by Frankie Love
It just might not look the way I expected.
I gave my virginity to a man who now has a part of my heart, forever.
And I can’t take that back.
I don’t want to take it back.
I’ll get to Anchorage and make a statement of apology to the auction goers and to HAHA. The auction was a foolish idea, but falling for Ryder was not.
He was right earlier. I was scared of what falling so hard, so fast might mean.
But I don’t care about the risks anymore. It’s sure as hell a lot safer than riding in this plane with a man I am growing to realize is not who he seems.
Luther’s hand doesn’t leave my knee, though, and for the rest of the ride, he holds on. When he lands the plane on his private lake, I curtly thank him for calling my parents, for coming for me. I’m planning on running from him as fast as possible.
And calling Ryder as soon as I can.
To ask for another chance.
“Anything for you,” he says with sinister eyes.
He helps me from the plane by taking my hand a little too tightly, leading me from his massive dock toward the mansion up on the bank.
It’s an unreal piece of property, in different ways than Ryder’s is. Ryder’s was untamed, a wild forest and an untouched lake. This estate has a massive gate keeping out anyone who might come close. It’s ornate and flashy and the closer we get the more my skin prickles.
I don’t want to be here.
As we walk up the steps toward an entrance, I try to focus on anything other than the fact he is still gripping my hand in his, not letting go even when I try to pull away. “Did you live here with your late wife?”
“I did indeed.”
I try to ask him about Helen, but he brushes me off, forcing me to drop it.
But as we enter the house, the thick-carpeted foyer with an elaborately gaudy staircase in gilded gold, I try to imagine the down-to-Earth vision I have of Helen Ottenbagh.
“Were you and Helen married long?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“Long enough for her to rub off on me.”
I smile. “She gave you a passion for animals and protecting undeveloped land?”
Luther poorly conceals a smile. “No.” He stops walking and faces me. “She had a lot of money and was easily charmed.”
He steps toward me, his hand suddenly on my waist, drawing me to him. “Just like you, pet. You find me charming, don’t you?”
I step back, not wanting this to be happening. Ryder was so very right.
I squeeze my eyes tight, wanting this all to disappear.
“Don’t be scared little one. I know you will be very good for me, won’t you?” he purrs in my ear and my skin crawls.
Then I remember I am not alone here. “Where are my parents?” I ask, opening my eyes and looking around. The house is quiet, there are no sounds coming from anywhere.
“They haven’t gotten here yet. But they’ll be here any minute. Why don’t I take you upstairs while we wait? Get you a nice bath, wash your hair. It looks like Ryder made you rough it a bit more than a rich girl like you is used to.”
“No, I’m fine right here,” I tell him, suddenly desperate to call my dad, ask him to come quicker. Now.
“I know what’s best for you, darling.” He cups my cheek with his hand and I swat him away.
“Don’t call me that. I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“Oh,” Luther says with a devilish grin. “Playing hard to get, is that it? Is my little virgin needing to be taught a lesson?”
“You are not my teacher and I’m not a virgin.”
He raises his eyebrows and I immediately realize my error.
“Not a virgin?” he grabs my wrist, pulling me up the stairs. I try to resist, but he pulls harder, and my feet move not wanting to be dragged against the hardwood. “Did Ryder tarnish you or were you a lying slut this whole time?”
I cry out in pain as he pushes me into a room, locking the door behind us.
It’s dim, the lights are low, but it is obvious what kind of room this is.
A pleasure room. A sex chamber. But amidst the swing and the whips and the handcuffs, all I see is pain.
Torture.
Agony.
I don’t want to be here with him.
Ryder’s words from this morning ringing in my ear as Luther pushes me to a bed, cuffs me to the headboard. He’s a creep. A monster. He doesn’t deserve you.
I didn’t believe him. I told him he was jealous, wrong. I thought Ryder kidnapped me because he wanted to sleep with me and didn’t have the balls to stand up and bid on me like everyone else.
But that wasn’t it at all.
He kidnapped me because he knew what kind of man Luther was.
What kind of man Luther is.
Luther unbuttons my jeans and pulls them down and I close my eyes, my cuffed hands making it impossible for me to do anything but kick and squirm.
And kick and squirm I do.
But it does no good.
Luther leans over me, pressing his nose against my covered pussy, holding me in place.
This can’t be happening. Please don’t let this be happening.
All I want is to go back in time, to this morning. To Ryder and me.
Ryder.
Ryder.
I squeeze my eyes closed tighter as Luther pushes down my panties, my body exposed.
I need Ryder. I need him now.
Chapter 20
Ryder
As Luther’s mansion begins to come into view, I can’t help but think about when I grew up on this property. I loved it so damn much; before it was turned into something obscene.
Back when it was my mom’s home, birds could land to find sprinkled seeds in the rocks, tall grasses whipped around my legs as I searched for animal tracks, and tall cedars gave shelter to squirrels and mice.
Now, as we head toward the dock, this bird’s eye view reminds me that trees have been cut, raw land replaced with sod and landscaping. The place that had been a sanctuary is now a slap in the fucking face. There is only one place on this entire plot of land that reminds me of home, of before. One place that is mine.
Before Luther was a snake, he was a man who manipulated my mom and won her over. Now he has crossed a line that he will regret for the rest of his life
Taking Justine.
“Thanks, man,” I tell the pilot, grateful as fuck that he flew so fast. I radioed the police as soon as I got on the plane, so the pilot realized the urgency to the situation.
When the seaplane lands next to Luther’s I run up the dock toward the house I know like the back of my hand.
The police, the fucking news crews, maybe they are rooting for this millionaire who won the right to sleep with her, but they don’t know Luther like I do. They haven’t seen him the way I have.
It’s as if after my mom died, he lost the one thing he cared about and now there’s no reason for him to grow a moral backbone. A conscience. He can’t see the difference between right and wrong, good and bad.
Pleasure and pain.
When I get to the house and see that the cops aren’t here yet—the storm must have blocked any easy access route—I make a quick plan. No way in hell am I going into that house without protection for my woman.
Luther may have done away with most of the forest of trees on the property, but I know that in the shed, there’s an ax used for chopping wood.
An ax I’ve used before and an ax I will use again. I grab it by its wooden handle, knowing that the blade is sharp enough to break through the door that’s keeping me from Justine.
I run up to the back entrance of the house knowing deep in my gut where he has brought her.
I push my way into my mother’s house, but Luther has ruined this place for me. I move through the ground floor hearing nothing but my own footsteps. My own beating heart. My own fear courses through me.
I’m not a religious man but right now all I want is to be sure t
hat she is safe. And I will pray to whomever I need to. Please God, I think, please don’t let anything happen to Justine.
I bound up the stairs, ready to raise my fists, needing to make Luther pay.
Down the hall I run, pushing hard against the door that I remember him showing me with such pride. A room made for bondage, a room that knows nothing about a safe escape.
A soundproof room for him to do what he likes to the woman I love.
Love.
In that moment, as I push my body against the locked door, all my weight grinding against the wood-paneled entrance, I know the truth.
I would do anything for Justine.
A woman I’ve only known for a day. A woman who has changed the way I look at the world. I don’t want to close myself off if it means not having her. I don’t want to run or hide if it means not having her.
All I want.
All I need.
Is her.
I need to get into this room and I need to get into this room now.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next. Knowing that if he has done something to Justine I will do something permanent to him. I grip the handle of the ax tighter as I take a wholehearted swing. My biceps flex, my heart races, my intent clear. The blade of the ax connects with the wooden door.
And there is a loud, resounding crack of the splintering wood as I pull back the blade and swing again. The only thing I care about right now is chopping down the one thing dividing me from the woman I love.
The wood is broken and now I can hear the screams of Justine.
It’s a gagged, desperate scream.
She is in trouble and Luther Morris did this to her.
Luther sees me through the broken door, his eyes those of an unhinged man. And I know my own eyes must look wild and rough and ready to avenge what he’s done.
“Get away,” he snarls at me. Sweat dripping down his face, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his eyes darting around.
When he lunges for the door as if he has the ability to keep me from coming in, I see Justine spread out on the bed.
Her panties at her ankles, her breasts bare, her fear palpable.
I push my hand through the broken door and unlock it. I kick it in, ready to kick Luther in, too.
And I do. The ax is swung over my head, I raise it with fierce determination.
“You motherfucker,” I growl. “You will pay for this, do you understand?” I shout. He’s an idiot, a fucking fool because he lunges for me with his hand outstretched as if he’s going to choke me.
I use the bottom of the ax and push it in his chest. The blow pushes him to the ground and I kick him while he is down.
Knowing Justine isn’t in imminent danger, I reach for one of the belts hanging on a wall, a belt I don’t want to imagine him using on any woman, let alone my woman.
In a swift movement that I didn’t even need to think twice about, I bind his hands. I intrinsically know what needs to be done. I lean down, looking in his beady eyes. He snarls at me. We both know his words mean nothing now.
But he can glare at me all he likes. It’s not like his face is going to do anything but piss me off even more.
“You’re such a fucking pile of shit,” I tell him, my foot on his chest, his back on the ground, hands behind him.
He begs me to move my foot because it’s crushing at his chest.
“I’ll do what I fucking want,” I spit back at him.
Luther hasn’t learned anything though because he just snaps back, “You think you’re so special, don’t you, Ryder? Such a little momma’s boy. But she’s not here to save you.”
I shake my head at this man who has taken Justine against her will.
“And you’re not able to save yourself,” I tell him, knowing justice will be served. I already hear people charging the house, a police officer shouting making their arrival known.
Knowing that in a moment they will be in this room, I kick Luther one more time, then I run over to Justine and pull up her panties up, not wanting her sweet skin exposed when the officers arrive at the scene. I loosen the gag from her mouth; the tears streaming down her cheeks break me.
“Ryder,” she cries, her eyes so full of sorrow. “I should have listened, I should have believed you.”
“Baby.” I hold her face with my hands. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.”
“The keys are in his pocket,” she gasps.
Luther’s trying to loosen his hold, and I make my way to him, reaching for the keys in his pocket, before rushing back to Justine.
As I move toward her, four police officers with guns raised, enter the room.
My body covers Justine, I don’t want her to be seen like this. She may have wanted to sell her virginity, but she never wanted to be defiled.
As the police officers assess the scene they’ve just walked into, I use the key to unlock Justine from the bed and then I take off my jacket and wrap it around her.
I pick her up, cradling her in my arms.
Cradled right where she belongs.
I look at the officers. “I’m taking my woman outside. If you need to question us, question us there. I’m not staying in this house one moment longer.”
They look at Justine, and she nods. “It’s him. He’s the monster who should be punished.”
They force us to answer a few more questions and we oblige, knowing the sooner Luther is taken care of, the better. They want a statement from Justine about what happened the night she left the convention center. What I did with her. What Luther did too.
But she refuses to say much and instead says she needs a lawyer present.
When the officers realize we aren’t giving them much, they start dealing with Luther. I take Justine outside, as far as possible from the monster who married my mother.
He may have ruined most of this property, but there is one place I know he hasn’t touched.
That’s where I’m taking Justine.
EXPOSÉ
The Gossip Column You Can Sink Your Teeth Into
MILLIONAIRE VILLAINAIRE? By Trista Piper
The story of the auction of Justine Van De Shire’s virginity continues to bewilder Alaskan natives. When questioned, a neighbor of Luther Morris stated that he’s not quite the clean-cut millionaire everyone at EXPOSÉ seemed to believe.
“He cut down all those trees Miss Helen Ottenbagh had saved. He clear cut a hundred acres or more.”
While we care about the native lands, we here at EXPOSÉ, really want to know the dirty details of Luther Morris because late this morning, when the police force was on route to Ryder Ottenbagh’s property two hours north of Anchorage, Luther took his private plane to the property that he knows very well, usurping law enforcement and upsetting everyone involved, causing everyone to question his motives.
When our EXPOSÉ reporter asked about what Luther does in his free time, the anonymous neighbor replied, “Everyone says he’s down at the bar most nights trying to pick up women on that Fire Starter app.”
Maybe everyone in Alaska isn’t quite up-to-date on Tinder, but after talking to several women who have come forward admitting to having slept with him, we got a clearer picture of this highest bidder.
“He handcuffed me to the bed and I told him I don’t like that sort of thing. So, he kicked me out!” said a 23-year-old student at ASU.
“He seemed nice until he brought me to his torture chamber!” a 21-year-old waitress told us.
“He seemed so handsome, but then he asked if he could defecate on me. In the backseat of my car!” complained a 20-year-old Uber driver.
“He left me on the side of the road with no cab money and no phone. I walked three miles in the dead of night. He is a piece of sh*t!” said another 22-year-old date.
Well, ladies! The consensus seems to be swipe left!
Chapter 21
Justine
Maybe it’s wrong, but the moment Ryder holds me in his arms, I pray to God he will never let me go.
>
Does it make me weak? That I feel safe in the arms of a man I’ve only known for such a short amount of time?
Or does it make me strong, being able to give myself, my heart, and my soul, over to a rugged stranger after only one day together?
It doesn’t matter, because when Ryder carries me out of the house, with the afternoon wind whipping my hair, I cling to his neck, inhaling his strength and his courage.
I know it doesn’t matter who thinks I’m weak or who thinks I’m strong.
All that matters right now, is us.
Him and me and our hearts pounding in perfect harmony.
“I was so fucking scared something happened to you,” Ryder says. We cross the front lawn, heading down a hill into a secluded area. “I mean, I know something did happen to you. That’s not what I meant ––”
“I know what you meant. And I know what you mean. I’m so glad Luther didn’t…” I can’t finish the sentence because tears flood my eyes and I sob into his chest.
I should have trusted Ryder.
Now I know. Now I always will.
“The police will be busy with Luther for a while,” Ryder says stopping under a big tree; its heavy branches filtering the light. “I thought you could use a minute to breathe. To calm down before we go to the station, before you decide what you want to do... with me... with all of this. I’m sure your parents are worried.”
I look around, expecting him to set me down. But instead, he looks up. I follow his gaze and see where he has brought me. “A tree house?”
“Built it with my dad when I was a kid. You want to go up?” he asks.
I bite my bottom lip, knowing that I’m wearing nothing but panties and Ryder’s oversized coat. Knowing that if I climb that ladder I won’t just be calming down. I will be asking him to forgive me.
But I vow to ask him very nicely.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, carrying me to the base of the tree.
