I swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat, but I can’t hold back the natural flinch of my body as his hand finds my mound and his bare cock presses hard against my ass. He notices my reaction but doesn’t pull away.
“Tsk, tsk,” he whispers as his fingers caress my skin. I clamp my legs together, refusing him any further access to me.” Do you think you can deny me, Angel?”
I whimper as his firm hands grip my legs, ripping them apart with so much force I know he’s left another mark on my body. He flips me onto my back and lifts his body to settle in between my legs. He presses hard against me, careful to place himself against my core. I cry out, fearful of the next moment, sure he’s going to prove to me right now just how much fight I have in me to deny him what he wants.
“Please, Jerry,” I sob, remembering to use the name he told me to last night. I twist my head to the side, looking away from him because I can’t bear to see him. I don’t want to know the monster he is, because it will make the moment too real, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to cope with it. He grips my chin, forcing my face to look at him, but I squeeze my eyes closed. I feel fresh tears fall from the corners of my eyes. “Don’t do this.”
“That’s precious, Angel,” he chuckles darkly, digging his fingers into my face. I feel the wet of his tongue as it touches my cheek, tasting my tears.” But not even Jerry can save you from me.”
I freeze, his words penetrating my brain in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Not when there is nothing shielding him from having what he wants most from me. I slowly open my eyes, holding my breath as I do, but what I find staring back at me knocks the air from my lungs.
It’s not Nolan, nor is it Jerry. Whoever it is sure looks like them, though, but a dawning realization spreads through me.
He isn’t going to rape me.
That’s not what he wants.
Unknown Persona
She is fucking gorgeous,
with absolute fear in her eyes.
I put it there.
I put it there,
and I fucking love it.
I need more.
“Who are you?” she asks, her voice so small, so afraid.
The salt of her tears,
on my tongue,
makes me so hard I’m tempted to slip into her.
But I don’t…
…the moment has already started to fade,
and realization crosses her face.
“Nolan?”
“Try again,” I surge against her, feeling the heat of her core against the steel rod of my cock.
She tilts her head,
studying me closely,
trying to figure me out.
But she can’t.
She won’t.
I’m good at this game.
I’m a fucking rock star.
“You’re not Jerry, either.”
“One point to tie it up.”
“Tell me your name.”
“Only if you give me what I want the most.” I surge my hips against her, leaving her to guess my intentions, but she doesn’t flinch.
“You don’t want that.”
“If you’re such a clever girl, tell me what I want.”
“Fear. You want me to be afraid of you.”
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
How?
How can she know?
I push away from her, standing quickly to cross the room.
I’ll show this bitch.
She thinks she knows…
…but she doesn’t.
She doesn’t know shit.
She doesn’t know me.
She doesn’t know what I want.
Missy
I watch him cross the room, muttering angrily to himself.
This sudden shift in his persona has given me all the insight into what is going on with him now. It’s confirmed my suspicions and actually calmed my fears. He’s not in his right mind, because his mind is not his own at the moment.
“Tell me your name.” I sit up from my spot on the makeshift bed, pulling the itchy blankets up to cover my nakedness.
“Give me your fear,” he spits, spinning around to face me. I notice a flash of metal in his hand as he takes a step toward me, but something in me finally snaps. This persona, whoever he is, cannot harm me. He wants to. I can see it deep in his eyes, but something stops him from doing so. Maybe it’s the other person named Jerry or even Nolan himself.
“Tell me your name,” I state, feeling a little more authoritative with him.
“Fuck you, bitch.” He flicks his wrist, revealing the steak knife from our dinner the night before, but I square my shoulders, sure in my belief that he cannot harm me.
“You won’t harm me. They won’t let you.”
He tilts his head with interest and smiles coyly.
“Who won’t let me?”
“Jerry. Nolan. Whoever else hides behind those dark eyes. They won’t let you hurt me.”
“You seem very sure about that.” He takes another step toward me, but it’s all for show. I’m so sure of it, I swing my legs off the bed and stand up, quickly closing the distance between us. I even go so far as to reach for his hand holding the knife and place it against my chest.
“Prove me wrong.”
His eyes flick down to the spot where the blade touches my skin, and I see the desire to plunge the blade into my chest. I see the lust for my blood, but I also see the internal fight taking place between him and the others. The longer he stares, the harder he fights for control. His entire body shakes from the force of what is taking place in his mind.
In the blink of an eye, the blade is no longer pressed against my skin, but his hand is around my neck and my back is pressed against the wall. His face transforms before me, and I know the one person who can hurt me has made his return. I reach for his hand at my throat as he tightens his hold, squeezing the life out of me.
“Did you miss me, Angel? Is that why you pushed Tommy so hard? My pretty girl needs to learn very quickly here. We aren’t someone she wants to fuck with,” he spits in my face, and I claw at his death grip on my throat. Blackness seeps in my vision and the world around me begins to fade.
“He might not be able to hurt you, Angel, but that doesn’t mean I can’t!” he yells in my face as the darkness succumbs and I pass out.
Chapter Forty
Throwing a Bone
Kingston
“Someone tell me we have something on this asshole.” I open the door to the conference room, making eye contact with everyone in the room. No one is quick to speak up. “Don’t everyone speak up at once.”
“His mother has no idea where he is; in fact, she hasn’t seen him at all,” Hudson offers, hanging up the phone he was just barking into. “Which isn’t out of the ordinary for him, not since his miraculous recovery.”
“All the connections, the possible sources we have, and this is all anyone has to report?” The others remain quiet, staring up at me with blank eyes. “How is that possible? He’s lived in this town his whole life. Surely, someone knows where he could be.”
“That’s what has us all scratching our head, brother,” Hudson speaks up again. “It’s like he doesn’t exist beyond the multitude of emergency room visits we were able to access through his hospital records. The nurses we’ve spoken with all tell the same story. He only came in on the nights Missy worked, and he always insisted she be his nurse. No one thought anything of it, because he always seemed so normal and grateful of the part she played in saving his life.”
“There has to be something. Does he own a car? A house? What about financial records? There has to be something we can go off.”
“He drives a black Nova and we’ve got a call in with the DMV for plate numbers.” Annabelle crosses the room toward me. She looks exhausted; in fact, as I gaze around the room, I notice they all look tired.
I sigh, raking my hand through my hair. I know I’m being hard on them, but th
ey didn’t see the state Nolan’s last victim lay in, and my description of said victim was nowhere near close enough to the truth.
“Guys, I know I’m asking a lot, but the more time passes, the less of a chance we have of going to get her back in one piece.”
“We want her back, too,” Alice’s soft voice drifts across the room, and I look over at her. I watch a fresh batch of tears fall from her eyes and realize it wasn’t long ago that she was in a similar situation. Hudson moves toward her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, but she maintains eye contact with me. “She’s strong. She’s a fighter. She will come home to us.”
I hang my head, praying she’s right and Missy’s resilience and strength work in our favor.
Missy
My eyes flutter open and my lungs drag in a burning breath of oxygen into my chest. A foot lands itself hard into my stomach and the air I just sucked in expels quickly from my body. I gasp, but nothing fills my lungs, nothing but pain throughout my body.
“Angel, you need to learn a lesson here, and you need to learn it quickly.” Nolan’s deep voice fills the deafening silence surrounding me. Only it isn’t as silent as I believed, not with the huffing and puffing of the man hovering above me. The pain I’m feeling tells me this wasn’t the first blow I received during my unconscious state. “You. Do. Not. Push. Us.”
He lands another kick to my body, lower this time but painful no less. He fists my long hair, dragging me behind him as he moves across the room, tossing me onto the bed. All I can do is curl up into a ball, waiting for the next blow. But it doesn’t come.
I peek out from my protective ball and find the cabin empty. Relief fills me temporarily as I drag in a deep breath of air, ignoring the state of pain I remain in. I notice a pile of women’s clothing laid out for me on the bed, and I try sitting up. He may not have said the words, but the command was clear, and after what just happened, I’m not about to push him again.
Pushing through the pain, I put the clothing on and sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for him to return, praying he isn’t still pissed over my behavior with the new persona. I bring a hand to my tender neck, thankful he didn’t crush my throat during his fit of rage.
I hang my head, frustrated with myself because I know better. His condition makes him a loose cannon, and I should have considered that when I began to push him.
Fuck, I curse at myself, knowing I’m not being smart about this, and I need to be smart. Especially if I ever want to see my family again.
*****
When Jerry finally comes back into the cabin, I move like a skittish kitten, readying myself for anything. He greets me instead with a smile.
“Hello, pretty girl.” He smiles, taking in the sight of my body in clothing two sizes too small. He picked out a pair of jeans and a halter top made of see-through material. “Are you feeling any better?”
I shake my head, watching him cross the room toward me. He drops a black bag onto the dresser and slips a small metal object into the front pocket. A small metal object that looks like an old flip phone. My heart rate picks up and hope blooms in my chest.
A new idea forms as he continues to leer at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
I need to get into that pocket, because if my inkling about what he just slipped inside is right, I might have found a way to get help. Play it safe, Missy, play it smart.
“Angel, come here,” Jerry commands, taking out a set of handcuffs from the same pocket.
“You don’t have to do that, Jerry. I promise to behave.” I move toward him, showing him obedience. After pushing my luck this morning, I can’t suffer anymore at his hand right now, not if I plan to get into that pocket. My throat throbs from being choked and my body aches from the blows he punished me with to bring me back to consciousness.
“I’ve no doubt you will, pretty girl, and I can see you’ve learned your lesson quickly enough.” He tilts his head, studying the way I hold my bruised body. “I know you’re in pain, but your punishment wasn’t nearly what you deserved, you know that, right?”
I nod, playing into his ego. If there is one thing I have learned about this persona, it’s that he needs to feel like he is in control, but the control he seeks is over me. Jerry wants control, whereas the other wants fear.
“You have a question for me?” he asks; his observant eyes see the questions swimming in my eyes. His observations aren’t wrong, but the questions I have I need to be careful with. I can easily set him off again with them.
“He wouldn’t tell me his name. I’m just curious to know it.” I choose a safer topic. I don’t know the exact hierarchy between the two personas, or even if they are the only ones, but I figure there is no harm in knowing a name.
Jerry’s eyes glaze over, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t make a sound for a moment or two. It’s almost like he’s in a deep trance, asking the other persona permission to give me his name. I’ve never seen such control over this kind of psychological condition. I didn’t know it was possible.
“His name is Tommy,” he finally speaks, his eyes once again clear and watching me. “And he wants you to know, next time you decide to disobey or try to push your luck with either one of us, he will be the one to punish you. I suggest you heed his warning, Angel. Tommy lacks the control I have. If he had been the one doling out your punishment this morning, you wouldn’t be standing here with only a few marks to prove it happened.”
I heed his warning loud and clear. Recognizing he has some control over Tommy. He lifts the cuffs again and crooks his finger at me. “I’m going to be gone for a time, so please come here and let me secure you. We don’t want to take the chance you might get it in your head to escape, not that you’d get far. But neither I, nor Tommy, feel like spending the night in the woods searching for what is ours.”
“You’re leaving me?” I ask carefully. My eyes dart to the pocket I’m desperate to explore, and I think quickly, trying to figure out how I can get close enough to it. An idea forms as I watch his eyes rake along the length of my body, briefly stopping on my breasts. He licks his lips.
“Don’t worry, Angel, it’s just for an hour or two. I need to purchase some supplies and order a few things at the hardware store we’re going to need for renovations.” His voice is thick with lust, and I can’t help testing my theory by thrusting my breasts out further. It’s clear he likes to watch my full breasts nearly spill out of the halter top; his choice in my clothing reveals a lot about him and what he wants from me.
“Jerry,” I murmur, walking slowly toward him. His nostrils flare and his pupils darken as my nipples peek at him through the tight material. I hold out my wrists, following his directions, but he doesn’t move. He’s too entranced with the way my body moves in front of him. I decide to take it up a notch and press my arms together, pushing my breasts higher for him. “I don’t want to fight this anymore, so I’ve been thinking about all of it. I want to make you happy.”
“You do?” He tilts his head again, pulling his eyes from my chest to my face. His dark, curious eyes try to penetrate past the fixed gaze I’m trying desperately to pull off. I smile coyly at him, hoping I’m not overselling myself. “Don’t play games with me, Missy. I’ll know if you’re lying. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”
“I’m not playing games.” I stop a step or two in front of him and lift my hands to place them palm down on his chest. The contact causes him to suck in a deep breath. I spread my fingers wide, closing the distance between our bodies with the last step, pressing against his. “I want to make you happy. Will you let me?”
He looks down at me, and I can see the want, the need, the gullible reaction to my behavior, but he doesn’t trust my words as easily as I want him to. I lift my arms, snaking them around his neck. Standing up onto tiptoes, I try pulling his head toward mine, but he stiffens. I freeze all movement, hoping I haven’t pushed too much, too fast.
“I don’t want to push you, but I do want to please you.” I
loosen my arms and try to step back, but before I can move, his arms sweep around me like a vice grip, pulling me in tightly. His lips descend onto mine with brutal force.
My stomach rolls as his tongue plunges into my mouth, but I refuse to react negatively, instead turning that reaction into an advantage. I shiver, hoping he reads it as desire. I have to play this out. I have to make him believe I want this as much as he does. I need him to trust me. My life depends on it.
His hands seek out my ass, gripping me tightly and lifting me to spin us around. He moves, pinning me hard against the wall and conveniently next to the open pocket of the black bag I’m desperate to get into. I meet his vigor with my own as elation flows through my veins.
So far, my plan is working perfectly.
He groans, shoving his need against me with the thrust of his hips. I let my hands drift down his back slowly, like a lover would do, pulling at his shirt, until I reach his jean-clad ass. I grab one side of it hard, the side opposite the bag, thrusting my hips as a distraction. I let my other hand fall down to my side, reaching for the bag. When the tips of my fingers brush it, I carefully feel along the material, searching for the pocket. I moan happily as I find it a second later.
He groans in response. His hand opposite the bag reaches forward to cup my breast, but it’s not enough for him. His fingers seek the edge of my top and rip the material away from it, allowing the large globe to fall into his hand. He squeezes it painfully.
I reach into the pocket, fishing for the object, and nearly cry out with joy when I find it, my fingers confirming it is a cell phone. I lift the small object with my fingers, trying to figure out where to conceal it. I can’t put it in my pockets, not with the way he’s grabbing onto my body, and I can’t drop it, because he might hear it fall. My only option is to shove it down my pants, wedging it down between my legs, and hope like hell I’m able to waylay his actions and perhaps convince him to finish what we’ve started when he returns. I move quickly, pushing the phone into my jeans; as tight as they are, it’s a struggle, but my jerky movements do not disturb him, while I wrap a leg around him as a distraction.
Lost Without You (The Lost Series Book 2) Page 22
