Explicit Instruction

by Scarlett Finn

  ‘No!’

  ‘Then you weren’t going to strip down willingly for me.’

  Tearing the dress as he would have to if he was going to force himself on her. ‘You want them to think... why would you want them to think that you’re a rapist?’

  ‘Street cred,’ he grumbled and whipped off his tee-shirt.

  Flick froze to the floor at the sight of his torso, his broad chest and washboard abs. In all of her experience with men she had never seen such a perfect specimen. Every sinewy inch of him was toned, his muscular stance was lean but powerful, and her temptation to touch, to see if he was real, had her transfixed.

  ‘Get on the bed.’

  ‘What?’ she asked, snapping out of her trance.

  ‘Get on the bed,’ he said, retrieving some twine from a drawer.

  ‘But, I don’t—‘

  ‘There are two other rooms like this one,’ Rushe said. ‘The other guys sleep out there. If you run you’ll meet them on your way out.’

  Grabbing her arm he began to bind her wrist. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘If you fight against this it will cut you, and you don’t want an open wound out here. Infection’s a certainty,’ he said tying the twine. ‘Come.’

  Using the twine leash now on her wrist Rushe led her to the bed. When he leaned to the far corner Flick fell on the bed, and he tied the other end of the twine to the metal bedpost.

  ‘Why are you binding me?’

  ‘I don’t want to look for you in the woods when you do something stupid. If those guys get hold of you you’re on your own.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t get any false ideas,’ he said. ‘If you become a nuisance they can have at you.’

  ‘Why did you stop them?’

  Rushe gave her a shove toward the far corner, and she scrambled out of the way when he dropped onto the bed. On his side, he turned off the lamp and kept his back to her. Briefly, he punched at the wafer thin pillow, before he folded his arms with a grunt.

  ‘Get some sleep.’

  Flick slithered down onto her side on the bed at his back. She didn’t have much space but keeping herself tucked away, she managed to prevent them from touching. Tears burned her sinus’ again.

  The more that was revealed of her saviour, the more questions she had. Her tears receded as she pondered the perplexity. He’d comforted her, then he’d bound her. He’d given her privacy, then demanded her submission. Rushe was a contradiction in so many ways.

  Flick wondered if he’d let her understand where they were, and what was happening... and what her fate might be. But he hadn’t answered questions, and she doubted that would change.

  Being bound to the metal bedpost was awkward on her wrist, and Flick imagined sleep would be allusive. But at least for now she was out of harm’s way, and in this situation that was the most she could hope for.

  Chapter Two

  With there being no windows in the room, morning couldn’t intrude upon them. But the shack must have awoken because something made Flick stir. The woodsy smell mingled with a musky something she couldn’t identify.

  But in the mumbling of her dream-soaked mind she wriggled into the warmth that encircled her. This fog was comfy and cosy and she’d be happy to stay in it for a while.

  Except on another sigh something vibrated against her chest. The hard bed that heated her seemed to be grumbling. On opening her eyes Flick realised her bed was breathing. Hot, humid breath clouded her hair and the memory of last night smashed into her.

  Trying to shove upward, her arm stalled against the post he’d tied her to. Flattening her palm on his naked pectoral she pushed up from her base, snagging her hair on his stubble where her head had been snug under his chin.

  Flick was on top of him, their bodies chest to chest. Rushe’s eyes were closed, so she figured he was still asleep. But with him on his back, taking up all of the bed space, and her restrained Flick couldn’t slip off of him; there was nowhere for her to go. His arms were heavy and strong around her. One of his hands twined through her hair on the back of her skull.

  The other hand was under the shirt Flick wore. The apparel had been shoved out of the way to allow his large hand to palm her buttock. It rested there with entitlement. If she was offended she quickly got over it when she felt what was under her, pressing into her abdomen; thick and long, and hard. The daunting lump could only be one thing, and it made her eyes water. If he forced that on her, or any woman, she’d be split in two.

  Trying desperately to stay still Flick became hyperaware of every breath. The deeper she inhaled the farther that intruding, pulsing wood beneath her became. Flick’s experience with men was limited. She wouldn’t for a second consider herself worldly. In her first life – which was the life she’d left when her parents cast her out – men were careful. Or maybe they weren’t that worldly themselves.

  Having two older sisters meant Flick was used to being in shadow. Both of her sisters were gregarious and had the attention of the playboys who came to the Country Club. Her parents turned a blind eye to any dalliances in their younger days, and both women fell into line when their father deemed it time.

  Lucia married Roger Willis three years ago, and when Flick last saw them Vivian had been engaged to Martin Schifford. Both men were now executives in their father’s firm. Despite how things had ended she thought about her family every day. The disappointment she’d caused them all hung like a lead weight around her neck.

  Knowing that this situation she found herself in now was enough to be dealing with Flick told herself not to revisit that past pain. Thinking about what had happened was difficult enough without having to acknowledge the fact that she’d likely never see any of them again. Flick wouldn’t have the chance to get her grievances off her chest, and she wouldn’t have any time to make amends.

  Thus far a truce had been impossible because her family wouldn’t acknowledge their own fault in the circumstances. The only concession they’d been interested in was Flick’s, and it was only when she refused for a final time that all ties between them had been cut.

  Her shack mattress grumbled and sucked in a breath, raising her up, and digging that lump further into her. As Flick thought about her family, she’d been relaxed, considering the issue, stroking her hand up and down his muscled flesh. With another mutter, Flick was thrown aside and he sprang out of bed. Rushe stretched and strode out of the room without a word.

  The cold he’d warned her of seeped in, and the twine nipped at her wrist. Using her one free hand Flick tried to shift it out of the furrow it had created in her skin. But she couldn’t move it so she went to work on the bedpost except she had no luck loosening it from there either.

  After at least ten minutes of trying Flick gave up... until she caught sight of the drawers next to the bed. Reaching for the top one she shoved socks and tee-shirts and other useless items like gum and deodorant aside trying to find something that could cut the twine.

  She grazed cold metal and paused; pushing a tee-shirt from the item Flick saw a gun. Letting her fingers slide over the textured surface of the grip she picked it up, and was surprised by the weight of the object.

  The door opened, startling her. The gun was now set in her hand. Rushe lowered the towel he’d been using to dry his hair and shoved the door closed at his back.

  ‘What do you plan to do with that?’ he asked.

  He threw the towel into the corner on top of her discarded dress. ‘Let me go,’ she said trying to stop the weapon from shaking in her hand.

  ‘’Kay,’ he said producing a knife from his jeans pocket.

  The line of hair that descended from his navel disappeared into his unbuttoned jeans, and for some reason it occurred to Flick that she hadn’t seen any underwear in the drawer, which meant he couldn’t be wearing any.

  Rushe came toward her with the knife, but her new clarity stuck in a mental groove and with a swift knock on her wrist the gun was gone and somehow in his grip.


  The speed of his manoeuvre left Flick’s head spinning. She sat back on her haunches, somehow not surprised by his surprising action.

  ‘What’s your boyfriend’s name?’ Rushe asked, sticking the gun back in the drawer then buttoning his jeans.

  ‘What?’ she asked. ‘I threaten you with a gun, and that’s your question?’

  ‘You didn’t threaten me, Red,’ he said. ‘You didn’t do much of anything. What’s his name?’

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why would you ask me that?’

  ‘’Cause when we’re through here I’m gonna pay him a visit.’

  ‘A visit? Why would—‘

  ‘He’s got no sense sending his woman out into the world—‘

  ‘His woman?’ she asked.

  ‘You could’ve helped yourself,’ he said. ‘That, with the gun, what was that?’

  ‘I—‘

  ‘You’ve been threatened with sexual and physical harm,’ he said, opening the drawer and pulling out the gun again. He thrust it into her hands and fell to his knees at the side of the bed.

  ‘What are you—‘

  Rushe grabbed the barrel and brought it to his forehead. ‘Shoot,’ he said. ‘Shoot me, take the guys out there by surprise, kill them, find the truck keys, and get the hell out of here.’

  ‘You want me to kill you?’

  ‘When I came through that door you should’ve shot first and asked questions later.’

  ‘But... but I...’ Rushe still held the barrel but the shaking in her hands increased.

  ‘You can’t do it,’ he said shoving the gun aside with disgust. ‘Your life is in danger. You pull the trigger; don’t think about it. Do you know how dangerous the knowledge you’ve just given me is? You can’t defend yourself. I can do whatever the hell I want with you.’

  Snagging a tee-shirt from the drawer, he tossed the gun back to its place. When Rushe put on his shirt Flick was hit with a barb of disappointment that his body was no longer on show for her.

  ‘You’ve been nice to me,’ she whispered and he immediately stopped.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You haven’t threatened me,’ she said. ‘If I shot you I’d lose my only ally here.’

  ‘I’m not your ally,’ he said. ‘I told you not to be a nuisance.’

  When he began to move her hand shot out to catch his jeans pocket, which stalled him. ‘I won’t hurt you,’ she said. ‘You haven’t hurt me.’

  ‘I tied you up.’

  ‘For my own good,’ she said. ‘You said it yourself that your colleagues are out there.’

  ‘If I had stopped you going into that bar—‘

  ‘You blame yourself. That’s why you’ve been looking after me.’

  ‘I told you not to trust anyone.’

  ‘You’ve given me no reason not to trust you,’ she said.

  ‘I woke up this morning molesting you.’

  ‘Is that why you stormed out of here?’ she asked. ‘You were asleep. There was no harm done. I was the one on top of you. Do you want me to apologise?’

  Rushe lunged down to grab her chin and forced her face up to within an inch of his. The manoeuvre stretched her limb sending a stinging pain from her imprisoned wrist up through the rest of her arm.

  ‘What the fuck do I have to do to you? I’m dangerous. You’re in a lot of trouble here, Red. You better watch yourself, or I’ll throw you out there.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t hurt me yourself,’ she said. ‘If you were going to let them have me you’d have done it already... that’s why I trust you.’ Rushe said nothing. ‘Do you know how dangerous the knowledge you’ve just given me is?’

  ‘You’re coming out of here to get some food,’ he said, choosing not to respond to her statement.

  ‘Out?’ she said, tensing and regretting her sass. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t—‘

  ‘You’re not being punished,’ he said. ‘You can’t stay in here. You need to eat... unless you want to starve?’

  ‘Couldn’t you bring something in?’

  ‘I’m no waiter and this is no hotel.’

  Rushe leaned in to slash her restraints. As soon as she was free he hauled her to her feet and unwound the twine. ‘It hurts,’ she said.

  ‘I told you not to fight it,’ he said, chucking the twine to the floor. ‘Why don’t you do what you’re told?’

  ‘I was sleeping.’

  With her in his grip Rushe pulled her to the door. ‘Do not talk to anyone,’ he ordered. ‘You speak only to me and only when spoken to.’

  ‘But—‘

  ‘Consider this free advice that will keep you alive. All of them will touch and taunt. As far as they’re concerned, we’ve been in here all night fucking. You are my bitch.’

  ‘Touch?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re going to eat, sit quietly, and do exactly what you’re told, understand?’

  That might have been a question, but Rushe didn’t wait for a response. He dragged her out of the closest thing she’d had to a safe space in this shack and straight into the lion’s den.

  Starvation was a preferable option when she saw what was outside that bedroom. The space was a tee shape with the long top part fronting the shack. A couch and a pulled out sofa bed were at one side of the space, on the other side was a TV on a cardboard box with a few other chairs next to an empty fireplace.

  Another door stood next to their bedroom one, with another two flanking the other side of the downward part of the tee, which she saw now was a ramshackle kitchen dominated by a central table.

  ‘Breakfast and a show,’ Skeeve said when Rushe nudged her down into a chair. ‘Come sit over here.’ Skeeve pushed away from the table and rubbed his lap.

  Shiv sat at another side of the table with the twitchy kid and the driver in another two places. In the harsh light of day, all four of them appeared pathetic but no less sinister. Flick’s estimations of them didn’t change though the Kid seemed more interested in her today.

  ‘You had your fill yet?’ Shiv asked the room while leering at her chest, though it was covered by Rushe’s shirt.

  ‘It’s hot in here little girl,’ Skeeve smirked. ‘Why don’t you undo a few of those buttons?’

  Shiv sniggered, and the Kid’s eyes flared in hope. Skeeve leaned forward and took hold of her knee. Pulling it aside his other hand groped up her thigh.

  Rushe stood at the kitchen counter with his back to proceedings. Just like he’d said, she was on her own.

  Trying to free herself she pulled away but Shiv lunged forward to grab her shoulders.

  ‘Glen get the shirt!’ Shiv exclaimed and the driver pounced to his feet.

  Without escape, options were bleak but that didn’t mean Flick would give up without a fight. Everyone froze when a deep, rumbling punch of a laugh came from the corner. The men all poised to attack her desisted to slink back and find the source of the single flat note.

  Slowly Rushe turned and flung a jelly sandwich to the table. ‘You lot are some kind of pathetic, you know that? Have you never seen a woman in your life?’

  The men moved back to their seats at the same time Rushe went back to whatever he’d been doing.

  ‘Eat,’ Rushe commanded and Flick figured it was for her, so she snatched up the sandwich he’d chucked down and began to gobble. She knew that her desire to leave the safe bedroom wouldn’t increase, so she might stay put for her next meal... or the next five.

  ‘We need our fun,’ Skeeve said. ‘It’s our turn with the bitch.’

  ‘You don’t touch my stuff and you know it,’ Rushe said. ‘Don’t want your dirty paws on her; god knows what diseases you vermin have.’

  ‘You think she’s lily white?’ Shiv exclaimed. ‘Bet she’s a dirty, little slut.’

  ‘You’re not gonna find that out,’ Rushe said.

  Having practically inhaled the food, Flick only had a few bites left when Rushe stormed to her and yanked her up out of the seat he’d not long ago thrown her into.

  ‘Move,’ Rushe sai
d.

  Flick lost her footing but his grip kept her upright. By the time he got her back to the bedroom he was practically carrying her.

  He banged the door and chucked her down on the bed. The shirt bunched at her waist in her fall, and Flick tugged it down while trying to regain her composure. When she turned, a damp towel landed in her face.

  ‘You’ve got three minutes,’ Rushe stated.

  ‘Three... for what?’

  ‘Move.’

  But she didn’t. ‘Rushe—‘

  ‘If I’ve been fucking you all night you need a shower – move.’

  ‘You’re annoyed,’ she said, casting the towel aside.

  ‘Get up,’ he demanded and reached for her, but Flick pulled away from him.

  ‘You’re really irritated, what upset you?’

  ‘I’m not upset. Men like me don’t get upset. I’m not one of your pretty boys, Red!’

  ‘You’re shouting at me,’ she said, crawling to the edge of the bed and hooking her hand into his jeans pocket to draw him closer. ‘Why are you shouting?’

  ‘Damn you,’ he growled, snatching her arm and pulling her off the bed.

  Flick didn’t have her balance so she collapsed to the floor but Rushe still had her in his grip so he wrenched her up, and while holding the damp towel in one hand he dragged her out of the bedroom.

  He pulled her across the floor and through the door next to theirs. Rushe hurled her forward into a dirty shower stall with a black mildew covered shower curtain. Seconds later a slew of icy water cascaded over her. Flick shrieked while trying to scramble out, but his legs got in her way.

  ‘Do you want me to strip you down and scrub you myself?’ he hollered, and shoved her back under the water using his knee.

  Fumbling her way up the wall, Flick managed to push the wet curtains of her hair out of her eyes. Against the wall she shivered and blinked her webbed lashes at the broad, invincible form of Rushe. A foot higher than her, he blocked her only exit with a hand on either side of the stall.

  The ferocity in his manner was anger and as she stared up into those growling bullet eyes, she realised they hadn’t made direct eye contact until now. Flick knew it because everything about him screamed danger; intimidation radiated off him, and she should be terrified given the circumstances and his stance – but she wasn’t.