put her arms around her sister.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I can’t,” Ama whispered. “I never want you to know what happened.”

  Her words were enough to make Selima start to weep gently. “Oh, no, no, Ama, no …”

  Ama hugged her back tightly before releasing her. “I need to bathe.”

  Selima helped her undress and tried not to let the horror fill her eyes as she looked at the cuts, welts, and bruises on her sister’s body. Ama felt broken, and as she stepped into the tub, she winced as the hot water stung her wounds.

  She felt disconnected from herself, completely soulless and empty. Jackson had done things to her which she would not allow herself to think of and would certainly never tell Selima ...or Enda. Jackson was a monster, an aberration of a human, and Ama knew now there was only one way she could save her sister, and that was to sacrifice herself.

  After she had bathed, she knocked on the door. The guard opened it. “Tell Jackson I want to see him. Now. I have a proposal for him.” The guard nodded and was about to shut the door when Ama stopped. “And tell him to bring his favorite knife.”

  Selima’s eyes opened wide, but Ama shook her head at her. “I know what to do now, Selima. I’m getting you out of here. So, for the next few minutes, when Jackson gets here, I want you to go into that bathroom and give me some space. Don’t listen to what I’m saying. Can you do that?”

  Selima nodded, her eyes terrified. When Jackson arrived, Selima went into the bathroom. Ama faced her husband.

  Jackson studied her and smiled. “You look beautiful.”

  Ama stared back at him, then dropped her robe. “Am I? Do you like me bruised, cut, and wounded, Jackson?”

  He grinned widely. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “I do.” She walked towards him, naked. “You get off on hurting women; it’s what fuels you, yes?”

  She grabbed his hand, the one with the knife, and stepped closer so that the tip of the blade pressed against her belly. “Do it, Jackson. You know you want to. Run me through.”

  Jackson’s eyes grew wary and he jerked the knife away from her. “Why would I want to do that …especially after we discovered new realms of pleasure together last night.”

  God …there wasn’t a word for how vile he was. “Do you want to do it again?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then here’s my proposal. Let my sister go, unharmed. You or one of your goons delivers her to a hospital, in whatever state you like. When I see she’s safe on the television, I’ll go with you anywhere. I’ll do anything with you. They need never find us.”

  Jackson narrowed his eyes. “And what if I don’t?”

  “Then pick up that knife and kill me now. Because if you think I’m going to let you touch me ever again after last night, after what you did to me, without me getting something in return …”

  His hand shot up and grabbed her throat. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll keep your end of the bargain if I let Selima go?”

  Ama stared back, her gaze cool. “You don’t. But then you get to kill me and jerk off over my dead body. It’s a win-win for you.”

  Jackson was quiet for a long moment. “You know how this will end eventually, don’t you, Amalia? Your blood on my hands.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  He released her, and she stepped back, pulling her robe on. Would he go for it? Ama realized she was holding her breath.

  Jackson nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you.”

  When Jackson had gone, Selima came out of the bathroom, tears streaming down her face. She had obviously been listening.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Ama nodded. “Yes, you are. Selima, look …this is the only way. You’re my best chance. If you can lead the police here, or at least tell them anything, I might have a chance. Otherwise, last night proved to me one thing: Jackson doesn’t intend to let me go alive. Ever. But you do get the chance to live.”

  Her voice broke, and Selima came to her. “I won’t leave you,” she repeated through her sobs.

  Ama hugged her tightly. “You have to …you have to tell Enda that I love him. That I’ll love him forever. Please, Selima …please do this for me.”

  A couple of hours later, Jackson returned with two guards and the doctor in tow. The doctor gave Ama a strange look, but Jackson didn’t notice. “You have a deal, Ama. You,” he looked at Selima. “The doctor is here to give you something for the journey. Don’t worry. It’s just a sedative. Can’t have you picking out details to help identify this place. My men will take you to a hospital, where you will ask to talk to the press so that Ama can see you’re safe. Say your goodbyes, ladies.”

  Ama hugged her sobbing sister. “Live well, Selima, for me. Tell Enda I love him and that I don’t regret a moment with him.”

  After a few minutes, Jackson got impatient. “Enough. Doctor!”

  The doctor injected Selima and Ama held her hand as she passed out. She looked at the two men. “Please take care of her.”

  One of them nodded and the other stood stone-faced. Ama kissed her sister’s forehead, and the men carried Selima out. Ama was terrified, then, that Jackson would go back on his word and he saw it on her face. “We had an agreement, Ama. Your sister will be safe.”

  And for some reason, she believed him. She sat down heavily on the bed and felt exhausted. The doctor looked at her and felt her forehead. “You’re running a temperature. Maybe I should check your wound out.”

  Jackson nodded. “I’ll give you ten minutes, Doc. Do whatever she needs.”

  He left them alone. The doctor helped her out of her dress and winced when he saw the new wounds. “I don’t have long, but I will take care of these.” He leaned in closer. “My dear, I must tell you. I ran the blood tests. There is a slight infection, but nothing that won’t be knocked out by the antibiotics. There is something else. You are pregnant, my dear.”

  Inca, still confined to a wheelchair, asked Vanni to roll her towards Enda’s study. When she got there, the two men were still locked in discussion over a map of California. They looked up as she was rolled in.

  “Thanks, Vanni,” Inca smiled at her nurse, who grinned and went out of the room. Inca waved a couple of photos at Enda. “Enda, these came from the fire-damaged stuff. Can you tell me where they are?”

  He took the old, faded, and damaged Polaroid from her and studied it. One showed a field and trees, the sun scorched. The other a set of stepping stones across a small creek. Enda frowned. “I don’t know, Inca. Why?”

  “I’m thinking—is it somewhere Jackson went as a kid? The photos are old and faded, but I was just wondering if it’s somewhere Jackson feels close to, or has good memories of, he might …” She trailed off as she looked at the skepticism on their faces. “I know. I’m reaching, but, for the love of God, he has to be somewhere.”

  Raff went to his wife and hugged her. “Any idea is good at this stage, Bella. Sorry if we seemed a little off.”

  Enda nodded. “Agreed. Anything is good now. Olivier will be here soon; we’ll ask him if he can tell us anything.

  Two hours later, Olivier was nodding his head. “Yeah …this was a place our mom used to take us when she wanted to get us away from all the ‘opulence,’ as she put it, and let us be normal kids for once. She used to make us fish in the creek and hike
through the hills. We always loved those days out; believe it or not, it was the one time that Jackson and I actually got along.”

  Enda tried not to get too excited. He exchanged a look with Inca. “Where is it?”

  “Out in Fresno County, near a place called Humphrey’s Station.” Olivier finally got it. He looked between the three of them. “Really? You think he could be there?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Enda said. “At this moment, I’ll take any lead.”

  “We have some men in the area, scouring it, and I mean, practically inch-by-inch. There must be some evidence of him being there if we’re right.”

  Suddenly the door burst open and Vanni came in. “Mr. Gallo, please, the television …”

  She was breathless and half-crying. Enda flicked on the tv and they all froze.

  Selima Rai, tears pouring down her face, was flanked by two female police officers, begging them all to save her sister.

  Ama sat on the cool bathroom floor, her head in her hands. Pregnant. How? She had been on the pill for months now …only she had missed the last few days for obvious reasons. Did that mean the baby was Jackson’s? God …

  But she couldn’t hate the little life inside her, because there was a chance, a very small chance that it could be Enda’s child. Earlier, before she knew about her pregnancy and after Selima had gone, she had come to terms with the fact that she would probably be killed soon. She accepted it.

  But now? She had to try and save herself and the baby. That was evident. She started as Jackson came into the suite and called her name.

  “In here. I’ll be out in a second.”

  She flushed the toilet and splashed water on her face. When she went back into the bedroom, Jackson smiled at her. “Time to watch a little T.V., darling.”

  In the bondage room, where Ama deliberately didn’t look at the bed where she had been so hideously violated the night before, Jackson switched on the television. He flicked to the news channel, and when Ama saw her sister’s face, safe, with the police, she burst into tears. Thank god. Thank god …