Claiming His Prize

by Sam Crescent

  “I care,” he said. “I care about what happens to you, and no one is ever going to harm you. Don’t even worry about the guy that did that to your face. I took care of him.”

  She didn’t know what that meant. Had he called the cops? Carlton was dangerous, even for a man like Chains. She didn’t want to push her luck by delving deeper, so she just nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m not very good at feelings, but with you, I’ll try.” Chains stared at her. “The world is an ugly place, and I found a beautiful start to stare at.”

  Heat filled her cheeks. It was so sweet of him to say so.

  “I’m not beautiful.”

  “You are to me. When I was a kid I’d often wish on the stars, hoping to have a better life. Praying for something more. When nothing changed, I’d pray for something else. Seemed like an endless cycle, like God had forgotten me.”

  “What did you pray for?” she asked, curious. Other women would be trying to find a way out of this mess. She found herself drawn to this man, and it wasn’t because he’d taken her. He was … attentive.

  “I prayed for something to call my own.” The sound of the doorbell ringing interrupted their conversation. “Food’s here.”

  He got up and left.

  He never touched her. She’d talked, and he’d listened.

  Wiping the tears from her face, she closed the bathroom door and slipped into the waiting bath. She washed her body and hair quickly and then stood up, reaching for the robe. She tied her hair up in a towel and stared at herself in the mirror. She was twenty-five and felt much older. Her life was slipping away as she lived for everyone but herself. Her eye was still a deep purple hue, and it was a constant reminder of the life she wanted no part of.

  When she entered the bedroom, Chains was already there. “Food’s in the dining room.”

  Her stomach chose that moment to growl, and he chuckled.

  “I’ve been neglecting my duties.” He held his hand out.

  Any sane woman would ignore the hand. She took it, and felt completely safe as he led her down to dinner.

  Chapter Four

  One week later

  Chains studied his reflection as he scraped the blade along his jawline. He’d always shaved with a straight razor rather than the new disposable ones. Some things shouldn’t be messed with.

  He rinsed his razor off and set it aside before splashing water on his face. When he looked back up at himself, he wasn’t sure what the fuck he saw.

  What have you done?

  Everything had been going so well, too well, with Lori. After the third day, she started to get squirrely, questioning her confinement, and worrying about bills and her siblings. That’s when he had to return her to his basement.

  Chains wasn’t sure what he expected. It’s not like he planned on kidnapping her. It all happened so fast, his decision made on instinct. One he still didn’t regret, even though he knew he should.

  His chloroform was for marks with contracts on their heads. He was mixing business and pleasure, and Boss would have his head if he found out.

  Nobody knew the real Chains, and maybe he didn’t even know himself. His entire social life was an act. He was never on anyone’s radar, not even Boss’s. When he was on assignment, the other men at Killer of Kings assumed he was just one of the guys, carefree, competent at his job.

  Yes, he did his job well. Killing was in his blood. But that’s where their assumptions failed. The mask Chains wore for the world was a veneer to hide the darkness within. Recon and fulfilling contracts kept his mind busy, kept the demons at bay. Since before he could remember, his life had been a game of survival, selling his soul just to stay alive. Many of the experiences he’d lived through were mercifully blocked out of his mind, but they still shaped him into the monster he was today.

  But since being hired on at Killer of Kings, he wanted more, wanted all he’d been denied. He overindulged in everything from women to cars. Chains demanded the best, like somehow the material possessions would make up for a bullshit life. It was all smoke and mirrors … until he saw Lori.

  When he saw her, his needs became real. He deserved her, wanted her, and he wouldn’t be denied. There was a piece of his past swirling in her eyes. He could see right through her exterior down to the pain, the burden, the desperation. She needed saving, and he wanted to be her hero. She’d been the one thing he’d prayed for most of his life. His own shining star.

  His cellphone rang, so he grabbed a towel and dried his face as he returned to his bedroom. The cell was lying on the bed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Vacation’s over,” said Boss. “I need you to handle the El Diablo situation.”

  He exhaled his irritation before speaking. “You too? The guy’s name is Xavier. I’m not calling him El Diablo.”

  “Whatever. Just keep tabs on his movements. I want that fucker working for me.”

  Boss had a hard-on to hire Xavier ever since he knew about his past. The man was a killing machine, and good at it. If he wasn’t so unstable, he could be the perfect fit, but then again, all the men at Killer of King were fucked up. Chains included.

  Xavier had refused Boss’s offer to join the organization during the showdown with Shadow and the mafia hit, but Boss wasn’t ready to call it quits. He always got what he wanted. Chains already figured Boss was onto something that would bring Xavier to their side. Boss always told him that everyone had a weakness. All he needed was time to find Xavier’s, if he didn’t have it already.

  “He’s not new to this. He’ll know I’m on to him.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping. The information I have will make it too good for him to pass up,” said Boss.

  “Is that it?” He should have known Boss would already have something Xavier would want or need.

  “Afraid not. I’ve emailed you the details on a new contract. Last minute situation. I need it done tonight.”

  He didn’t like the idea of leaving Lori alone in the house for too long. Even though she was chained in his basement, he was trying his best to keep her comfortable. She was his secret toy, and he didn’t want to share her with the world.

  “I’ll handle it,” he said, not wanting to raise suspicions. Chains rarely refused Boss. The old bastard had given him a new lease on life. Boss had seen his potential when he’d been on a contract in Russia over a decade ago, and the rest was history.

  A minute of silence followed. It felt like Boss could read his mind through the phone line. Chains ran a hand over his head as he waited.

  “Everything okay?” asked Boss. Had Chains used a different tone? He’d tried hard not to give away anything, but Boss was ridiculously intuitive.

  “Just feeling overwhelmed lately. Nothing I can’t handle, though.”

  More silence. “I know where you came from. I’m the one to bring you here, remember that?”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. The things you’ve been through are bound to haunt you,” said Boss. “You’ve just got to bury that shit and not let it control you. Once you give it power, you’re really fucked.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Check your email.” Then Boss hung up.

  Chains hadn’t been bullshitting. Before he’d found Lori, he’d been at an all-time low. His killing desire had taken over. She’d saved him as much as he’d saved her.

  A few days ago, he’d contemplating taking Lori’s life. To make the problem he created go away. It’s what he usually did. The internal battle had left a nice hole in his drywall. He couldn’t hurt her. She was a victim, innocence personified, and it filled him with satisfaction to know she was safely under his roof. He just needed to keep control of himself, to not let his past define him, although it was easier said than done.

  He finished dressing, black jeans and hoodie, then stopped by his weapons room. He pulled back the protective sheet on the center table and admired his collection. The email told him
everything he needed to know. This was a quick find and eliminate, and within ten minutes, Maurice had the location. Now it was Chains’s turn to kill. Just thinking about it filled him with a rush.

  Chains had brought Lori her dinner an hour ago. He’d get her dishes and leave her some snacks.

  He unlocked the basement door and took the stairs one by one. Lori was sitting on the bench reading one of the books he’d left for her. When she looked up at him, all his venom slipped away. “You all done with dinner?”

  “I’m done,” she said.

  He squatted near her. “What are you reading there?”

  She rolled her eyes and set the book aside. “I don’t need the books.”

  “It was just a question.”

  “What’s going to happen to me, Chains?” Hearing her say his name was music to his ears. He wanted to hear her say it over and over again.

  “I’ve already told you, I’ll take care of you. If you hadn’t been so difficult last week, you’d still have the run of the house.”

  She frowned, waving an arm in the air. “I know, why don’t you put up some bars, and I’ll be like a monkey in a cage. You can feed me bananas through the cracks.”

  Lori had been getting bolder each day. At least she had some fire. When he’d first taken her, she’d been broken and vulnerable. Her face was healing up nicely, only a light highlight under her eye where the worst of the punch had been.

  “One day you’ll appreciate what I’m doing for you. Maybe you’ll thank me.”

  “Thank you for kidnapping me?”

  “For saving you,” he corrected. “You don’t have to worry about Carlton since I killed him, do you?”

  Her mouth fell agape. “W-what do you mean?”

  “I’m not following.”

  “You said you took care of Carlton. Now you’re saying you murdered him? Are you joking?”

  Chains was confused. She sounded upset. How could she have an emotional response for a man who’d beaten her and made her life miserable?

  “I don’t understand why you’re upset. Or shocked.” He stood up and wandered around the basement. It had changed a lot since Lori arrived. He’d added more lighting, set up a twin bed, bookshelf, even a fake plant. Women liked that kind of shit. The bathroom only had a toilet and sink, so he’d let her upstairs later to shower or bathe.

  “Murder? That’s not normal.” Then she got quiet, fiddling with her fingers.

  Fuck! His intention wasn’t to scare her. He wanted her to trust him.

  He sat beside her, and she shifted away. Chains grabbed her arm and held her steady. “Listen, little lady, I killed that asshole because he put his hands on you. I’d do it again if I had to. Nobody touches what’s mine.”

  “Yours?”

  He wet his lips. Chains wasn’t comfortable with emotion. He’d never been shown love or affection in the orphanages, and his adulthood was a mix of violence and distrust. But there was something special about Lori, and for the first time in his life, he had no desire for other women.

  “Listen, I’m not going to kill or hurt you. I thought you’d have realized that by now.” He released her arm, his fingers grazing her thigh as he pulled away. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you. Why isn’t that enough?”

  She shifted slightly to the side, looking at him. “You can’t force someone to love you, Chains. Why would you want that?”

  He frowned and stood up. “I never asked you to love me,” he said. He began his climb up the stairs. Before he reached the top, he turned. “But don’t be mistaken. You are mine.”

  ****

  Lori watched the door close behind Chains. Part of her wanted to shout out for him to come back down. Even though she was used to being alone in life, being trapped in the basement with little social interaction was messing with her head. She needed to talk. Right now, she wanted to scream.

  Her traitorous body lit up every time Chains visited her, to the point she swore she’d have a spontaneous orgasm. The man was built like a Greek god, all hard, lean muscle. His eyes, they held so much angst and darkness. She’d noticed it in the diner, but hadn’t paid much attention to it. Now, all she had was time.

  She wanted to hate him. She should hate him. The man was a murderer. The saddest part was, her kidnapper had been the nicest man she’d ever met. Her own father had been cold and selfish, her boss a prick, and every other man either abused her or treated her like trash. Chains was different. He made her feel like a princess … locked in a basement rather than a tower. And he’d killed … for her.

  Lori looked around the basement. It was nicer than her apartment, that’s for sure, professionally finished with only the best craftsmanship. She only had one leg shackle on now, and it was long enough for her to get around easily. There was everything she could want, and he never denied her a thing—except her freedom.

  The first few days had been her honeymoon phase, all excitement and disbelief. It had been fun—takeout, long conversations, playful banter. Too good to be true. When she realized Chains had no plans on letting her leave, she began to panic. Who would help take care of her siblings? Yes, they were getting older, and they weren’t her responsibility, but she cared too much. Now that she’d been returned to the basement, with too much time to think and process her life, she wasn’t so sure what she wanted. Freedom would mean finding a new job, living on the streets since her rent wasn’t paid last week, and dealing with the usual deep-seated loneliness that paralyzed her in depression many nights.

  Chains. She knew nothing about him. Well, not enough. And besides his obsession with keeping her trapped in his house, she didn’t know his intentions. He hadn’t made a move on her and hadn’t asked for anything. The strangest part—the man seemed genuinely attracted to her. Made her feel beautiful and special. She’d been fed so much bullshit since childhood about never finding a husband because she was too fat and awkward. Those toxic words had settled in deep, creating roots in her self-esteem. It felt indescribable to be wanted, cherished, and spoiled by this stranger. The longer she stayed, the more the real world became a distant blur. She felt so lonely, so forgotten. There was no one in the world who’d give a shit she’d disappeared from the world. Maybe she shouldn’t be so eager to escape. There was nothing waiting for her beyond these walls.

  She’d fallen asleep, and only woke to the sound of someone walking upstairs, and then a strip of light from under the door sent a soft glow of light down the stairs. Lori shifted amongst her blankets and hugged her pillow.

  When she heard the locks on the door, she closed her eyes. He checked on her every night without fail, like a loving parent. Nobody had ever checked on her before. He’d just stand or sit near her for a while, then return to the main floor.

  She pretended to sleep.

  Tonight was no different, except he’d been gone for hours before she finally fell asleep. The complete silence had been unnerving.

  His footsteps came closer, and her heartrate picked up, a mix of nerves, excitement, and a nagging desire. She heard the sound of the chair legs scraping the floor, then only his breathing. She’d almost think he’d left if not for the delicious scent of his musky cologne. She associated that smell with him alone, and it instantly brought down her anxiety.

  He made a little sound, similar to a chuckle.

  “I know you’re awake,” he finally said. His voice was deep and smooth. Not once had he lost his temper or made her feel scared by his words. It was her imagination driving her crazy.

  Should she keep faking?

  Chains sighed, picking up her leg chain that pooled on the floor by her bed. “When I was young, they used to chain me up and beat me shitless. I was weak back then, so I had no choice but to take it.” More silence. “I keep telling myself this is different because your chains are to keep you safe.” He dropped the metal to the floor.

  Lori kept her eyes shut tight.

  “I remember once when I was twelve, they broke at least four of my ribs. When the
y were done with me, I was on my own. No parents, no doctor, nobody but myself.” He shifted in his seat. “There were others, of course. They beat this one girl right in front of me. I thought she was dead when they left. She made it through, but I still remember the black eye on her pretty face. I was too fucking scared to help her.”

  She may be a fool, but she pushed herself up into a sitting position. “You helped me,” she said.

  Lori wasn’t sure why, but there was a connection between them. A weird, twisted connection that she couldn’t understand. She was inexplicably drawn to him. Even though Chains was surrounded by darkness, there was a reason for it, triggers from deep in his past.

  “When I saw you in the diner, your beautiful face beaten, your eyes sad—I had to do something. Had to fix it. I’ve changed a lot in the past twenty years. I’ll never be a victim, never stand on the sidelines, either.”

  She wanted to ask why he’d kidnapped her. He could have dealt with Carlton and not taken her home, chaining her in his basement. It didn’t make sense. “Then why are you punishing me?”

  He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Punishing you? I’m trying my best to make you happy.”

  “You could have helped me without trapping me here.”

  His shoulders were back, his chin slightly jutted up. The man had a strong jaw and full lips. “I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life, but I’ve been through a hell of a lot worse. I like to think of you as a bit of mercy thrown my way, and trust me there’s never been much.”

  To hear that she was somehow a blessing to Chains was indescribable. From nothing to someone’s everything? As much as she wanted this fantasy to be real, she had to think logically.

  “What about me? My freedom?”

  He licked his lips. “I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing.” Chains sat only a foot away. He leaned over and ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “Stay with me.”

  There was such vulnerability in his tone. Her own emotional response surprised her. Why did she care? Lori closed her eyes and savored his touch. In that moment, she realized how starved she was for affection. At twenty-five, she was a working machine, an empty, sad working machine. It was no way to live.