by Terry Towers
I huffed. “I think I’m already partway there.”
“You’ve been through a lot, more than a normal person’s mind can process all at once.”
“Becca seems well adjusted.”
He laughed. “Becca is an exceptional case.”
“How long has she been here?”
He clucked his tongue off of the roof of his mouth. “Dunno for sure. Six months. Eight maybe. I can’t honestly say, I just know she’s been here the longest.”
“Then what do you do usually?”
He cocked a brow up at me.
“All right. I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.” He may get frustrated with all my questions, but didn’t he see how frustrating it was having no answers?.
“Listen, it’s not that I’m trying to be difficult with you. One day you’ll know everything there is to know. But not now, not for a while.”
I looked down and fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt, before taking a deep breath in and asking him the question that had been on my mind while he’d been away. “What if you decide that you don’t want me anymore?” When he didn’t reply, I looked up into his eyes and saw sympathy and maybe just a little of something else – affection. “It’s not like we can have a normal relationship where we go out and do stuff together.”
“I doubt I’ll ever get bored of you, believe it or not you’re the only thing about this place that I feel good about. Caring for you gives me hope that I haven’t completely lost touch with my humanity. When you’re around violence and death as much as I am it eventually begins to numb you inside. It feels good to care for someone again.”
“So you really would have killed Connor?” It seemed too hard to believe that Lance could be responsible for anyone’s death, even someone like Connor.
“If his death wouldn’t potentially complicate things for me right now I wouldn’t have thought twice about it,” he replied. His tone was so devoid of emotion it sent a chill through me. “So for now, I have to settle for humiliating him in front of the slaves and other guards instead.”
“Are you a hitman?”
His expression went blank and my body froze. Ohmygod, was I right? Suddenly he began laughing; he laughed so hard his laughter was cut off with a loud groan as he clutched his side where his injured rib was.
“No, sweetheart. I’m not a hitman.” While he was talking with me in a good-natured manner I knew there was no way I was going to get him to open up any more than he had.
My attention focused on the television in front of us and Jenny’s claims that my family were all over the news came to mind. That had been about a week ago. “Is my family still on the news?”
“Yeah, it’s gone nationwide and still going strong. We’d never have been able to sell you to a U.S. buyer, at least not for a while anyhow.”
“Do you think one of the stations would be running my story right now?”
“If it is, I’m not sure if seeing it would be such a good idea, Gwen.”
“I’ll never see or talk to them again, will I?”
“No. That part of your life is over Gwen. You need to accept that. Seeing them on the television will only make this harder.” I glanced up at him and as he looked into my eyes, he frowned.
Tears began to well up in my eyes.
He huffed thrusting a hand into his dark hair, giving in. “Fine. Just for the record I’m opposed to the idea.”
Slipping out from under me, Lance walked over to the flat-screen mounted on the wall and grabbed the remote from the top, flicking it on. Sitting down beside me he flipped through the channels until he came to a news program that promised to give an update on the search for Gwen Anderson.
We spent close to a half hour in silence as we watched the news, although not a single word of what was being said registered with me. It wasn’t until my high school graduation picture popped up on the screen, my blue eyes gleaming and smile wide, that I perked up in my seat and really listened.
“The hunt for cheerleader and town sweetheart Gwen Anderson is still under way. The police and her family remain optimistic that she will be found,” the female reporter stated. The news story switched to an interview with Brandon. Tears filled my eyes as I watched him talk about how much he missed me and showed the reporter the ring he kept with him and planned on giving me when I was found. Jenny had been right. He had planned on proposing.
I glanced over at Lance, but his expression was blank as he stared at the screen, not giving any indication of what he was thinking. The sound of my mother’s voice came on the screen and my attention jerked back to the television. There was such worry in her eyes, it looked like she hadn’t slept since I disappeared, with dark circles under her puffy eyes. My father stood beside her, holding her tight.
“Mom…” I gasped as I slid from the sofa and crawled over to the television. Stretching up to the television, my fingers touched the screen, touching the image of her cheek.
“We know she’ll be brought back to us and the bastards that took her will pay –” The camera focused on my father as he continued to talk. He looked so sad, yet there was a flare of anger and determination in his eyes. I stared at my parents, attempting to burn their images into my mind so I’d never ever forget them. “– We’ll go to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes to find her.”
I leaned forward until my forehead was pressed against the screen as sobs overtook my body. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my body heaved as I gasped for breath. The news story continued interviewing my friends and teachers, but I barely heard anything being said.
“Gwen…” It wasn’t until his hand was on my shoulder that I realized Lance had gotten off of the sofa and was kneeling beside me. “It’s over.”
“How can you guys do this to people? You’re not only hurting the girls, but destroying families. What kind of monster do you have to be to do this to innocent, loving people?” I jerked my shoulder out of his grasp and crab walked away from him until my back hit the wall. “You’re all monsters!” I screamed.
Lance rose to his feet and said nothing, but simply nodded, not denying it.
“My parents, this is killing them!” All thought left my mind as I lunged myself at him, pounding on his chest with my fists. He took my assault until my fists came dangerously close to his injured rib; grabbing my wrists, he forced me to stop, pushing himself tight against me, pinning me to the wall, my hands above my head.
“I know, Gwen. I know. You had the chance, you had the gun in your hands, and you didn’t take it.”
“I wouldn’t have made it out and you know it!” I hissed. I wanted them all dead: The Boss, Connor, Tanner, Jazz and anyone else who dared lay a hand on the girls, or attempt to keep us here. Lance may have saved me, but he was a part of it all and that being the case a part of me hated him too.
“You’re right, you wouldn’t have, but it wouldn’t have been because I stopped you.”
Struggling against him I attempted to free myself, but his grip only tightened on me. “So that makes it better! If you don’t agree with what they’re doing then why don’t you stop it? You admitted you wouldn’t hesitate to kill Connor and any of the rest of them, then what are you waiting for? What makes their lives more valuable than the women in the dungeon? What makes their families more important than the girls’?” I screamed so loudly by the time I was finished that my throat was raw and no doubt anyone passing by in the hallway or in rooms that shared a wall with his could hear me, but I didn’t give a damn.
I could see the anger and frustration in his gaze as his body tensed against me. “Listen to me carefully, Gwen. You need to keep those thoughts and opinions to yourself,” he growled. “You’ll fucking get us both killed. Is that what you want?”
Letting out an uneasy breath, the tension and anger drained from my body. What was the point? “I want to go home.”
“Home isn’t an option anymore, Gwen,” he growled as he released me, pushing himself away, and turned his back to me. “You’re going to fucking ru
in everything.” The last comment was said so softly I doubted it was meant for me to hear it. Walking to the center of the room, Lance laced his fingers behind his neck and stretched his head from side to side. “Such a fucking bad idea…”
I had so many thoughts and emotions running through me, I couldn’t think straight. What in the hell was I going to ruin? He wasn’t the prisoner. Taking a few steps toward him, I stopped a couple of feet from his back, unsure what to do next.
“I’m sorry.”
“Baby, I appreciate that, but you have no idea what you’re apologizing for. I know you’re just saying it to smooth things over.”
Taking a couple of steps toward him, until I was directly behind him, I placed a hand on his upper arm. “Tell me what I did wrong. You can’t blame me for being upset. They’ve taken everything from me and hurt everyone I love.”
He looked down at me, catching my gaze. “And you have to accept that and move on. You have to close the door to the past and look to the future.”
“The future of being a slave.”
“You don’t know what the future holds, neither do I, but what I do know is the people you had in your life before arriving here won’t be in it.”
“Don’t you know how hard that is for me?”
“My mother was taken from me. I’ve lost friends. I know loss, baby.” For a brief moment I saw the pain in his blue eyes, it was so intense it was like a jab to the stomach, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone and his eyes became cold again. “But screaming about it at the top of my lungs to the people responsible isn’t going to make things better. That’s behavior that gets people killed.”
A frown creased my brow. I knew he was trying to tell me something, but my mind was so damned fucked up I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was getting at. “I don’t –”
“Play your role, Gwen, and give yourself to the process, that’s your only option.”
“But –”
He turned fully to look directly at me. “You don’t have to forget them, but you need to accept they’re no longer and will never be a part of your life again.”
“What if I can’t?”
“You can and you must. It’s the only option.” Just when I thought I was going to lose myself in another bout of tears he took me into his arms, pulling me tight. “You’re not alone. I’d hope you’d have realized that by now. We’ll get through.”
“I don’t know if I can ever be happy knowing that for the remainder of my life I’ll be a captive here.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” I didn’t even hesitate, I did. He’d proven himself over and over again. I may not understand him or his motives, but I trusted him and knew he’d protect me. It was the only thing I knew for certain.
“Then trust me when I say one day you’ll be happy again. It may not be today or tomorrow, but one day, Gwen. Until then, play your role and worry about one person only.”
“Myself.”
He nodded, a hint of a smile curving up the corners of his lips. “Exactly.”
Chapter 17
“I like it when you smile.” Seeing him smile tended to set me at ease no matter how upset I was and invoked other feelings. It was like a ray of sunshine peeking through the darkened clouds after a storm, signalling to me everything was all right.
He cocked a brow up at me, his smile widening. “Is that so?”
Catching my lower lip between my teeth, I nodded, a hint of a smile spreading across my lips as well. One smile and one tiny look of affection in his gaze was all that was needed for every worry to evaporate from my mind. The world, my worries; everything gone, all that existed was the little bubble that surrounded us, protecting me from the hurt and pain. In those few blessed minutes, the world was okay.
He brushed the back of his hand along my cheek, then hooked his index finger under my chin tilting my face up and lowered his lips to mine. His kiss was feather light, but the contact was enough to make my tummy do a little flip flop of anticipation.
Slipping my arms around him, I held myself close to him. Why was I fighting with him? He was my everything in this fucked-up, horrid place. Why would I sabotage myself and risk losing my only good thing? I didn’t have time to ponder it because his lips came down onto mine again, but this time with such intensity and passion it left me breathless, my heart thumping in my chest.
Clutching to the front of his shirt, I welcomed his teasing nips and probing tongue, inviting him in. As I moaned softly, his tongue slipped past my parted lips to caress mine. My fists tightened around his cotton shirt as we lowered ourselves to the sofa. As his hard body covered mine, settling between my legs, for the first time since I arrived at the compound I cursed having clothing covering my body.
Holding himself over me he pulled his lips from mine and stared down at me, his thumb caressing my cheek and tracing my lower lip. “I was so worried about you. All I could think about was getting back here to protect you.”
I felt the trembling of tears… again. I’d never cried so much in my life as I had while I was here. How much could a person possibly cry in the span of a few weeks anyhow? If there was a limit I swore I was getting close to hitting it. The extremes of intense emotions I’d been experiencing over the past few weeks – fear, humiliation, anger, guilt, but also gratitude and affection – kept me on edge nearly every moment of every day. My emotions were a volatile rollercoaster that threatened to derail at any moment, but thanks to Lance I remained tethered to the tracks.
I laughed softly. “You’re going to make me cry again.”
Lance smiled as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “I’m not sure how I feel about you beginning to cry minutes before I remove your clothing and use my lips to explore every inch of your stunning body.”
Laughing outright, I slipped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me, brushing my lips along the side of his neck. He groaned and his body tensed, his shaft beginning to form an erection against my pelvis. I wiggled under him as an ache began to develop between my legs, demanding I feel more of him.
“Being here with you gone was some of the worst days of my life,” I whispered, my lips grazing his earlobe.
He groaned again and pulled up, ghosting his lips across mine. “You’ll never have to worry about me leaving you again.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I teased, nipping his lower lip and sucking it between my lips before releasing him.
“I never make promises I can’t keep.” His voice was so sure and so convincing I froze under him. When I looked up into his eyes, I knew it was true. How he planned on keeping that promise I didn’t know, but as his lips crashed down onto mine and a hand slipped under the t-shirt he’d given me to cover my breast all thought escaped me and I became a slave to the sensations rushing through me.
Lance palmed my left breast, pinching the nipple until it was a tight pebble, sending little jolts of pleasure through me, increasing my need. My hands grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and began to push it up his body.
Removing his lips from mine, he sat back on his heels, grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor. He was about to stretch out over me again, but I placed the palm of my hand on his chest, stopping him.
“What’s wrong?” Lance asked, giving me a quizzical look.
Propping myself up with one arm so I could get a better look at him, I began to trace the lines of muscle, my eyes feasting on his body. “I’ve never seen someone built so well before,” I whispered more to myself than to him. “It’s like those marble statues at the museum.”
A hoot of laughter escaped him. “Statues, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Like those Greek gods. Amazing.” He didn’t respond, but continued to look down at me. The heat in his gaze challenged my curiosity and need to explore his body.
My index finger circled a small round scar on his lower right side. “What’s that from?”
�
��I was shot.”
My eyes lifted to meet his. “Ohmygod. When? What happened?”
“About a year ago. I had a little tussle with someone who didn’t like a deal I was setting up.”
“So they shot you?”
“Pretty much.” He said it so carelessly, as if people got shot every day and it was no big deal.
“Rather extreme if you ask me.”
“I deal with a lot of extreme people, baby.” Our gazes locked and I hoped he’d elaborate – he didn’t and I didn’t want to push him. I was confident he’d tell me when he was ready.
I noticed his erection was rock solid and straining against his jeans; no doubt it was testing every bit of resolve he had to keep from devouring me like I knew he wanted to. I was tempted to finish my exploration later, but then I noticed two more round scars similar to the one at his side, those two near his right shoulder.
“Also bullet wounds?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask you a question?” It was something that had been nagging at me since I’d pointed the gun at him.
A soft, sexy smirk curled the corners of his lips. “I suspect even if I said no you’d ask anyhow.”
“Have you really killed people?”
His smile faded as he slowly nodded his head. It should have scared me and maybe it was wishful thinking, but I felt in my heart of hearts that each life he took had a reason behind it.
“How many people?”
Lance’s expression turned to the blank slate it normally did when my questions entered a taboo conversational area. “More than I would have liked.”
My eyes lowered from his and went back to watching my finger travel the hard lines of his abdominal muscles. “Did they deserve it?”
“I wouldn’t have killed them if they hadn’t.”
“Do you feel bad about it?”
“No.” His voice was so cold and disconnected that my gaze jerked back up to meet his and I knew it was true. He had no remorse for the people he’d killed. I wished I could understand him. He wasn’t devoid of emotions as much as I knew he attempted to keep them locked away. I felt his caring and affection. But it seemed like he had a way of switching the emotions off when needed.
