Saving Olivia (Team Cereberus Book 1)

by Melissa Kay Clarke

  "Wait, what do you mean she's 'funding our fishing trip'?" Cowboy made air quotes with his fingers.

  River laughed at the shocked look their faces. "I mean she's backing it. Look, one thing I learned in the time I've been lucky enough to call that woman mine is not to argue with her when she sets her mind to something. We had already decided to stay in town for a few more days, and I woke up this morning to her dropping my bag on the bed and telling me not to get dead. The woman is uncanny in knowing what's going through my mind - I was going to discuss it with her today and damned if she didn't beat me to the punch. So here I am."

  "You're one lucky S.O.B., River." Finch shook his head with laughter. "That's an amazing woman you have there."

  "Don't I know it. Smart, beautiful and talented as hell. Her books stay on top of the lists. She has studios begging for movie rights and through it all, she just does her thing as if nothing phases her. Then again, I suppose after being stalked by a serial killer/rapist, it takes a lot to shake her. Anyway, enough about my incredible wife. We have a flight leaving for Suriname in two hours. There will be a charter boat waiting for us in Paramaribo, fully stocked with all our favorite... uh, lures and tackle."

  "How... when... we just found out we were going ourselves less than an hour ago!" Toad wrinkled his nose in confusion.

  "Digger." Railroad exclaimed. "It had to be him."

  River winked and placed a finger on his nose. "It's ten hours to Paramaribo; plenty of time to get our plans together. By then our friendly neighborhood data tech should have more information on where we should concentrate." He tossed his duffle in the back of Bruiser's SUV.

  Bruiser squeezed River's shoulder gratefully. "Thanks."

  "You'd do the same for me." River replied before turning to the others. "What are you waiting on? Engraved invitations? Move it, people! We have a plane to catch."

  Chapter 22

  "Sister Olivia?"

  The sound of Mishi whispering her name drew Livy out of sleep and back into the regular world. Bolting upright, she almost hit the smaller woman's face with her head. Blinking slowly, she noticed the first blush of sunrise painting the room in shades of peach, red and purple. Falling back to the bed, she groaned as every muscle ached and throbbed. "What, Mishi?" she asked a bit harshly.

  "Sister Olivia, we must be in the training room before the sun touches the horizon. You'll be in trouble."

  "So what? Go away Mishi. I'm too tired to get up."

  "But, Sister Olivia..."

  "I said go away!" Livy threw a pillow at the irritating woman. A moment later, she heard the door close. Good. She was finally alone. Livy rolled over and forced her muscles to relax. Training room? Mishi meant 'torture chamber.' Yesterday, Olivia had been pulled unceremoniously from her bed by Hans, tossed a pair of shorts and a tank top in the required yellow and dragged down the stairs to the training room. It was a massive room, with no windows and only the one entrance. To one side was a full gym containing various exercise machines, all top of the line and expensive. A massive white board hung on one wall and upon it was written the women's names followed by a list of exercises. The other side of the room contained a row of cages only large enough for a person to sit or curl up in. Behind them was another door. It was locked tightly with no visible handle. Something told her she did not want to know what was beyond it.

  At first, Olivia had balked at the exercise regime plastered on the wall. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head as the other three women began their workouts. "I had enough of being told what and when to do things when I was in the service. Yeah, thanks, but no thanks."

  She would never have guessed a man as large as Hans could be so quick. One moment, Olivia stood defiantly glaring at him and the next she was bent over with his fist dug into her hair, and being walked to the treadmill. Once she stepped on it, he leaned closer and hissed into her ear in his thick broken accent. "You obey or your pay. The Meester not like his pretties all broken, but there are other ways to hurt that will never be seen."

  When he let her hair go, she immediately kicked out with one foot. The blow was a bit low and to the side, for she hit his muscular thigh with her heel instead of the intended target at the juncture of his legs. Instead of upsetting him, it seemed to make him happier, as he again snatched a handful of her brown curls and pulled her head back. Grabbing both wrists in one meaty paw, he pulled her off the treadmill and spun her around.

  Franz stood there with a smirk on his face. "Thank you for being difficult," he barked. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a pocket knife and quickly sliced through her clothes. He pulled them from her body, leaving her in only shoes, socks and a thin pair of panties. He leered as he reached over and groped her breast, squeezing painfully until she yelped and twisted.

  "They always fight." Hans laughed maniacally as he pulled her twisting form against his body. She stilled when his arousal poked her in her lower back. "Please, fight more for me," he whispered into her ear.

  In her panic, Olivia caught a movement behind Franz and saw Mishi's pale face. Quickly, Mishi shook her head and mouthed the words don't fight. Franz must have caught Olivia's eye movement, for he whirled around and stared at the three women on their exercise machines. All three had their eyes downcast as they continued their workouts. Livy wouldn't get any help from them. Not that she blamed them.

  Realizing that sometimes it was better to retreat, Olivia went limp and bit the inside of her mouth to keep from screaming at the two men. They seemed to understand her surrender and with an exasperated snarl, took her back to the treadmill and dumped her upon the surface. As she stood, Franz poked a few buttons, and she had to move to avoid falling on her face when the track whirled. Hans stayed behind her, blocking her into the machine so she couldn't leave. It was humiliating to exercise on the treadmill wearing only shoes and a pair of panties. Her face turned a bright red from mortification and anger. They were taking everything from her. Her freedom, humility, and even her sense of decency. She narrowed her lips in determination. They wouldn't take her spirit. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction to see her broken.

  The pace started out with a brisk walk for several moments then increase to a slow run that morphed into a sprint. As Livy ran, the men laughed and made bets on how long she would be able to keep up the pace. Course comments flew as they took turns pinching, groping and squeezing her in different places. When she got a stitch in her side, her steps faltered, and she slammed into Hans' body behind her. He pushed her roughly until she increased her pace and regained her spot in the middle.

  This game of theirs continued for several minutes until they grew tired of their sport and took her to another machine. As before, she was put through a grueling pace and when slowed, was rewarded with fondles and gropes of her naked body. She saw the other three women complete their routines and exit the room. Still, the two men kept her going through the various machines until she dry heaved and refused to move no matter how they taunted her. At that point, she was forced into one of the cramped cages and left for hours with only a couple of bottles of water. At midnight, she had been escorted back to her room and locked in. Even then, Livy refused to let the tears fall. She would be damned before she let them see how the treatment affected her. She would show them. She was strong, and she would triumph.

  Freezing water dumped on her brought her back to wakefulness. With a hiss, she jumped out of bed, pulling ice cubes out of her shirt and dropping them to the floor beneath her. "What the hell?" she sputtered through chattering teeth.

  "The Meester wants you," Franz dropped a bowl onto her bed.

  At the door, Hans was doubled over laughing. "Come, girl," he wheezed out between gales of laughter. "You look like wet chicken," he finished as he wiped his eyes.

  Olivia stomped off to the closet and threw the door open. Immediately, Franz slammed it shut. "Now." He grabbed for her head, but she was able to duck out of his grasp.

  "I'm not going anywhere without cha
nging my clothes," she snarled and turned back to the closet.

  A beefy arm circled her waist. She kicked at Franz and fought in an attempt to pull herself from his clutches. Instead of letting her go, he hugged her tighter then grasped her neck in his palm and squeezed. Immediately she stilled. He whispered into her ear. "When you fight, my blood boils." As if to prove the point, he ground his crotch into her hip. "Little Catori no longer fights. She lays like a dead fish. There is no fun with dead fish. Rana is Meester's favorite, so we do not touch. Misha is too small. She bleeds. But you will be like plump grape, ripe and juicy. When he grows weary of your little tempers, he will let my brother and I have fun." He drew his tongue along the side of her face and growled softly before biting her earlobe painfully. "I will show you the playroom. We will have such times as you have never known. Meester is too careful with the girls, but I have found ways to make screams without marking." He adjusted his hand until it splayed across her stomach. Quickly, he thrust it against her pajama shorts and wedged it between her clamped thighs. She felt him grope her and shuddered with revulsion. She fought the urge to scream again, and he laughed.

  "Meester waits," Hans said quietly from where he leaned against the door frame.

  "Meester waits," Franz mimicked with a snarl, but pulled his hand out from between her thighs and pushed her toward the door. Olivia stumbled as Hans caught her. Looking back, she shuddered when Franz gave her an evil leer. "We will play when Meester is gone."

  The two men escorted her through the sprawling house to a wing she had not seen before. She had not had much access to the building though so she was not surprised. Hans knocked on one of the beautiful wooden doors, and a masculine voice called out, "Invoeren." Hans opened the door, and Franz pushed her through.

  The room was massive. Paneled in what looked like rich mahogany with silver inserts and accents, it was decisively masculine. The floor underneath was of the same wood in square tiles with alternating grain. One of the walls contained floor to ceiling shelves lined with books that wrapped around to snuggle the door they had entered. The final wall was of tinted glass overlooking a bayou of water with the remnants of old trees breaking the surface. A mist crawled across the landscape and curled tendrils around the forgotten tree trunks. It was breathtaking, and she couldn't imagine how much this one room cost, much less the entire house and island they were now occupying.

  An enormous desk sat in front of the window. Of course, this piece of furniture was also impressive and obviously very expensive. It was made of ebony wood and had been waxed to a high sheen until the objects on the surface reflected in its depths.

  Sitting behind the desk, Meester De Jääger perused a file. He didn't acknowledge her existence, which unnerved her and left her fidgeting as the occasional plop of water from her body hit the floor. After several minutes of being ignored, she cleared her throat. When that didn't garner any attention, she tried again, this time louder. Silence. The third time, she piped up, "You wanted to see me?"

  Without taking his eyes from the page he was reading, De Jääger lifted one hand in the air and snapped his fingers. Behind her, one of the men took a step forward and wrapped one arm around her chest and his other hand around her face, covering her mouth. She flailed against him, but he pulled tighter until one of his fingers snuggled underneath her nose, blocking off most of her air. She fought harder, screaming behind his palm until black spots danced before her eyes. Sucking in the minuscule amount of air she could into her starved lungs, she felt her limbs become heavy, and her eyes closed. With one last feeble slap at the arm pinned to her chest, her knees gave way, and she would have fallen if not for the man holding her up.

  "Enough."

  The hand withdrew from her face, and she was vaguely aware of gulping air. When her vision cleared, she was startled to see Meester standing before her, his hands behind his back. He chuckled when she glared belligerently at him.

  "Americans. So unwilling to see the truth surrounding them." De Jääger reached out and grasped her chin in his fingers. She batted and attempted to pull back. He pinched harder until she was sure there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers in the morning. When she stopped fighting, he chortled.

  “I saw the wedding ring. What does your wife think of all this?” Livy growled at him.

  He threw his head and laughed loudly. “I don’t have a wife. Why would I want to tie myself to one woman and treat her as an equal when it is so much more fun to play with many toys.” He lifted his left hand to show the bare finger where a golden band once sat. “I wear a ring when it suits me. A married man is much less likely to garner unwanted attention.” He nodded towards the men behind her.

  Once again, hands were holding her body. It must have been Franz because Hans stepped up to her with a maniacal grin on his face. In his hands, he held something black looking like a circle of wide netting made of faceted stones. Her brow wrinkled as she recognized it as the same necklace that both Mishi and Catori wore.

  Franz sunk his fingers into her hair and pulled her head upwards. Each time she moved, it felt as if her hair was yanked from her scalp. She stilled, raising up on her tiptoes to get a little relief from the stinging pain. De Jääger took that opportunity to take the necklace from Hans and place it around her neck. Realization dawned on her. This was no ordinary necklace, but rather a collar used to control a human. She flailed again, but it did no good. She went limp against Franz as De Jääger took out a small tool, fitted it to the side and twisted, tightening the collar on her neck. She felt several places jab and poke mercilessly. With one more twist, she heard a click, and the uncomfortable poking became a sharp sting. She yelped. De Jääger stepped back with a satisfied smirk. Hans let her go, and she backed away, one hand going to the collar around her neck. She shook her head. Panic rose as she tried to pull it away from her skin. It remained there, despite her best attempt at dislodging it. She felt around the circumference; her fingers found only the strong strands covered in gems and one tiny indention. It was too small for her to fit her fingers.

  Dropping her hands in defeat, she glared at Meester. "Get this thing off me."

  De Jääger shook his head sadly. "I've given you time to get accustomed to your new reality, but I see I must be blunt." He gestured to the room. "I enjoy being surrounded by beautiful things and will pay handsomely for those things I want. Perhaps I may be considered spoiled, but that is one benefit of being a multi-billionaire. I can afford to be spoiled."

  He took a couple of steps back and leaned against his desk. "When I see something I want, I buy it. This is true for real estate, furniture, and anything else that catches my eye. Much like you did on the airplane to San Diego. Normally, I don't take commercial flights, but sometimes it's necessary. Perhaps it was karma that allowed me an unfettered view of your seat between the curtains separating first class from coach." De Jääger shrugged. "Either way, I was able to observe you for the entire flight, and as each moment slipped by, I knew I must have you. It would have been easier if you had taken my offer for a ride, but you refused. It didn't matter. I had your name and several pictures of you on my cell phone. After that, it was a matter of time for Mr. Jacobson to find and procure you for me.” He paused a moment as pride filled his face. “I must say, you are one of my more beautiful possessions."

  "I am not your possession. I don't belong to you or anyone else." Whirling around, Livy grabbed a book from the shelf. She drew it back and prepared to let it fly. Instead, it fell from her hands as pain, more intense than anything she had ever felt before slammed into her body. Every muscle clenched and she dropped to the floor as the shock of electrical currents pulsed through her body. It felt as if the skin around her neck was on fire and electricity radiated from it to every nerve down to her fingertips and toes. Once again she found breathing to be difficult.

  As quickly as the pain had arrived, it receded. Lying on the floor, twitching, she managed to pry her eyes open and look at the man standing over her with a
small square object in his fingers.

  "Control, Olivia." De Jääger lifted the object and waved it in the air. "If you want to survive this, you will learn one, simple fact. Control is what powers this world. It affects every facet of our lives. Who has control and who doesn't. Those who have it make the rules. Those who don't must follow. You have no control. What you just encountered was only a small taste of the control I have over you. That was only mid-level, perhaps a five out of ten." He touched the object and pressed a thumb against the surface. An uncomfortable tingle radiated from her neck but not enough to make her muscles clench. It stopped after a few moments. "That was level one." He touched the control again and looked down at her. "I've changed it to level eight, which will most likely render you unconscious if left on for more than a few seconds. Ten will damage your heart and nervous system; it'll lead to eventual death." The look in his eyes told her he knew this from experience. Her thoughts turned to something Mishi said about how there were once others. She shuddered at the implications.

  Livy was not prepared for the overwhelming agony delivered to her system when he activated the collar on its new setting. She could not breathe or even think. Only white-hot agony encompassed her and squeezed her tightly in its grasp. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened and bulged until she was afraid her clenched muscles would suffocate her.

  The pain trickled away this time instead of disappearing, leaving lethargy and aching muscles. Her nerves still sizzled, and every breath took a concentrated effort. If this were only eight, then ten would, indeed, be lethal. Now she would have to get away sooner rather than later. She would have to be sure of her timing, for she knew she wouldn't survive if she were caught.

  De Jääger must have seen something in her eyes, for he frowned. "No, you can't escape. My home is remote, virtually inaccessible. The walls surrounding the estate contain sensors that feed back to the central containment system. If you step within a meter of the wall, it will activate the collar. If you move beyond the wall, for every meter you distance yourself, the level will increase. Only returning to the interior will stop the pain. If you have ideas of enduring to get out of range, be aware, there are redundant systems in the rainforest as well as satellite links. The strands are made of a magnesium alloy stronger than steel or even titanium or tungsten. It cannot be cut away. Only my key can open the lock." He stopped and rocked onto his heels. "I protect my possessions jealously."