Rage (A Jaden Rayne Adventure Book 1)

by Lilith Darville

  “Keep telling yourself that, bud. Did you know she’s an empath?”

  “I don’t know anything about an empath, but it sure feels like she’s trolling around in my head sometimes. It’s unnerving.”

  “Like she can see right through the reinforced steel vault you’ve built around your heart. I know the feeling.”

  “How come you know so much about it?”

  “Kat knows a lot more about it than me. Kat’s what you call a mild empath. It’s like she absorbs the emotions of people around her. Sometimes I feel like she can read my thoughts. She’s never met someone as sensitive as your Rayne.”

  She’s not my Rayne. “How so? What makes Rayne so special?”

  “She can feel if someone is hurt or ill. Maybe not everybody, but she’s highly tuned to some people around her. It’s freaky, really. We had a demonstration during flogging class.”

  “Things aren’t supposed to get to the point of real pain. How’d that happen?”

  “We don’t want undesired pain. For some, pain is pleasure. As it turns out in this case, Charmian’s Dom had instructed her not to use the safe word during her training.”

  I’m fascinated, although I hate to admit it. “So, what did Rayne do?”

  “You know how we stop for checkpoints? I checked in after every ten strokes. Charmian kept saying, ‘green light.’ At one point, Rayne tilted her head, squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and shook her head. When I asked what was wrong, she announced that Charmian was in real pain and wanted to stop, she just wouldn’t admit it.”

  “Which exit?”

  “The 403.” I don’t care about the damned directions. I want to hear what happened next.

  “Yup, you’ve got it bad.”

  Even Connor can see through me, but I can’t let thoughts of my Dracaena distract me from my mission. Time to focus. I check my artillery. My Cold Steel Recon Scout knife remains firmly fixed in my ankle sheath with my Swiss Army knife strapped to my waist. I lift my Glock 19 from my IWB holster and rack the slide, satisfied that a round sits snugly in the chamber.

  “Are we expecting trouble?” Connor expertly navigates around the dense highway traffic. “Kat’s worried we could be walking into a trap. When things seem too easy, they are.”

  “I think she’s worrying too much, Con. Viper has no idea we’re onto him. We’ll snatch Summer and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “At least we know Kat and Raine are okay. That’s one less thing to worry

  about.”

  I barely see the lush scenery rush by in the summer afternoon sun. I fight the tendrils of fear curling around my active imagination that has conjured one scenario after another in which things go wrong.

  “Soft or hard?” Connor keeps his gaze trained on the highway ahead, but his message is clear. He’s giving me the lead—something he rarely does—and he’s checking the level of engagement. Connor is perhaps the only person in the world who has earned the singular honor of red belt before reaching his dotage. He believes you should learn how to fight so you never have to, but he had no qualms about neutralizing anyone who brings harm to women or children.

  “Three guys. Hard, if necessary.” I glance over at Connor. Would he mistake my reticence as weakness?

  Connor turns his penetrating stare onto me for two seconds, then gives one sharp nod. “I don’t take prisoners.”

  This much I know. “Summer’s been no threat to them, so she’s pretty much dropped off and left wherever they’re working her. The pimp may check in.”

  “Aren’t most transactions done via app now?”

  “Yeah. Joker hacked their server. That’s how he found her. She’s scheduled for the afternoon and night.”

  “Sounds like they work them to death.” Connor shakes his head. “Hard to figure.”

  “They quite literally work them to death. It’s a contest to see whether the drugs, a john or their pimp will kill them first. Rayne says it will be the drugs in Summer’s case. She doesn’t fight; she just keeps asking for another hit of smack.”

  “Nasty stuff. Indeed, that will kill her if she does enough of it. Where are we taking her?”

  “Depends on what shape she’s in. Then it’s time to take care of Viper once and for all.” I open the yawning pit of vengeance and jump in.

  Connor spins the steering wheel tight, presses the accelerator, and peels to a stop in the parking lot behind a 7-Eleven across from the motel. We hop out and eye the motel. Its crumbling brick walls have faded to a puce color that reminds me of the noxious activity taking place behind its closed doors. I square my shoulders.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, man?” Connor shoots a quick glance my way.

  “No choice.”

  We scout the area. Locate the three goons. Two watch the back. One who thinks he’s hidden behind a spruce tree watches the front. I nod. Connor takes the two. I take slow, measured steps. Without a sound, I come up from behind. Wrap my left forearm around his neck. So easy to snap. He stiffens and braces to fight. I tap the sweet spot that renders him unconscious. Zip tie hands to ankles. Duct tape the mouth.

  Connor pulls up in front of the office. He hops out of the car. I run to join him. We wrench open the sagging ripped screen door. Even the bright summer sun can’t penetrate the dark and dingy lobby. A thirty-something man wearing a grease-stained T-shirt of indiscriminate color sits behind a dirty counter. He jumps up and grins, exposing several gaping holes where rotting teeth have once enjoyed the same filth as their remaining relatives. His body odor almost knocks me over.

  “You the guy come to get the girl in twelve-B? Where’s my dough?” Greed shines through the guy’s eyes. I remove two envelopes from my inside jacket pocket and slide one on the countertop. “This one’s for the key to the room.” I waive the other envelope in the air. “You’ll get the other half when we have the girl.”

  “Hey look, man, that wasn’t the bargain.”

  “It is now. Take it or leave it.”

  The guy grabs for the envelope. I place my hand over it, shaking my head. “Nuh uh uh.”

  He mumbles and shuffles around to a large pegboard covering the wall behind him. He hands me a key. “Make it quick.”

  “Is she alone?”

  “You think I spend all my time watching the little whores?”

  I reach across and grab the front of his T-shirt and haul him across the counter.

  “You really want to mess with me?”

  The guy shrugs me off and tries to look all full of bravado as he pulls the filthy shirt over his beer belly. “No way, man. Don’t get your shirt in a knot. Her john just left. This one was quick. Her pimp won’t be back ’till the half hour when he brings the next guy.”

  No time to lose. We make our way to room 12-B. I check my arsenal while Connor follows suit. Guns drawn, we stand on each side of the door. Connor taps the door with the butt of his Smith & Wesson Magnum, and it swings inward. I go in high. Connor goes in low.

  We scan the small room and bathroom. No goons. A young girl lies in a heap on the bed, naked from the waist down, curled in the fetal position. I sit beside her and cover her with the threadbare bedspread. I touch her hair. She moans and pulls away. Her movements are slow and sluggish.

  “Summer, you’re safe now. We’re friends of Rayne.”

  At the mention of Rayne’s name, Summer moans something unintelligible and shakes her head. Did I hear the word “trap”? I rest my hand on the back of her head. She shudders and curls into a smaller ball, trembling. I remove my hand.

  “I can’t hear you. What did you say?”

  Summer turns her head toward me. Pupils the size of pinheads stare up at me from eyes filled with cunning and fear. “Rayne’s as good as dead. He’s going to kill her.” Her hand darts from under the comforter and grabs my wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

  “Where’s my fix? I need my fix,” she whispers in a young child’s voice.

  I look at the row of fresh track marks lining her arm a
nd shake my head.

  “Fuck,” Connor says. “Looks like she’s smacked out. It’s only been a week, hasn’t it?”

  “A couple. It only takes a few hits to be a full-blown addict, especially when you’re in this position.” I point at Summer as she wretches on the bed. Connor brings over the garbage can and drops it beside us. I nod my thanks. “Can we take her to our rehab clinic?”

  “Let me make a couple of calls. Kat’ll make sure there’s a bed for her,” Connor says. He dials his cell and listens. “Call me, babe.” He clicks off the call. “That’s weird. It went to her voice mail.”

  “What’s weird about that?”

  “Usually, when she’s waiting to hear from me, she answers before the end of the first ring. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Connor hides behind a mask of nonchalance, but I know him well enough to know he’s worried. I pull out my cell and dial Rayne. No answer. Shit.

  “Maybe they’re still at the club. I’m sure they’ll get back to us in a tick.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” Connor pulls his cell phone again. “Bri? … Good. Where’s Kat? … What? … What men? … When?” Connor clicks off. He rests his forehead on the fist closed around the phone. “He’s got them.”

  I know precisely what he’s talking about. My heart plummets as I embrace my reality. The ubiquitous love wasn’t meant for me. I drop a vault over that small glimmer of hope fighting to break free.

  “I knew this was some kind of trap,” Connor said.

  The hairs rustle on the back of my neck as if a ghost is breathing on me. I pick up my cell and press the speed dial for Rayne’s iPhone. No answer. I text. No answer. I slam the base of my hand on the dash. “Shit.”

  36

  Rayne

  Wake up and find yourself a new life, baby …

  “This is going to be such fun.” Kat and I head back to the suites. “I’m taking you shopping after we see Sasha. There’s a dress at Versace you’ve just got to see. Oh, here’s the car now.” She stops short as we hear two men pushing a loaded housekeeping cart coming up behind us. “Wait, this isn’t—”

  One guy steps in front of the cart and punches Kat in the gut. She slumps into the waiting arms of the other man. He tosses her onto the back seat of the van. Panic surges through me like an army of fire ants spreading their toxin through my bloodstream. I pivot to run back to the dining room. The first guy sticks something hard into my gut. Jolts of electricity shoot through my core. Horrible muscle spasms grip me. I can’t move. My brain feels all fuzzy as if each thought has to walk through quicksand to reach the other side. I don’t feel the pain as my body slams against the hard metal floor. Darkness descends.

  Pain. Everywhere. Panic returns. I keep my eyes shut while I try to figure out what the fuck happened. Why am I in so much pain? I try to move my arm. Pain jolts through my shoulder.

  I’m on my back, shackled over some sort of bench. Pins and needles prick their way through my hands. My wrists are tied over my head. A restraint device spreads my legs far apart. I’m completely exposed. Something heavy is pinching and pulling my nipples. My eyelids spring open. Nipple clamps with weights stretch my nipples beyond recognition.

  “Ah, there she is. Now, the fun can begin.” Viper yanks my head up until I’m gazing into his empty eyes, empty like his soul. “You’re all mine now.”

  He leans toward me. I jerk away, heart jackhammering out of my chest. Once, when I was about twelve years old, ES took Summer and me to see a horror movie called The Prisoner. The filming took place in a dungeon room filled with torture equipment—barbarous whips, rushing chains, whipping benches. A room just like this one. Kat lies unconscious on the bedrock floor. Blood trickles from her forehead. I’m not even sure she’s breathing.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll have her join the fun shortly. Right now, it’s just you and me. Viper runs his foul hand down my stomach. He grabs my left breast. I hiss as pain zings through my nipple. Viper nips the nipple with his teeth. I squeeze my eyes tight to hold back the tears. My internal screams are loud enough to shatter even the strongest crystal.

  Viper lets go and laughs. “Not enough for you, eh?” He walks over to a sideboard and brings back a couple of small magnets. He attaches one to each nipple clamp. I blow more air through my teeth. The pain is exquisite. I will not scream. I will not show this bastard any weakness. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll beg me. Until then, we play.”

  I will never beg you. I want to spit on him, but my mouth’s completely free of saliva. I drink eagerly as Viper holds a water bottle to my dry lips. I frown when he pulls it away.

  “Gotta keep this skin hydrated. Now, let’s make sure you understand the rules.” He flicks a riding crop across the top of my breasts. I stifle a moan and try to prepare my mind for the upcoming horror.

  “You and your girlfriend here are the party favors. You’ll serve us food and your bodies. Understood?”

  I stare at him mutely, trying my best to control my breathing. I will not let this bastard get the best of me. I refuse to respond. He picks up a switch and starts in on my inner thighs. Soon, tears and snot run down my face; I can’t stop them. My harsh and Viper’s excited breaths accompany the solid swish of the switch as it meets the tender flesh lining my thighs. He beats me until purple welts line my stomach and upper legs.

  “Ready to give in?”

  I can’t raise my head, but I won’t surrender to this bastard. I just have to hang on long enough, praying for Jaden to find me. I shake my head imperceptibly, but it’s enough.

  “I see we’re going to have to get serious with you.” He pulls the nipple clamps off. As intense pain sears my chest, I bite my tongue to keep from vomiting. “We’ll start with a paddle, then we’ll move up the whip chain. I’d prefer to have you in one piece for the party, but I will make you bleed if I have to.”

  I suck in a sharp breath. Maybe resistance isn’t the brightest plan in the world. What good will I be if I’m dead by the time Jaden finds me? Viper flips me over on the bench and proceeds to shackle my wrists and ankles to each corner.

  Viper’s sour breath turns my stomach as he crouches in front of me. He smiles just like the Joker. “I bet you think that rat bastard of yours will rescue you. Well, think again. He’s off on a wild goose chase, rescuing your sister. Who, by the way, is almost as good as dead.”

  Fucker. I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my terror.

  Viper picks up a long, wooden paddle. “Let’s get you warmed up with this.”

  I lose count after fifty-eight strokes. I let my tears fall and surrender to the pain. Time for my bitch goddess to keep me company. The eye of my mind floats out of my body and perches on my shoulder. My sobbing breaths become the loudest thing in the room.

  Viper picks up two small whips and rolls his shoulders. He tests the whips against the air. I cringe at the snapping noise. I focus my hatred on the sound.

  “Last chance. And this time, I’ll take every bit of skin off you. Is that what you want?”

  I can’t move. “No,” I whisper.

  “Good girl.” Viper smacks my raw ass with the flat of his hand. “Let’s wake up your buddy so you two can get ready for the party.” Viper takes a bucket of water and upends it over Kat’s head. She moans but doesn’t move. Viper picks up a vial from the sideboard and runs it under her nose. She tosses her head and coughs.

  “What the hell … ?” Kat tries to sit up. Viper pulls a gun from the small of his back and shoves it in her face. “Listen up, kitty cat. You’re mine now. You’ve got two choices. Play ball or play dead. Which will it be?”

  Kat leans back on her elbows and bares her teeth. “I take it you’re Viper.”

  Viper backhands Kat so hard her head bounces off her shoulder. “Answer me, bitch. Play ball or play dead?” He racks the slide on his huge gun. Kat stares right back at him. She shows no fear. I want to be just like her.

  “Play ball, Viper. You’re the boss.”


  Viper hits her again. Blood gushes from her mouth. She wipes it with the back of her hand. Viper stands.

  “Now that we know who’s boss, let’s get a few things straight. There’s a room full of my men upstairs who you’re going to make very happy. You’ll serve them food and anything else they ask for. No questions. No hesitations. Got it?” Viper looks at Kat. “You’re fair game, and my men know there’s no holds barred.”

  Kat tilts her chin but says nothing. I want to be brave just like her. Viper walks over to me. I manage to straighten my shoulders without wincing.

  “You, my pet, are my special treat.” He removes my restraints and pulls me to a sitting position, legs spread wide.

  “My men can touch you however and wherever they want except …” Before I can react, he jams a finger of one hand in my mouth. Two fingers of the other hand invade my cunt. My teeth clamp down hard. Viper pulls his finger out, shaking his hand.

  “Mother fucker.” He sucks on the offending finger as he crosses to the heavy wooden door. “You won’t have enough energy left to do that by the time my men are through with you. Now, get dressed.” Men’s voices and raucous laughter filter in before the door closes and the lock shoots home.

  Kat sits then drops her head in her hands. I jump down and hobble over to her. “You okay?”

  “Gonna be sick.”

  I grab the garbage can. I hold her hair clear as she vomits. Every single pore in my body screams in agony. I grit my teeth and pull up my big girl pants. I can do this.

  “Thanks, hon.” Kat leans her head back as I place a wet cloth on her forehead. “Well, this sure is a fine mess.” She grimaces as she moves her head. “You handing in there?”

  I gingerly slide down the wall to sit beside her. I bite down hard on my bottom lip to stop the tears from spilling.

  Kat touches my thigh. I yelp. “Ah, sweetie. How bad is it?” she asks.

  “Not that bad. There’s worse to come.” I rest my forehead on my knees as I attend my own private pity party.