“I’ll be sure to catch up with him then. I’ll check back in with you two later. Nora, it was a pleasure to meet you darlin’.” Nora smiled at him and nodded as Gabe walked him to the door.
Standing in the kitchen, she looked out the big window overlooking the Thornton’s property. The memories of her childhood growing up in that home haunted her. Under the cherry blossom tree is where Gabe and her shared their first kiss, on the small wooden bench is where Mr. Thornton caught them making out at sixteen. Nora giggled at that memory, she didn’t know who was more embarrassed—the two of them or Gabe’s father. This home had been a cherished part of her life, but standing there now…Nora knew she was at a crossroads. She had to decide whether to fully let Gabe back in and give him another chance—or cut her losses and say goodbye to the man that was quite likely the love of her life. The time to make that final decision was rushing towards her faster than she would like.
Gabe came back in after a few minutes. “Nora? Do you want me to give you a lift back over to the ranch before I jump in the shower? I need to wash this mud off.”
“I can wait. I was going to make myself a sandwich—you want?” she asked, raising her blue eyes to his.
Gabe hid his grin. She was getting comfortable in his presence again and he couldn’t have been more thrilled with their progress. Now if only he could talk her out of those little denim shorts, he would call this day a win.
“I’m fine, baby. You go ahead and I’ll be back down in a few,” Gabe walked over and kissed her forehead before leaving the kitchen. Nora closed her eyes and sighed. Picturing Gabe standing in the shower, naked and wet, water streaming over his chiselled muscles and dark tattoos was driving her mad. Ignoring the dampness of her panties, she walked to the fridge and pulled out the fixings for a ham and cheese sandwich. As she absent-mindedly spread mustard on her thick bagette style bread, her mind again turned to Gabe a few floors above her…naked, alone, wet. Dropping the knife with a clatter, she headed for the stairs.
Pausing outside Gabe’s bedroom door, her heart was pounding loud enough in her ears that Nora was certain Quinn would be able to hear it from her room one floor below. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and poked her head inside. The shower was still running, steam flowing out from the crack in the door of Gabe’s ensuite bathroom. Closing the bedroom door behind her, Nora clicked the lock into place, the finality of the sound not lost on her. She knew she was taking a huge leap here, possibly making a decision she wasn’t ready for…but her body could sense Gabe was near. Her senses came alive and her pussy was practically dragging her towards the shower like she was a puppy on a leash.
Pushing the bathroom door wider, she stifled a laugh at the sound of Gabe’s horrible singing. “I’m too sexy for my shirt, so sexxxyy its hurtssss,” he belted out. Her heart swelled in her chest and just like that, she was ready to jump back in with him. Destruction and chaos surrounded them—whatever was going on in their small town was a glaring reminder of just how easily hopes and dreams could be shattered. She would rather risk her heart on love than to not risk it at all and end up living with regret. Gabe was worth the risk. Besides, if he hurt her again, she’d make sure he was left missing one of his most vital organs.
Quickly removing her clothing, she tossed her hair and then slid the shower curtain back just enough to climb into the marble tiled shower with Gabe. The thrill of seeing him completely naked again sent desire swirling through her. He was magnificent and he was hers.
Appreciating his ass wiggling dance a hell of a lot more than his horrendous singing, she wound her arms around his waist, startling him. Stiffening, he relaxed once he felt her breasts press into his back as she fit herself to him.
“Well this is a surprise,” he said, turning in her arms. Drinking her in from head to toe, his mouth went dry. She was fucking gorgeous. Her full, perky tits with their pink nipples were hard little buds just begging for his mouth. Her tiny waist and pretty pussy were a feast his eyes couldn’t get enough of.
Dragging her closer, his cock almost wept with relief at the feel of her soft, smooth skin. “This isn’t gonna be slow, baby,” he told her, crashing his mouth down on hers.
“I don’t want slow,” she panted, biting his lower lip. Groaning, Gabe lifted her and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, throwing her head back and moaning when his mouth moved to suck on her neck.
“Fuck, Nora. You keep making sounds like that and I’ll be coming in no time,” he mumbled. The spray from the waterfall faucet was warm, soaking over them like a light rain.
Reaching between them, Nora gripped his cock in her hand, moaning again when she felt his thick length. Rubbing her thumb over the tip of him, she pumped her hand up and down, slow, feeling him twitch in response. Gabe ducked his head and captured a nipple between his teeth, tugging it upwards while kneaded her other breast.
“Gabe,” she cried, loving the sensations flowing through her. Now that she’d decided to be with him, her inhibitions were gone. There was no holding anything back from him, she was offering him all of her.
Gabe lifted her up higher and braced them against the wall. “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby. I can’t wait any longer to feel your pussy gripping me.” Finding her clit, he pulled and twisted it startling a squeak of pleasure out of her. While teasing her sensitive nub, his cock probed her entrance, sliding through her dampened folds. Finding her mouth again, he traced her tongue with his and thrust his hips forward, pushing into her in one powerful movement.
They both groaned into each other’s mouths at the contact, the feeling of his cock enveloped in her tight pussy was amazing. Matching his thrusts to their duelling tongues, it wasn’t long before Nora felt the familiar pressure building inside her. Slipping off his cock, she bent over, perching her ass up in the air. Glancing over her shoulder, she sent him a smoldering look. “Grab my hips, Gabe,” she ordered.
Shocked and thrilled at her brazenness, Gabe hurried to comply, positioning himself behind her and driving back into the pussy. The new angle forced him deeper inside her, reaching her sweet spot.
“Oh God, yes,” Nora cried out, pushing back to meet him thrust by thrust. Grabbing her tits, he kneaded them with skill, not once breaking his rhythm.
Nora went off with a long low moan, grabbing the wall to keep from toppling to the floor of the shower. Gabe followed a few seconds after, coming on a roar.
Pulling her upright, Gabe claimed her lips once more for a soft kiss. “That sure as hell was one way to clean up, baby.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Marcus’s face was close to hers. Too close. He breathed in the scent of her hair and bit down on the sensitive flesh of her neck, hard enough to leave a mark. Brooke cried and struggled, pushing on his chest with all the strength she could muster.
“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t do this to me. Just let me go.” Her vulnerability and fear were precious gifts to him, he drank them in with a dark greed; desperate to possess every part of her. The more she fought him, the harder he grew.
Cupping her breast through her shirt, he palmed and caressed her. “You’re only going to hurt yourself,” he warned her. Moving his mouth from her neck up to her lips, he kissed her hard.
“Time for your first lesson, beautiful girl.” With those words, he drove his cock into her. Gripping her shoulders, he held her down to prevent her from bucking off the bed in an attempt to escape as he pumped into her repeatedly, ignoring her screams and cries.
Brooke was in a daze of disbelief. He was inside her…their bodies were moving as one. He was robbing her of any dignity, stealing an intimacy that wasn’t his to claim for his own sick pleasure. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed for it to be over quick. Those prayers were never answered.
Gasping for breath, Brooke shot up in bed. Her hair was sticky with sweat and plastered to her forehead and neck. Holding a hand to her chest, she struggled to catch her breath. Reliving the first night she had been captured an
d brought to her prison was a terrifying experience. The dream had felt so real, like she was literally back in that moment.
Her subconscious was working hard to remind her of what type of man Marcus really was. He wasn’t her saviour, he may have pulled her out of Milo’s clutches—but he was also the sole reason she was in this mess in the first place. And now…the unthinkable had happened. She was pregnant with a child. His child. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the father, a sickening reality that she couldn’t deny. Hope was a useless emotion to her in her current situation. She needed knowledge, leverage, power. Since learning of her pregnancy, they had stopped drugging her—a blessing and a curse. The days were long and filled with memories of what had happened to her and the fear of what was to come. She needed out. She would protect her child with her life, regardless who the father was.
Climbing out of bed, she headed for the shower. Not that she cared about her appearance, but she had to take care of herself for her child’s sake. Eating regular meals and following a routine were the only things that got her through the day.
Pausing the look in the mirror, she stared hard at herself. The months had certainly changed her. Her long brown hair had grown a few inches and was in desperate need of a trim. Her green eyes lacked their usual sparkle…and her belly. Brooke guessed that she was maybe four months along in her pregnancy. Her belly was the size of a small rounded bump. She had yet to gain weight anywhere else on her body, despite her lack of physical activity. A flash of the woman she had seen the day of her failed escape passed before her eyes. Would she end up strapped down to a bed like that woman?
Looking down at her protruding belly she made the same vow she made several times a day since learning she was carrying a child.
“I’ll protect you. I will save you from him, little one,” she whispered.
Brooke was staring mindlessly at the program on the large flat-screen TV, when Greta arrived for her daily visit. Not looking up, she called out an absent hello and continued staring blankly ahead.
“Miss?” Greta tried to get her attention. Sighing, Brooke tore her gaze from the TV and acknowledged her “companion.”
Noticing she was carrying a small duffle bag, Brooke raised her eyebrows in curiosity.
“What’s that?” she asked, not in the mood for small talk. Greta smiled at her and placed the bag on the couch beside her.
“I have a surprise for you, Miss. We are going to spend the morning outside. The boss thought it would be a good idea for you to have some fresh air,” Greta informed her. That new information had Brooke’s attention snapping to her. Outside? She was being allowed outside! A series of ideas ran through her head. She could finally get a look of where exactly she was being held. There was an entire world of weapons that would be available out there. She was 100% confident she could incapacitate Greta in seconds and then—
“There is one stipulation, Miss,” Greta interrupted her plans. Opening the bag she withdrew a long brown leather rope with a loop on one end and a remote on the other. Handing it to Brooke, she waited.
Puzzled, Brooke examined it, turning it over and over in her hands. “I don’t understand, Greta…is this—is this a leash?”
Greta had the grace to flush as she nodded, confirming Brooke’s suspicions.
“So let me get this straight. Suddenly, Marcus has decided that I’m behaved enough that I can leave this room again, but only if I put my leash on and have my walk like a good little fucking dog? You people are out of your ever loving minds!” her voice had risen to a shrill yell by the end of her tirade.
“Miss, please. It would be good for you to get out of this room. And…and if you go, I may accompany you outdoors.” Her eyes pleaded with Brooke to give in, to allow her this one piece of freedom.
Gritting her teeth, Brooke fought for patience. Getting worked up wasn’t good for the baby. She needed to get her priorities in order—seeing this house from the outside could be the key she was looking for to save herself and her baby. Calling on her strength and determination, she straightened her spine.
“Alright,” she agreed, trying not to be affected by Greta’s happy smile. “Just tell me what the remote thingy is for first.”
“Um, well Miss, if you fall out of line…I am to press this button,” she held up the remote. “It will send a shock through the collar here,” she pointed to the end of the leash. “And an alarm will sound in…in Milo’s security office.”
Brooke was speechless. Every time she thought she had seen the worst they could do, they upped the ante. “A shock? So you’ll just electrocute me and leave Milo to finish me off if I frolic instead of walk like a dainty lady? Un-fucking-believable.”
“Miss, no. It’s a gentle stun, it will bring no harm to you or your baby. Please, let’s just go outside and enjoy some fresh air. There’s no need to even think of anything else,” Greta pleaded.
Huffing out a breath, Brooke braced her hands on her knees and stood up slowly. It wouldn’t be long before she would be waddling around.
“Fine. Put it on and get it over with,” she said. Greta raised the collar and buckled it into place. Holding the leash, she led Brooke to the door and knocked once. The tattooed man opened it and looked them over. Satisfied, he held it open for them to exit, locking it again once they were out in the hall.
“Boss says you have forty-five minutes.” His harsh tone left no room for argument. “God forbid we get a full hour,” Brooke muttered under her breath. Greta gave the leash a small tug and the two women descended the stairs, taking a left turn at the bottom and heading towards the back of the house. Being back in the foyer brought a flood of memories rushing back for Brooke as Red’s death flashed before her eyes. Sadness and regret filled her, her death was such a senseless one; her sacrifice had been for nothing. Brooke was still trapped and Red’s children were still lost. Marcus may have won for the time being, but she was determined to come out the victor—a free victor—at the end of this nightmare.
Greta opened the heavy wood door and sunlight immediately poured in. The screen door offered a view of a sprawling yard, green as far as the eye could see. The blue sky was a welcome sight and Brooke stood momentarily mesmerized; drinking it all in.
“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly and Greta smiled, opening the screen door and motioning Brooke out ahead of her.
Stepping outside, the warm sun beat down on Brooke’s skin, she was helpless to stop the grin from spreading across her face. Greta and Brooke strolled around the garden in companionable silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to speak and break the spell of the moment. Looking around her, disappointment filled her as she realized there was nothing but grass to see for miles and miles. No other buildings, no roads. There was no garden instruments to be pocketed for use later. The only furniture was a small patio style table and chairs set on a few brick stones. Thinking that there might be a few loose rocks that could be useful, Brooke steered them in that direction.
“My boyfriend and I, we used to walk our dog, Molly every morning in the sun. Greg and I…well I was so hopeful he was going to propose—and now—well now I don’t know what will become of me. Or if I will ever see my dog again,” Brooke’s voice broke on a sob as she burst into tears. She had tried to be so strong, to not let the memories of home seep in. The crushing despair was too much for her and she collapsed into the patio chair, sobs wracking her body as she cradled her head in her hands.
“Oh, Miss,” Greta’s voice was low and sad as she rubbed her back in a soothing manner. “I know, I understand. I miss my home too. More than you’ll ever know,” she admitted so quietly that Brooke almost didn’t hear her confession.
“Greta, why can’t you go home? I don’t understand why you continue to stay here and work for such a madman.” Greta wrung her hands and refused to meet her eyes.
“Let’s let you rest for a few more minutes and then take another stroll around the gardens. The temperature is lovely,” Greta ignored Brooke’s q
uestion about her personal life; not willing to share.
Standing up, Brooke subtly slid the handful of rocks into her pants pocket, careful not to alert Greta as to what she was doing.
Forty-five minutes passed quickly and soon Greta was tugging her gently towards the door. With one last look at the sprawling green fields, she complied.
Once in the kitchen, a blood-curdling scream rang out, causing both women to jump out of their skin. Brooke ran towards the sound, Greta on her heels calling out for her to stop. Skidding along the tiled floor, she threw open the door that held the tiny cots of infants, the scene no less horrifying than the first time she had seen it. Another scream rang out and Brooke knew exactly where it was coming from this time. It was the woman she had seen restrained to the bed. The very pregnant woman.
Racing into the room, Brooke halted, not able to believe her eyes. Dr. Daniels, Marcus and Milo were all standing over the woman as she screamed and screamed. In obvious labor, she pulled hard on her restraints, her head thrashing from side to side. Dr. Daniels stood up from leaning between her legs and announced. “The child is feet first, it cannot be turned. There is nothing that I can do to promote a natural labor.”
Marcus’s sigh could be heard across the room. “Fine. Cut the child out.” Milo moved to unsheathe the knife that was always tucked into the waistband of his pants when Marcus’s arm shot out, stopping him.
“Wait. Gag her. I don’t want Brooke disturbed by this inconvenience.” Dr. Daniels took the knife from Milo and pushed up the woman’s dress, exposing her swollen belly. Milo leaned down and looked her in the eyes. “Quiet, bitch,” he told her and stuffed a hankerchief in her mouth, effectively silencing her screams of torture.
Not one for ceremony, Dr. Daniels stepped closer and dragged the knife across the woman’s belly in a brutal slash. Brooke covered her mouth and stumbled back, not believing what she saw. Greta grabbed hold of her shoulders and tried to pull her from the room, but she planted her feet firmly, refusing to budge.
Evanesce (The Darkness #2) Page 10
