Marcus leaned down and grabbed the thick blanket off his sleeping bag and marched towards the door. He slid the key in the lock and opened it. The light played across her form huddled under the thin sheet and he watched her shiver as another quake passed through her muscles. Then she stilled.
Still asleep. He knew her breathing well. He’d memorized every piece of footage he’d had on her before the police took it all. He’d spent six months memorizing her.
He shut the door quietly and moved to the bed, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light as he stared down at her. She was curled into a ball, her hair a flare above her head on the bed. Marcus shook out the blanket and then draped it over her.
Then he waited.
A moment later she shook in another wave of chills, her teeth clacking together, a groan slipping from her in her sleep. A good man would warm her up. A good man would hold her until she stopped shivering. And Marcus was more than happy to oblige. He removed his clothes in silence and carefully climbed onto the small bed behind her. Her forehead was almost against the wall, her knees braced against it, her legs folded over her core. Had there ever been a woman so fucking perfect?
His body touched hers and he almost jumped. She was freezing.
Stupid. Stupid fucking idiot. You want her to get sick?
Without another thought he pressed himself against her, bending his legs where hers bent until every inch of his warm skin that could possibly be touching hers finally was. He slid his arm around her and tugged her back to him, holding her tightly. But she still didn’t wake, another wave of chills racked her body and he leaned up on his elbow to watch her. Her face pinched, her brows pulling together, and then she melted back against him. A puff of breath escaped her lips, and her muscles, at first rigid with the tension of her shivers, finally relaxed.
She was in his arms. Thalia was in his arms.
He watched as her breathing evened as his flesh took the chill out of hers. With one hand he carefully wound her hair away from her body, hoping it would dry on its own.
He was keeping her safe.
The thought filled him and pushed away all his earlier thoughts of revenge and punishment. All his anger at her shouts, the fire in her eyes. He wanted to shelter her, to be the one to keep her safe, to give her everything she needed.
His hand trailed down her stomach and she stirred. He stopped. He didn’t want her awake, he didn’t want her to wake up and fight this. Her body knew the truth. Her body knew what she needed, her body knew she needed him.
For the first time since she’d left he laid his head down behind hers, breathing her scent in. All wild sweetness, all female, all his. His arm tightened slightly to keep her firmly against him, against his warmth under the blanket. And for the first time in a long time he felt himself drifting off to sleep without half a bottle of liquor in his stomach.
She was what he needed. She was everything. And she’d realize soon that he was what she needed – or he didn’t know what he’d do.
Chapter Thirteen
“You haven't found them?!” James gripped the phone tighter as he listened to Jake’s update.
“No, sir.” It was clear Jake had not wanted to be the one to make this call.
“It’s been five bloody days, how can you have no idea where they are? I thought you were following a lead. The abandoned SUV? You said that was what you were doing!” James shouted into the phone, suppressing the urge to throw the glass of whisky in his hand. Instead, he emptied it and returned to Katherine’s wet bar to refill the glass. His whole world was a nightmare.
Two. More. Emails.
Full of her voice. Thalia pleading. And his voice. The fucked up things he said to her. The things he made her say. Made her do.
James had tried not to listen to the last one, knowing the audio would only shred him, but it let him know she was alive. Even if it left him in such a state that he’d torn apart the room he slept in and the office he’d commandeered as his own hideaway. All he did every day was call every contact he could find that had any skill in tracking people or technology. His father had used an anti-corporate espionage team once to protect his business. It was just a high-class term for computer hackers, and James had used them before to try and take Marcus and Anthony down.
Not that it had worked like he had planned.
Apparently the Americans had caught Anthony, and completely lost track of Marcus. The police had found that house empty except for the latest girl that he’d left behind – Victoria something. And now he had Thalia again, and Jake’s team of mercenaries had nothing, the hackers had nothing. They couldn’t find anything on the emails. No one could find anything, anywhere.
James should have had him killed. Morality be damned.
“Dr. Hawkins, I promise you we are doing everything we can. You said you received another email from him. Yesterday, correct?” Jake was speaking gently, trying not to set him off.
“Want to listen to it, Jake?” James asked, his voice frigid on the line.
“That’s not necessary.” He heard the man muffle the phone and return to it with a sigh, “At least we know he hasn’t killed her.”
“I’m sure she’s so grateful for that fact, Jake.” He knew the remark was cruel. He knew, at least some part of him knew, that Jake and his team had been hunting around the clock. Sleeping in shifts, looking at highway cameras, gas station cameras, trying to identify the vehicle Marcus had switched to.
How had no one seen him moving between vehicles? How was that even possible? It had been broad daylight.
“Sir, I assure you, we will not stop until we find them. We are pretty sure we know of a gas station he stopped at in an Expedition. He was moving southwest, either New Jersey or Pennsylvania.” Jake talked to someone away from the phone before he came back. “I’ll update you as soon as we verify anything.”
“When you find them, you’ll do what I asked?” James leaned his head against the window, looking out at the endless white of Katherine’s backyard.
“Yes, sir. We’ll restrain him until you can arrive. Then you can do what you want.” Jake paused, “And if it’s alright for me to say, most of the guys want to be there when you do it. We’re all a little... invested at this point, sir.”
James gritted his teeth, trying to breathe through the tension in his chest. At least they all understood. They finally understood, and James was going to make Marcus wish he had given up on Thalia the first time he’d told him to. “I honestly don’t care who watches, Jake. Find them and you can start a betting pool on what I do first.”
“I’ll tell the guys that. And, sir? Try not to play the files anymore. He’s sending them to get to you, that’s all it is. It lets us know she’s alive, but after that - destroy them.” He sighed, “You’re a good man, Dr. Hawkins. Don’t let him ruin the person she wants to come home to.”
James sighed and looked across the trashed office. The broken glass he hadn’t let Katherine’s maids clean up, the stacks of paper he’d printed to cross-reference when he was doing his own research on Marcus’ movements. Going back through everything the hackers had found on him. “Right. Okay, Jake. Update me soon.”
“I will. Goodbye, sir.” Jake hung up and James dropped into the chair at the desk. His laptop was open to a map of the northeastern United States. His knowledge of the geography of the states was sketchy at best and he zoomed in on the area Jake had mentioned. The map made it look so small, so easy to search, but the scale of the US was impossibly large. Even zoomed in Marcus could have driven three hundred, even five hundred kilometers. James clicked the minus sign on the map and the details of the map disappeared to reveal more states, longer distances – an incredible vastness of space where they could be.
“How far did he take you?” James spoke quietly to himself before he shut the lid of the laptop hard. Forcing himself to look away from all the potential space.
Don’t let him ruin the person she wants to come home to.
The words weighe
d heavy on him, and he tried to remember the last time he’d showered, eaten a meal, done anything other than obsess in this room and make angry phone calls. If Jake found them, this is what she’d see when she got back. A wrecked room, a wrecked boyfriend, and she would be the one who needed him.
And then there was Katherine.
How could he face his sister again like this? Half-drunk and shouting at her staff, breaking her things in fits of rage fueled anguish?
James shook his head and stood up, sliding the doors to the office apart as he headed back to his room. One of the maids was walking by and she froze, wide-eyed. Fantastic, they were terrified of him.
“It’s alright. I’m sorry I shouted at you, you can tidy the office up. I’m going upstairs.” He tried to speak softly, but his voice was raw with the emotion burning a hole through his chest. She nodded and moved towards the open doors. He turned towards her and she actually jumped. Guilt ate at him. “I truly am sorry, this - I’m not myself right now.”
“I understand, sir. We just want to help. However we can.” She was tense, nervous to be so close to him. Which was understandable since he was sure she had been the one that had tried to come in the room after the second email. He’d thrown an entire bottle of vodka across the room. Great. Now he was terrorizing women.
He nodded at her, “I know. I am going to clean up, and I was wondering if the chef could just leave something for me to eat.”
“He’s been making a plate for you at every meal just in case, sir, but I’ll tell him.” Her eyes were a dark brown, like melted chocolate, and they looked sad. For him. For all of them. He was such a prick for taking any of this out on her. And the whole staff was trying to help. He was shouting at them, and they were all trying to help.
“Thank you. I -” James cleared his throat, taking a step backwards towards the stairs. “Just, thank you.” He turned around and left her in the doorway.
When Jake found them, he was going to be someone worth coming home to.
Chapter Fourteen
A bottle of water.
Thalia stayed still on the bed, keeping her breathing even, not wanting to make the bed creak as she stared at the bottle of water by the door.
He had come in the room again and she hadn’t woken up. The bottle of water by the door was proof. It hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep. Had he lain down with her again? Had she slept through him having his hands on her?
The memory of waking in his arms rose up again. It had been a few days, or was it a week, before. It didn’t matter. What did matter was the way he’d known the moment she was awake, his body snapping into instant alertness. Then the quiet, sinister threat he’d whispered in her ear: Think before you act, Thalia.
He’d done it twice since.
Once while she slept. She had woken up when he got on the bed and she’d stayed still, but it hadn’t worked; he had noticed the change in her breathing. He’d pulled her against him and talked to her about their future. When she hadn’t responded the way he wanted, unable to fake even the smallest shred of excitement, he’d gotten angry. Screamed at her. She had screamed back, he’d backhanded her hard enough that her teeth cut the inside of her cheek and she’d spit blood onto the floor. That had made him leave the room, shouting again that she had to stop making him hurt her.
Wasn’t that what all abusers said?
The other time had been after one of the times he’d fucked her. She had come again and again, and she’d just wanted to be away from him. She wanted to scream into the mattress, and curse herself, and cry because her body was so fucking stupid. He’d refused to leave, and he’d fallen asleep next to her, trapping her against the wall in his arms.
And now there was a bottle of water by the door. Like a flag staking a claim. He had been there. She hated that she was thirsty. The human body was such a weak machine. So many weaknesses. Thirst, hunger, pain, pleasure. It bent to all of them. He used all of them. When was the last time he’d brought her water? Even thinking about it made her throat itch.
But the sooner she got up, the sooner she moved on the bed, the sooner he would know she was awake. If she was awake, she was fair game. She couldn’t listen to him hurt Katherine again, so she’d have to submit. To do her best not to fight back. The first time he’d hurt Katherine had been bad enough. The second time? The time after she’d told him she hated him? It had gone on and on until Thalia had covered her ears and screamed to drown it out. Her throat had been raw when it had finally stopped. What day had that been? How many days had she even been here? She could never tell how long she’d slept. And Marcus was too smart to tell her the truth. She’d read in a book once that it was a common technique to break someone down by confusing their understanding of time. Saying ‘good morning’ when it was the middle of the afternoon and they’d only slept a few hours, saying ‘good night’ when it was morning.
It was like before. No clocks. No windows. No one else. Just him.
Her whole world narrowed to just him. Interaction or no interaction. Food or no food. Water or no water.
Fuck, she was thirsty.
Maybe she could finish the water before he came in. The last time she’d upset him he’d taken the rest of a bottle of water with him. Screw it. She threw off the blanket and moved quickly to the door, grabbing the bottle of water before she moved back under the covers. Opening it she drank quickly, the cool rush hit her empty stomach and she shivered, but she kept drinking. She needed it. Thalia finally stopped, breathing deeply as she put the cap back on. Still a third left, but it was more water than she’d had in a while. Lying on her side she traced the mountain on the label, her nail crinkling the plastic as she stared at the intricate little artwork of the logo. ‘North Mountain Water’. She was reading the label of a bottle of water because it was something. She’d already practically memorized the ingredients on the protein bar wrapper tucked under the mattress. This was at least kind of peaceful looking. A crystal blue lake formed the background for most of the text on the bottom of the label. Her stomach churned and she silently prayed to whatever deity was listening that she hadn’t drank too much too fast. A shiver rushed through her and she sat up, breathing slowly to push back the wave of nausea.
A few deep breaths and the nausea faded, replaced by a light-headed tingling. It started in her lips, and spread. She felt heat rush up her chest and neck in a blush, and the tingling got stronger. Like her skin was statically charged. She half expected her hair to be standing up, but it wasn’t. The feeling was inside her, spreading down her stomach, slipping between her thighs until her pussy was wet with the odd flickering, electric pulses. Her head was swimming, and she climbed off the bed because the sheets suddenly felt scratchy. Too much contact with her skin. They were itchy.
Except, when she got off the bed the itchy feeling didn’t fade. Her arms, her legs, her stomach, it felt like someone was holding a balloon inches from her skin. That tense, hyper awareness just before the spark of electricity shocked you. Thalia pushed her hands into her hair and heard the whine slip out of her mouth as she backed against the cool wall. Her skin was hot. The static was making her skin hot, and the itchy tension was pooling between her thighs. Her pussy was soaked, the tops of her thighs damp with it.
What the fuck?
She whined again, gritting her teeth as heat pulsed up her spine and her clit responded like an echo. She had to put effort into not moaning, biting down on her knuckles. Thalia knew he could hear her in this room. He’d proven it. Repeating things she’d said aloud when she was talking to herself. She didn’t talk to herself anymore, and she couldn’t moan. She couldn’t do anything to call him in here. Not when her body was -
“Fuck...” she slid to her knees, as a wave of tense arousal made her breath hiss between her teeth. Her head was foggy, delirious with the overwhelming sensations. Every inch of her skin was tingling, and too hot – she was going to burn alive inside her own skin. Sweat broke out across her and she wanted to lie out on the conc
rete. Just for a minute, to cool down, to let the delirium pass.
The door opened and she lifted her head, aware on some level that she was on the floor, kneeling. Her knees spread wide, her hands on the floor between them.
“Let me help you, Thalia.” Marcus let the door shut behind him and walked towards her. A flickering warning somewhere in her mind told her to run, but it was washed away in a wave of electric sensation. When he touched her arm, her body lit up like he’d set off a firework inside her nervous system. The shock of it made her buckle, but it hadn’t hurt. It was too much. Too fast. Her breaths were hard and quick as she looked up at him, her mind a golden haze trying to process everything. The air, the light, the pulse under her skin, the movement of breath in her lungs. The world was too much. He crouched in front of her, “How do you feel?”
Salvaged by Love (Thalia Book 3) (The Thalia Series) Page 20
