by Mari Carr
If Captain America was falling apart, Caden didn’t stand a chance. “I can’t keep sitting here, doing nothing.”
“And what the hell would you do, Cade?” Weston asked. “We have no idea where they are or how to find them. We have to trust that Devon’s connections will give us somewhere to start.”
“It’s the Hancocks.” Caden had never been more certain of anything, but without proof, the others refused to act. Of course, it didn’t help that the Hancocks had at least three residences on the East Coast where they could have taken Rose and Tess, and that Weston had argued—wisely—there was no way they’d take two kidnapped women back to their own home.
Which meant they were hiding them God only knew where.
“I can’t lose her,” Caden muttered.
“We’re not going to lose her, Cade. That’s not an option. We’re going to keep our heads and do whatever it takes.”
Caden knew Isaiah meant his words as comfort, but his rage wasn’t reacting well to Isaiah’s steadiness. He clenched his fists, eyeing the wall. He wouldn’t mind a few busted knuckles if it distracted him from the pain in his chest.
Devon walked in and all four men stood from the table, Marek with a bit of support from Weston.
“What did you find out?” Isaiah asked, betraying the first sign of genuine fear. Caden unclenched his hand and placed it on his partner’s shoulder.
“I was able to trace the path of the vehicle by use of security cameras on the businesses in that part of the city. Got it all the way to the highway. Then I was able to track it nearly forty miles down the MA-3, thanks to traffic cams. Got off at the exit for US-6. That’s when I lost it.”
“US-6 leads to Cape Cod,” Caden said.
“What about LoJack?” Isaiah asked. “It’s a rental car, right?”
“Yes, and I’m working on getting it turned on, but there’s paperwork even I can’t circumvent.”
“Cape Cod,” Caden prompted.
Devon nodded. “Yeah. I did some digging through the Hancocks’ real estate records. You couldn’t believe how many properties—business and residential—they own. Six in just the Cape Cod area. Then I dug even deeper and found a dummy corporation owned by Priscilla Armstrong, and came across a listing for an abandoned warehouse in Provincetown.”
“Let me guess,” Isaiah said. “Priscilla Armstrong is Mrs. Hancock?”
“Yeah. Her maiden name. For some reason, she’s keeping quite a lot of her dealings separate from her husband.”
“To hide them from him or the government because they’re shady as hell?” Caden asked.
Devon shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. It wasn’t easy finding that warehouse. If the Hancocks really did take Tess and Rose, my gut says we’ll find them there. I looked at a satellite map of the area. It’s in the middle of nowhere.”
“Then that’s where we’re going.” Caden started for the door, but Devon blocked it.
“Slow down, hotshot. We can’t go in there, guns blazing. Rose and Tess could get hurt.”
“We’re three hours away, Devon. We have plenty of time to plan.”
“Actually,” Devon said with a smile. “Don’t you own your own private plane?”
Caden nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then we’re closer than you think. Just so happens there’s a municipal airport in Provincetown. Twenty-minute flight from Boston.”
Caden felt the overwhelming—and slightly disturbing—desire to kiss Devon. “Thank God,” he said, reaching into this pocket for his phone. “Let me make a call. Then we’re making a plan.”
Chapter Twenty
“I’m so glad you girls could stop by for a visit.”
In any other situation in the world, that comment would have been innocuous and friendly. However, given Priscilla’s outfit and the fact she’d drugged, kidnapped, and tied them up, it was probably one of the most preposterous things Tess had ever heard in her life.
Priscilla snapped her fingers, and a huge hulk of a man entered the room with another chair, this one cushioned, more ornate, decidedly out of place. He placed it between her and Rose off to the side, then she gestured toward Rose and Tess.
The man spun Tess’ chair around before doing the same to Rose’s. The two women shared a quick look before glancing Priscilla’s way.
“Hello, Mommie Dearest,” Rose said in a voice that had Tess’ respect for the woman skyrocketing. There wasn’t a twinge of fear in it.
Priscilla lifted her free hand and slapped Rose so hard, Tess felt it. She winced, worried about the other woman, until Rose blinked a couple of times, shook it off, then lifted unimpressed eyes toward their captor.
Tess started to fear for Priscilla’s sanity when the older woman leaned toward Rose, cupping the cheek she’d just struck. “Such a brave girl. You’re so much like your mother in that regard. She was the same, dauntless until the last. Now, stop talking or I’ll have to gag you.”
Again, Priscilla lifted her hand, and this time the hulk disappeared into the shadows for a few moments before returning with a small table and a box. He set the box on the table and lifted the lid, revealing all sorts of terrifying things Tess didn’t even want to guess the purpose of.
Priscilla lifted a ball gag out and waved it as a way of solidifying her threat. “Good boy, Giles.” She briefly nodded her head in Tess’ direction, and the hulk moved closer, reaching down to rip her blouse open.
Tess gasped in shock, but Giles didn’t do anything else. He merely stepped back to Priscilla’s side. The woman’s smile was pure evil and—frankly—more terrifying than Giles.
“Giles likes to play with his food,” Priscilla joked. “I’ve promised him that once I’m finished here, he can have you. He’s been thirsting for revenge ever since you thwarted his attempt to kill you at Monticello. I had to punish him that night for failing me.”
Tess took a closer look at the hulk. He was the driver they’d seen outside the library. Obviously, Giles had been following them. He’d knocked Caden out and stolen the journal, and he’d hit her with the car.
Giles cracked his knuckles. His hands were huge.
The woman wanted a reaction, thrived on fear. Tess glanced in Rose’s direction. Rose wasn’t afraid. Instead, she looked slightly annoyed.
Bodies heal. You’d be surprised what you can survive.
Tess swallowed down her fear, buried it somewhere deep. When she spoke, her tone was pure sarcasm. Caden would have been proud. “Oh? Was that your town car? Hope I left a nice dent in it for you. Maybe a few scratches to remember me by.”
Priscilla frowned, then jerked her head toward Giles once more.
Suddenly Tess was sorry she’d tried to play with the rattlesnake. Unlike Priscilla, Giles used the back of his hand when he hit her. It felt as if her head spun almost completely around, a full one-eighty, and her vision went gray.
Priscilla waited until Tess shook off the stinging pain and lifted her head once more before speaking again. “I might have to reconsider my offer. Perhaps I’ll play with you, instead.”
Tess forced herself to stare only at Rose. At this point, it was only the other woman’s presence that was bolstering her strength, giving her courage.
She grinned, her response no doubt confusing Priscilla. Tess didn’t bother to conceal it as she looked at Rose in amazement. Somehow Rose had managed to adopt a pose of outright boredom, raising her eyebrow in a total whatever manner.
“I want to thank the two of you for finding and retrieving the Hancock safe for me,” Priscilla began. “And, of course, your dear mother’s diary was a fun read.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed angrily, for just a split second, before she reined her emotions back in. Unfortunately, Tess wasn’t the only one to catch her response. Priscilla did as well, and she took great delight in touching a nerve.
“It was so very informative, you see.” Priscilla snapped her fingers and once again, the hulk was there with Tallulah’s diary. He handed it to Priscilla, who did
n’t bother to open it. “Your mother was a fool like you. She thought she could outsmart me, take what was mine without repercussions.”
Tess took her lead from Rose, remaining silent despite the millions of questions flying around in her head. Neither of them needed to ask anything. It was as if Priscilla had spent years waiting to brag about what she’d done.
Priscilla leaned back, as regal and relaxed as a queen on her throne. “No one takes anything away from an Armstrong.”
“Tired of the Hancock name?” Rose asked drolly.
Priscilla studied Rose for a moment. “You really are very much like your mother. She thought she could hide you from me, protect you. They both did.”
Rose frowned. “They?”
Tess could see Rose’s regret the second she asked the question.
Priscilla’s smile grew bigger. “Turn on the lights, Giles.”
Tess had almost forgotten about the groan they’d heard earlier. Whoever had let it slip had been absolutely silent since then.
Giles turned on an entire bank of lights, illuminating what appeared to have been a warehouse at some point. Tess’ blood turned cold as she took in the renovations. The entire place was like something out of a BDSM horror movie. Chains hung from the ceiling, while one whole wall was covered with whips, crops, leather straps, and some sort of metal poles that looked like cattle prods. There were padded and wooden benches and scary-looking bondage chairs and even a swing, all scattered around the room.
However, the most shocking thing was the St. Andrew’s cross on the wall to her right. Not the cross actually, but who was hanging from it.
Senator Jayce Hancock was completely naked and strapped spread eagle facing them. His head was bowed, his eyes lowered. He never looked their direction and Tess could almost touch his fear.
While she didn’t want to stare, she couldn’t force herself to look away from the bottom half of his body. There was something attached to the base of his penis and wrapped around his balls. It was a leather circle like a small belt or collar with silver spikes that faced inward. The tips of the spikes were digging into his skin, weights dangling from the bottom of the circle of leather.
Then Tess understood his silence as she saw the bottom half of his face covered by some sort of strange gag. She glanced in Rose’s direction, her confused expression giving her away.
Rose blew out a long, tired breath. “Cock and ball torture. Penis gag,” she explained as she shook her head. “I’m going to need so much therapy after this.”
Tess could only begin to imagine. The senator was Rose’s dad. Tess never wanted to see her father naked, bound to a cross, subjected to…whatever that was hanging from his balls, and Jesus, was there really such a thing as a penis gag?
Tess was going to need therapy, and she even wasn’t a blood relative.
“Tallie’s diary was quite illuminating, Jayce. Or should I call you John?”
Mr. Hancock lifted his head at that, his eyes almost pleading.
“You were having an affair with her.”
Rose scoffed. “With his own wife? The three of you were a trinity. That’s not cheating.”
Priscilla slapped Rose again, harder this time. Tess watched in amazement as the other woman shook it off as if it was nothing. She tried not to think about how Rose had acquired such a high tolerance for pain.
“The ideals of our secret society, set forth by the founding fathers, were quite simple. The Trinity Masters are there to control society, to manage the wealth, to make sure those with intelligence, courage, and drive remain in power, on top. Jayce was a successful lawyer when we were bound at the altar, with a budding career in politics. Without me, he wouldn’t be where he is today.”
“Strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross?” Rose muttered.
Tess breathed out a quick laugh, unable to hold it back. They were well and truly fucked, so the humor felt completely out of place…and much needed.
Priscilla’s eyes narrowed as she looked back toward Giles.
Tess instantly regretted her actions when the ham-fisted giant tugged her bra down, exposing her breasts. He pinched her nipples painfully, roughly, as Tess tried to twist away from him, hating the weak cries pouring from her.
“Enough,” Priscilla said.
Giles released her and stepped away once more. Tess squeezed her eyes closed, trying to stem the tears. When she opened them again, she saw Rose, watched as she mouthed the word, “breathe.”
Tess sucked in and out, in and out, never taking her gaze from Rose’s face, drawing on her strength.
“Jackson! Royce! Come in here.”
Two more men moved into the room from the door where Priscilla had emerged.
“Yes, Mistress,” they said in almost perfect unison.
“Cut their clothing off.”
Tess started to fight against the rope, the rough cord cutting her skin. She didn’t care. She didn’t want anyone in this room touching her. Her struggles stilled when one of the men pulled out a very nasty-looking, very sharp knife. She barely breathed as he sliced through her blouse and bra, then her jeans and panties, the blade cutting the material away as if it were made of soft butter.
Tess didn’t need a mirror to know she was flushing bright red. Apparently, her male captors found her blushing amusing, one of them muttering something about her innocence. Rose appeared undaunted, almost at ease with her nudity. If Priscilla had meant to rob them of their clothing in an attempt to embarrass or weaken them, it was obviously only working with Tess.
Priscilla ignored their opposite reactions, looking at her husband once more. “The concept of a triad is an archaic one. And while I will admit it can sometimes help us achieve our goals—the Andersons are a good example of that—it can hinder us as well. The internet was the stuff of science fiction two hundred years ago. Today, we all live under a microscope. Jayce is going to be President of the United States one day. And as everyone knows, there can only be one First Lady. Tallie was an obstacle, one I thought we’d easily discarded. She lived separately, continued her research, and when it was necessary, we put on a good face for the Grand Master. Then the stupid woman got pregnant.” Priscilla lifted the diary toward Jayce. “With your baby! You were in love with her!”
The words were spoken with so much hate, Tess feared for the senator’s safety. Given the way he fought against the chains binding him to the cross, Jayce knew he was in trouble too.
Rose didn’t bother to shield her outright shock. “You didn’t think I was his?”
“Your mother said it was an accident, that she’d had a brief affair. We had no choice but to accept her bastard child into our lives. After all, the Trinity Masters believed we were living in a true triad. Then we struck the deal with the old Grand Master, set up that betrothal. It gave me great pleasure to hand you over to the Andersons, knowing that Elroy and Caden would break you, destroy you, train you for me. I didn’t realize the sons would step in and ruin my plans for creating the perfect little submissive.”
“They trained me for you?” Rose asked.
“Of course they did, you stupid little fool. Think of it. My submissive, married to the sister of the Grand Master and that ignorant boy, Devon.”
“Lovely,” Rose muttered. “You’ve been setting up shadow governments.”
“I would have had influence, power, a place at the table with the Grand Master and the President of the United States.”
Holy shit, Tess mouthed to Rose.
“And now it’s all ruined.” Priscilla pointed at Rose, but her furious rage was directed solely at her husband. “This whore is your daughter!”
Rose raised one brow. “You’re the one wearing the cheap faux-leather dominatrix suit.”
Priscilla twisted, leaning down until her face was inches from Rose’s. “I’m going to kill you, Rose. The same way I killed your mother. I’m going to chop you up in little pieces, then take you out to sea and feed you to the sharks. You’re fish bait, nothing else. Gag her,
Jackson. The next time she speaks, she’ll be begging for mercy.”
Jackson picked up the ball gag and stepped behind Rose. Tess expected her to fight, but instead she opened her mouth, accepting the gag. Jackson looked disappointed that she hadn’t fought, so he yanked her hair once it was in place.
Rose heaved her shoulders in a bored sigh, she looked at Priscilla and raised a brow, as if to say what’s next. Priscilla sneered and turned to walk toward her husband.
“You’re a weak, spineless, romantic fool. You hid Tallie in that inn, got her pregnant, gave her that artwork as a gift rather than sell it to our buyer. You gave that safe to her, not me. You knew I wanted to open it, wanted to see what your ancestors thought was so important that they’d protected it for centuries. But you took it away. And gave it to her!”
She reached up and pulled the gag out of Jayce’s mouth. He gasped loudly, sucking in air.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
The senator’s voice was weak, hoarse, when he said, “Please forgive me, Mistress.”
Tess’ jaw dropped. What the fuck was that? He was asking for forgiveness. “Are you nuts?” Tess asked, catching sight of Rose desperately shaking her head too late to consider her actions.
Priscilla didn’t even look in her direction. “Untie her, Giles, and bring her over here. I want our little innocent to have a good view of the show. I might even let her play.”
Giles pulled a wicked-looking knife from the sheath on his belt that Tess had seen, but tried to ignore. He cut her ankles free from the legs of the chair, then grabbed her upper arm, drawing her up. Her arms were still bound tightly behind her back. It occurred to her, as he dragged her across the room, that she’d actually felt safer in the chair than she did now, on her feet. She glanced longingly toward the still open doorway. It might as well be a thousand miles away.
Then she saw it. A shadow moving in the other room.
She glanced away quickly, not wanting to draw attention to her first glimmer of true hope.
