by Hamel, B. B.
“Why, doctor, that sounds very unethical.”
“Extremely.” I kiss her neck. “But you seem to like it.”
She laughs and pushes me away. I grin at her then lead her over to an open space on the mat.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s work for real.”
She sighs a little. She’s wearing these tight yoga pants that make her ass look like heaven and a simple black t-shirt. The sports bra compresses her breasts just enough to hide them from me, but I know what she looks like stripped bare, and I know how badly I want another taste of it.
I start with some stretching. I try to keep my mind on the task at hand and keep the excessive touching to a minimum. She laughs every time I grab her ass and swats me away, but I can tell she likes it.
We go through the routine. I know she’s struggling a little bit based on the look on her face, but we keep going. We do some simple exercises that leave her breathless and sweating and clearly in pain.
“Want to stop?” I ask. “We can take a break, you know.”
“I know. But if we keep going, I might heal faster.”
I smile a little bit. She’s so strong. I like that about her. “Just a short break.”
“Fine.” She sighs and sits down. “You don’t need to beg.”
I laugh and grab her a water bottle. She takes it happily and looks at me. “So. I’m the only girl you’ve ever brought home, huh?”
I wince and sit next to her. “I was waiting for that question.”
“You have to admit, it’s a little interesting.”
“Maybe to you.”
“Come on.”
“Look, this isn’t the place I want to bring women, okay?”
“Not even as a teenager?” She nudges up against me. “Come on. Rich guy like you, big house like this. It’s a babe magnet.”
“You’d think,” I say. “But no, not really. I went to an all-boys private boarding school my whole life. I mostly spent summers here, otherwise, I was away. There were plenty of girls, just not here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Plenty of girls?”
I lean back on my hand and grin at her. “Jealous?”
“Not at all.”
“Good. You shouldn’t be. It was all just practice for you.”
She laughs at that. “Right. And the hundreds of men before you were just practice, too.”
My eyes smolder at her. “Better be joking.”
“And now you’re the jealous one.”
“Damn right.” I grab her hair and kiss her. She laughs and kisses me back.
“I can’t decide if I like how possessive you are.”
“You do.” I kiss her neck and bite her lip. “I think it gets you off. Hot, rich doctor wants to own you and fuck you at his leisure.”
“When you put it that way…”
I laugh and bite her lip again before standing. “Come on. We have more work to do.”
She sighs but she doesn’t complain.
We finish the routine together. She puts in a lot of good work and when we’re done, she’s on the floor sweating and breathing hard. I grin and watch her, loving how sexy she looks covered in sweat. There’s a noise over near the door that pulls my attention away from her though.
Lora’s standing over there, leaning against the frame. “What are you two doing?” she asks.
“Working out,” I say.
“Torture,” Amber says. “Torturing me. He’s killing me, I’m not even joking.”
I laugh and nudge her with my foot. “Cut it out. You’re being dramatic.”
“Torture,” she groans.
Lora laughs. “I saw the lights on down here and was like, there’s no way someone’s in there. Then I remembered you’re here.”
“Seriously, nobody works out in here?”
“I know. It’s a crime.”
“You could use it, you know.”
She looks indignant. “I go running.”
“There are treadmills.”
“Outside.” She makes a face at the machines. “Those are too easy.”
I laugh at her. “Of course they are.” I look at Amber, who’s writhing around on the floor. “Lora’s always been an overachiever. She was the valedictorian her year.”
“Really?” Amber asks, looking up.
“Really, but it’s not that big of a deal. I graduated with a class of fifty.”
“Still. Cool.”
Lora shrugs. “Listen. I wanted to talk to you guys, actually.” She hesitates a second. “I saw this… thing.”
“You saw a thing?” I ask.
“It’s kind of weird. I was debating whether I was going to show you or not but I think you should probably know about it.”
“Okay, now you’re being really weird.”
Lora laughs awkwardly. “Just stay here, okay?”
She runs off before I can answer. Amber sits up and drinks some water. “She’s nice.”
“Yeah, she is, but she’s up to something.”
“Come on. Not everyone’s scheming all the time.”
I glance at her. “You don’t know my family.”
“Clearly.”
We don’t have to wait long. Lora comes back with a little laptop and sits down in front of us cross-legged. She types rapidly, eyes squinting at the screen. I sit next to Amber and wait.
Lora turns the screen around. “This popped into my feed earlier. I thought it was a joke at first, but…” She trails off.
I stare at the screen.
“What am I looking at?”
“It’s an ad,” she says. “I have no clue how it’s targeting me. I bet it’s targeting, like, everyone on Facebook.”
“That’s got to cost…”
“Thousands of dollars?” Lora laughs. “Yeah. I know.”
I stare at the post. It’s from Samuel Gibbins, Amber’s father. It’s a simple post with the words “MISSING: MY DAUGHTER, AMBER GIBBINS” in bold at the top.
Underneath, it continues:
Amber Gibbins, my pride and joy, was taken from me by a nasty and horrible man. She’s been seduced by her doctor, a man named Brent Lofthouse. This unethical and frankly illegal act has caused me much pain. All I want is my daughter back.
I am offering one million dollars for the safe return of my daughter. Bring her back to me without the Lofthouse fraud, and you’ll earn your reward.
Good luck, cowboys.
And under that is a large picture of Amber’s face with the words “ONE MILLION REWARD” underneath it.
I look at Amber and she’s ghost-white. Her normally fair skin is bleached out, washed completely. She’s sweating again, but it’s a sick anxiety sweat, a heavy stink that hangs over her like a fog.
“I’m sorry,” Lora says. “I thought you should know what he’s doing.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I, uh… thanks.”
Lora bites her lip. “Is that part about you… true?” she asks.
“I was her doctor,” I say. “That’s true.”
“But, I mean, you two are… together?”
I hesitate. “Something like that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He’s a lying piece of shit,” Amber says, her voice so harsh that it startles both me and Lora.
Amber stares at the screen then struggles to her feet. She limps away, over to where her cane is leaning against the wall, and grabs it. She slams the cane over and over against a metal bench press frame, sending loud clanks through the otherwise empty room.
I sit and watch. I know she needs to get her anger out and I just let it happen. Eventually, she stumbles forward, and I’m already there. I grab her and hold her before she can fall.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s okay.” I sit her down on the bench press and look at Lora. “It’s not that simple.”
“I figured.” She shuts her laptop. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“He did this.” Amber extends her leg, wincing at the pain.
“This is his fault. If I had stayed, he would’ve done worse.”
I look at Lora, willing her to believe us. “That’s why we’re here. I couldn’t have let her stay with him. I figured it out, based on the way the leg broke and the accident she claimed to have been in, and it just… it spiraled from there.”
Lora stares at the two of us then shakes her head. “Well, shit. That’s really insane.”
Amber laughs a little bit. I smile, uncertain. I want to hug her and hold her, but I’m not sure what she needs right now.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“I can imagine. I mean, we’re part of this family, after all.” Lora stands. “You’ll be okay here. My parents won’t be happy about this, though.” She looks at me.
“I’ll handle them.”
“He used your name. Our name.”
“I know.”
“Mom and Dad—”
“I know.”
She stops herself and shakes her head. “Yeah, okay, big brother. You can handle it, I guess.”
“Listen, keep this to yourself for now, okay?”
“They’ll hear about it sooner or later. Their friends are all over Facebook.”
I laugh a little. “Yeah, I know. Just, keep it between us still.”
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
She nods once then looks at Amber. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you. For what it’s worth, your dad seems like a real fucking asshole.”
“Thanks,” Amber says.
Lora hesitates then leaves the room without another word.
I hug Amber then. She melts into my embrace, holding me tight. We stay like that for a little while, not speaking. I just want her to know that I’m here for her, no matter what.
Eventually though, the hug ends.
“What do we do?” she asks. “What if your parents are mad and they make us leave?”
“They won’t. Not if we tell them the truth.”
Amber hesitates. “Will they believe?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Lora probably doesn’t believe it all. And we didn’t tell her every detail.”
“We can go somewhere else.”
“If all of Facebook is seeing that ad…” I trail off. “I don’t know where’s safe.”
“Somewhere has to be. Somewhere rural, without internet.”
I sigh and rub my eyes. “We’ll figure it out. For now, let’s try to stay here.”
“If you think it’s safe.”
I clench my jaw. “It has to be. Otherwise, I don’t know what we’ll do.”
I help her to her feet and hold her for a second. “I know you’re trying. Maybe it’s better if we just—”
I don’t let her finish that thought. “No,” I say, a little anger in my voice. “We’re keeping you safe and away from that fucking asshole. Do you hear me? You’re mine now, Amber.”
She nods a little. I kiss her lips gently. They taste like salt.
“Come on.” I take her hand and lead her out of the gym. “Let’s get you showered.”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice soft.
That motherfucker. I hate her father more than I can even express. The fact that he’d stoop to posting that on Facebook is horrendous.
Dragging my family name into this is a bad idea. The Lofthouse family is quiet and likes to keep it that way. We have money, connections, and power. My family doesn’t like to be in the spotlight.
And Samuel Gibbins just shined a light right in the center of us.
There will be consequences. I’m just not sure who those consequences will be aimed at.
13
Amber
After the workout, I shower and get changed. I find Brent sitting on a couch, staring angrily at a computer screen.
“Hey,” I say.
He closes the laptop lid. “Hey.”
“Listen. Can I go for a walk somewhere… outside?”
He cocks his head. “I think so, sure.”
“I just need to clear my head a little bit. Be alone with my thoughts. You know what I mean?”
He hesitates a second. “I don’t want to let you out of my sight.”
“I know you don’t. But it’ll help. I used to go on long walks around my dad’s ranch.”
He shifts and stands. “Can you handle it? I mean, your leg.”
“I’ll be okay. I won’t go too fast. And plus, didn’t you say that exercise will be good for me?”
He gives me a look and laughs. “Using my words against me. Smart.”
“I’ll be fine. There are grounds I can walk around on, right?”
“There’s a nice path.” He looks reluctant, but I can tell he’s giving in. “It stays in sight of the house but moves through the woods. It doesn’t go too close to the outer wall. You’ll be fine on that. I bet you could walk it twice without getting too bored.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He sighs. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
“I want to walk it alone,” I say.
“I know, I know. I’m just showing you the path.”
I smile and lace my arm through his. He leads me out of the room and down the stairs. We go slow and head outside through a back door. He leads me along the lawn until we find a dirt path, clearly well maintained, that snakes its way into the trees.
“Stay on the path,” he says. “And if you yell, we’ll hear.”
“Thank you. I’ll be okay.”
He nods, hesitates, then kisses me and leaves. I watch him go with a smile on my face.
I’ve never met someone that cared about me the way he does. There’s a deep, intense protectiveness running through him. I’m a stranger to him, just a random patient, but he went so far out of his way to figure out what was going on with me… and now he’s keeping me safe. I don’t know what to think about him, but I do know how I feel.
I feel safe. It’s strange, but it’s true. He protects me. And he possesses me. I think I like both.
I start walking. The path is even and smooth. My cane sometimes gets stuck in damp grass and mud but this is nice and dry. Sure enough, it leads into the trees, but not so far that I can’t see the house anymore.
I limp along, taking my time. It’s not exactly like walking on my father’s ranch, but it’s still pretty. There aren’t any cattle or the long rolling hills, but the trees are lush and birds chirp as I go along. I hear little creatures rustling in the bushes and squirrels run along a branch, chasing after each other.
It’s nice to be out in the open air for a little while, alone with my thoughts. I linger on Brent for a while, thinking about his hands on my body, his mouth against mine. I think about how it feels to be around him, and how fast this is all moving. I think about not wanting to be away from him for a second, and how scary that is.
Then there’s my father. And my future. I can’t see how I’m ever going to get past this, so long as my father still thinks he owns me.
That ad sent chills down my spine.
I know my father will do anything for his little empire. He cares about his money more than anything in the world. He’ll do whatever he thinks he has to do.
And clearly, he thinks he needs me.
Well, he thinks he needs me married to Michael. He thinks he needs his little dynasty.
One million dollars. Plus the thousands he’s spending on that ad campaign, which definitely isn’t cheap.
The problem is, he doesn’t value me. Or at least, he doesn’t value me for me, but for what he thinks I can get him. If it were just me, and this marriage wasn’t involved at all, he wouldn’t care about it at all. He wouldn’t offer a million dollars for my safe return from a kidnapper.
He’d rather see me dead than lose money on a deal.
But I have value to him. My marriage to Michael could be worth millions and millions. One million is nothing compared to what it could get him in the future.
That’s what scares me. I know my father and I know what he�
�s capable of. I know what he can do and how far he’ll go.
The ad campaign is just the start.
I limp forward and come around a bend. The path moves further from the house at this point. I keep going, careful of my footing, and follow the path until it comes out of the trees. I watch the house, sure that Brent is in there somewhere, staring out a window, watching over me. It almost makes me smile a little bit.
It takes about forty minutes to do one single pass. I hesitate before starting the next one. I can do one more before I get too exhausted to keep going. I limp along, trying to let myself enjoy nature.
I whistle a little bit to myself and it takes me a long moment to realize that the birds aren’t chirping anymore. It’s strangely quiet as I come to the spot in the path that bends away from the house again. I slow my pace down… then hear the crunch of leaves.
“Hello?” I say stupidly. “Brent?”
No answer. I hear another crunch. I start to turn around but I can’t run away if someone’s coming to hurt me. I start to panic, heart racing. I stumble further down the path, walking heavy on my cane. My leg’s aching now, although I could barely feel it before. The eerie silence around me feels heavy and I want to get away.
I turn the path and I can see the great house up ahead. All I need to do is cut across the lawn and I’ll be here. I’m maybe twenty feet beyond the tree line, but if I can step closer, maybe they’ll see me, maybe—
I hear more crashing and turn. A man comes toward me. He’s wearing baggy, paint-stained pants, and my first, irrational thought is about those pants. I don’t understand why someone here, with everything so pristine and clean and white, would have paint-stained clothes like that. He looks at me, his eyes dark and heavy, his pale skin sallow in the afternoon light. His gray hooded sweatshirt is a size too big and his hair is greasy.
“Amber Gibbins?” he asks.
“Yes, ah—”
He doesn’t slow down. He charges at me, grabs my wrist. “Come with me.”
“Who are you? Get off me.” I wrench my wrist away and stumble as my weight hits my bad leg. I groan but catch myself before I fall. I try to hit him with my cane but I’m off balance and it smacks uselessly against his shin.
He grabs me again, this time rough. He grabs me and pulls me against him. I scream as he throws me over his shoulder.
