by Loki Renard
“Apologize to the lady first,” he commanded.
There was a very brief hesitation, and then they obeyed.
“Sorry, Miss Taylor-Chapman,” the middle man said. The others rumbled words that might have been apologies. She didn’t really understand them and truthfully, she didn’t believe them. The fear they’d put deep into her belly wasn’t going away with a couple of gritted ‘sorry’s.
They left the apartment, but Mason remained, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite parse. He seemed angry, though she didn’t know if it was at her, or the men, or Aiden…
“I told you to come back,” he ground out. “You didn’t listen.”
Instantly defensive, she threw an accusation right back at him. “You sent men after me! With guns!”
“Those weren’t my men, Ellie.”
“Then why did they listen to you?”
His glower did not abate one bit. “Unlike you, they know when it’s best to listen.”
She stared at him, confused. “They were going to shoot me, or hurt me, or do something… and they just… stopped when you came in. There’s no way they don’t know who you are.”
“I didn’t say they don’t know who I am. I said they weren’t my men.”
“Well, whose men were they?”
“That’s not your concern to worry about. Pack some things, Ellie. You’re coming with me.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re not safe anymore. Because your brother has managed to save his skin for another day, and put yours on the line instead. Now do as I say, Ellie. Pack whatever you’re going to need, whatever you don’t want to lose.”
“Whatever I don’t want to lose?”
“This apartment is likely to get a lot of visitors soon,” he said. “And not all of them will be as respectful as your first guests.”
“I don’t want to lose any of this though!”
She had closets full of clothes and shoes, none of which she’d happily sacrifice.
“Anything you don’t have in hand in two minutes is getting left behind.”
He was being unfair, but she didn’t have time to complain about that. She had the feeling he was serious, and she didn’t want to be dragged out of her apartment leaving everything behind. Elliot ran to the bedroom, pulled out a suitcase and started throwing clothes and shoes into it.
“You’re not going to need much in the way of clothing,” he said, following after her. “I was meaning things like your passport, money, credit cards, things of that nature.”
“You told me to take what I didn’t want to lose… there’s a lot I don’t want to lose.”
He strode across the room, took her by the hand, and tugged her away from the case. “We’re leaving that behind,” he said firmly. “Where’s your passport?”
“I don’t know! Who knows where their passport is? Why do I need my passport?”
“Getting you out of the country could be a very good idea,” he said. “Where is it?”
“Maybe in a drawer?”
“Which drawer?”
She looked at him blankly. She’d last used her passport on a trip to Nice, and she couldn’t remember where she’d put it when she came back.
“I mean, I think, hmm… I mean… hmm… It’s…” She pointed her finger around the room, gesturing to somewhere in the house.
He grabbed her purse and rifled through it.
“Hey! Stop that!”
He pulled out a slim blue booklet and waggled it at her. “This is what we need. We’re going.”
“No! Just let me…”
He grabbed her by the hand and strode toward the door. She was forced to trot after him, his long legs outpacing her easily.
“Mason! Hey! Mason! We have to call the superintendent. I can’t just leave my apartment open like this, people are going to freak out!”
He stopped and turned toward her, pulling her close, speaking in a harsh whisper. “Elliot, your life is in danger,” he growled. “People freaking out is the very least of your concerns.”
She stared at him with a blank horror. “Why is my life in danger?
“Because Aiden’s never met a mess he couldn’t turn into a disaster,” Mason growled. “Let’s go.”
They rode down to the parking lot, where Mason’s car was parked next to hers, a sleek black Maserati crouching like a prowling cat in the midst of the other vehicles. Compared to that, her Audi looked about as sexy as a bus. He opened the passenger door for her and ushered her in, his hand on the small of her back.
“Watch your head,” he said, sounding like a police officer as he guided her down into the low seat.
Elliot eased herself in and sat there sullenly, clutching her purse as he walked around the car. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew she didn’t like it.
“Seat belt on,” he said as he got into the driver’s seat.
She did as she was told, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t even have a change of underwear with her, though she supposed she could always buy more. Still, it was an inconvenience. He could at least have let her pack an overnight bag. No emergency was so dire that a woman shouldn’t be able to get her cosmetics. She had some lipstick and mascara in her purse for touch-ups, but that wasn’t going to get her very far.
Her mind filled with minutiae, she was vaguely aware that she should be freaking out about the men who had seemed to be on the verge of shooting her, but it was easier to think about her underwear and makeup and, well, anything else other than the fact that she was in trouble.
As they were pulling out of the garage, two black SUVs with fully tinted windows pulled in. They were rolling at a decent speed, but they slowed to a menacing crawl as Mason’s Maserati pulled past them, then out and into the thick flow of traffic.
“Just in time,” Mason murmured under his breath.
“Who was that?”
“People you don’t need to know. People you should never have known about at all,” he said, his jaw clenched in a way that showed he was still irritated, probably at her. She didn’t like that. It made her feel uncomfortable and guilty and small. So she started an argument.
“You followed me home.”
“Actually, they followed you home,” he said. “I saw them following you as they left, so I had your address looked up and went there, hoping you’d gone home. You’re lucky you did. You’ve been leading a conga line of gangsters across the city, Elliot. You have got to start being more aware of who is around you.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t raised to have to watch my back every two seconds like some people.”
“You were raised to be a spoiled little brat,” he growled under his breath. “An ungrateful one too.”
“I’m not ungrateful!”
“Aren’t you?” He shot a brief, piercing look at her. “I haven’t heard a single expression of gratitude from you yet.”
Maybe he had a point. If not for him… she couldn’t even bring herself to think about what would have happened if not for him.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. “For saving me from those men.”
Another one of those quick whipping gazes came searing across the car at her. He made a soft grunting sound, but didn’t acknowledge her comment further. It had come a bit late, she supposed. Probably would have sounded more genuine if she’d said it before being prompted.
“I am actually grateful,” she added, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m just… I’m in shock. I can’t believe things are really this bad. “
“We’ll talk when we get to my place,” he said, indicating onto the motorway.
She was silent for a time, until she noticed that they were definitely heading out of the city. The traffic started to thin a little as the motorway lead onto the highway. Mason increased his speed a little and the purr of the Maserati’s engines lowered to a delicious baritone.
“Where are we going?”
“To my place.”
“You don’t liv
e in the city?”
“I have a place in the city, but I don’t want you there right now. We’re going to need a little more space and a lot more privacy.”
“For what?”
He didn’t reply. He didn’t even look at her. He kept his eyes on the road as they sped away from the danger of the city to… what? She didn’t know.
“This isn’t going to be… what you talked about in your office, right?”
“We’ll talk about it when we get home.”
Chapter Two
It turned out that Mason lived half an hour out of the city, behind great gates, in a house at the end of a great sweeping drive that extended well into the countryside. There was security at the gate, a man in a booth, and she was pretty sure she saw some officers with dogs walking the distant walled perimeter.
“Jesus, Mav, what is this place? Feels like a fancy prison.”
“Used to be a reformatory,” he said as they swung up in front of an imposing building. “Still might be.”
“What?” She gave him a questioning look, but the comment seemed to have been in service of his own amusement rather than for her benefit.
He opened the car door for her and she swung her legs out, rising gracefully to look at the house. It was about four stories high, and built like, well, a really ornate fortress. The windows, especially on the top levels, were rather narrow and shuttered. It had been constructed by people who clearly wanted security and style in equal measure. It was built from gray stone blocks that made the imposing building seem even more solid and unmoving against the landscape.
“What kind of reformatory was it?”
“Used to be that the daughters of the wealthy would sometimes find themselves in need of a guiding hand. So, about a hundred years ago, a man named Robert J. Birch opened this facility. It was referred to as a finishing school for the wayward in its time.”
“Huh,” she said.
“I’ve updated it, of course,” he said. “Wood rots. You need steel to attach rings and restraints properly.”
“You turned out to be one sick puppy, Mav!” She laughed, but he didn’t. There was a look in his eye, a possessive, protective, commanding look that made her almost certain he was serious. Her tummy started to flutter again and she found herself biting her lower lip, smearing her makeup.
“You’ll learn soon enough.” He slid his hand behind her back. “Come in, Ellie.”
Indoors, the place had been obviously modernized. It was stunning, even by Elliot’s standards, which were high. There was very little ornate about the place; it was clean and masculine, but beautiful. The walls were slate gray with white trim here and there. Art hung on the dark walls came to fresh life, the colors more vibrant, the shapes more stunning against the shadowy backdrop. The floors were polished timber; her shoes made a clicking sound against as she walked across them.
“It’s nice,” she said as he guided her into a large lounge in which a fireplace was lit, throwing warm light over a thick, luxurious-looking room. The couches were large and of brown leather, there were side tables and bookcases and paintings that looked like they were from important artists. She’d developed a sense for that over the years, and if she was right, she was sure the room alone was furnished with more money than most people earned in their entire existences. Just one of those paintings would probably cover Aiden’s debts several times over, she mused to herself as he drew her toward the couch and bade her sit.
“Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?”
“I’m not hungry, Mav,” she said, crossing her legs. “I’m annoyed. You’ve taken me all the way out here without telling me what’s going on. I mean, you’ve practically kidnapped me!”
“And there’s that gratitude again,” he frowned, folding his arms over his chest. “I haven’t kidnapped you, Ellie. I’ve taken you out of harm’s way. And I’m going to keep you safe whether you like it or not.”
She cut her eyes at him. “So after all these years, you’ve got me right where you always wanted me. Dependent on you.”
“Yes,” he said, with a roll of his eyes. “After all these years, my plan to have Aiden turn into a junkie and your parents be nowhere to help you when criminals show up at your door ready to do you harm has finally come to fruition. Are you really going to blame me for this, Elliot? Are you really that spoiled and self-centered?”
His words were like lashes across her soul. He was right. Of course he was right. But it was easier to make him the villain than to admit to herself that she’d been abandoned and all the money and influence she had meant precisely nothing when the underworld came knocking.
She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mav,” she said in a soft whisper laced with the threat of tears.
He let out a sigh and sat next to her, his large hand reaching into her lap to cover hers. “It’s going to be alright, Ellie. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, even if you are a spoiled brat. Someone has to look after you.”
He was so tall, so strong. With him this close to her, she felt protected and sheltered. He’d not only put hundreds of miles between her and the people who wanted to hurt her, he’d put himself in harm’s way for her. He’d defended her, even though he didn’t have any reason to. Mason was a very attractive man with an even more attractive portfolio. She knew how women reacted to men like him. He must have beautiful ladies lined up to warm his bed. And yet he was here, with her. And she didn’t see any sign of other women. Not even a stray lipstick left surreptitiously somewhere to mark territory.
“Do they?” She shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t see why. And I don’t see why it would be you if it had to be someone. I’ve never even been nice to you.”
“True,” Mason agreed.
He didn’t sugar coat the truth, or make excuses for her, or pretend she was something she wasn’t. As galling as that was, she found it an attractive trait. Everyone else she knew was constantly telling her how it was fine for her to do whatever she was doing. Her friends, even her family. But Mason didn’t play that game. He was honest, even when it hurt.
“So why are you helping me?”
“Ellie, I’ve known you most of my life. And Aiden, no matter what he’s become, was good to me when I was young. Really good to me. I owe you both something.”
“So you’re doing this out of obligation?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m doing it because you need what I’m going to give you.”
What I’m going to give you. He said those words with a certain inflection that made her stomach do somersaults. She changed the subject as quickly as possible. “And Aiden?”
“Worry less about Aiden and more about yourself.”
“I don’t care about myself,” she said before really thinking about it. “I care about my brother not dying! Why can’t you just bring him here too?”
“Because Aiden has made his life a lot more complicated than you realize.”
“What? He’s an addict, I know, but…”
“Listen, Elliot. Your brother isn’t just a junkie. In fact, being an addict is the least of his worries. He’s a criminal. Worse, he’s a stupid criminal.”
“Aiden’s not a criminal,” she gasped. “That’s crazy. He just has some issues, that’s all.”
“Issues with staying alive,” Mason rumbled. “He’s been attempting to build an empire on the streets, and it’s not going well.”
“What kind of an empire?”
“Anything he can sell. Drugs, naturally. Women…”
“He sold women? What do you mean?”
“I mean he was running prostitutes,” Mason said bluntly.
Shocked, Ellie rejected the idea out of hand. “You’re lying. Aiden would never do anything like that.”
“Once somebody becomes addicted to something, they become willing to do almost anything to get it. Drugs and girls are easy to sell.”
“He wanted money for drugs?”
�
�He wanted money for money,” Mason said. “I’m sorry, Elliot. I know he’s your brother and you’ll never see him as anything other than that, but to a lot of people, Aiden is the devil. Now he’s gone missing, they’re looking to put pressure on him, and you’re a perfect pressure point.”
“You’re going to help him though, right?”
“No.”
“Please, Mason! If they find him, they’ll kill him!”
“I told you what the price is for me to help him. I’ll help you, Ellie. You can stay here and not have to do a thing, but helping Aiden comes at a price. For both of us.”
She pulled her hands out of his and stared daggers at him. “So if I want you to help him, I have to debase myself. I have to let you treat me like some worthless sex slave. I have to…”
Her tirade was cut off with a strong finger pressed against her lips. She damn near bit it, but the look in his eyes told her that would not be a good idea.
“You don’t know what I want from you yet, not really,” he said. “You’re going to be mine, Ellie. Yes, it will introduce you to the concept of shame, I’m sure. But my intention isn’t to humiliate you. It’s to give you what you need.”
“You think I need to be kept?”
His green gaze captured hers with dominant intensity. “I think you need to be owned.”
She found her breath coming in shallow little gasps. He was literally making it harder to breathe. Suddenly the whole world was him. She was lost in the gaze of this man who was so familiar, and yet a total stranger at the same time.
“I don’t know what that means,” she whimpered.
“I know,” he said. “Let me show you, Ellie.”
“Uhm…”
“On your knees,” he said, pointing to the floor.
“I don’t… what?” She squinted at him in confusion. “You can’t be serious, Mav.”
His hand slid around her neck, his fingers grasped a thick handful of her hair, and he pulled her from the couch, sinking with her until she was kneeling on the floor and he was crouched in front of her on one knee, his grip formidable as she attempted to squirm free.
“You’re going to need a lot of training,” he rumbled. “But this is your first position, Ellie. This is where you’re going to find yourself a great deal of the time as you start to learn what it means to be mine.”
