Chase You To The Sun

by Jocelyn Han

  “Here we are,” a hollow voice piped up in Russian. “The control room.”

  A door swung open, giving access to a giant sort of cave filled to the brim with control panels, monitors, computers, and wires. Slowly, the group of people apparently getting a tour of the premises poured inside. The man carrying the secret camera came in last. With a shock, Lana recognized the man heading the group of visitors.

  Her dad. It had been his voice.

  “This is where we detonate the controlled explosions to get to the layers of Promethean gemstone. The material we all love so much,” he continued his monologue. “We’ve actually just exposed a new layer of precious stone this morning. Once we get to the working area, you can see how we’re equipping our laborers with materials to excavate the gems.”

  “How do you make sure you don’t damage any of the gemstone layers?” one of the visitors wanted to know.

  “The fissures running through the rocky surface are very narrow,” Mr. Ivanov replied. “Because we calculate the exact spot we need to dig, we only need a little bit of explosive – and some very careful and diligent workers.”

  When they left the room again, the camera briefly zoomed in on a logo on the back of a uniform one of the men was wearing. Lana sucked in her breath when she saw it belonged to UralBank, the largest private bank in the Russian Realm. They shouldn’t even be allowed inside – they were not a part of the government.

  “What are they saying?” Chester hissed.

  “He’s going to show these fat bankers the people who do all the work in his mines,” Bruce replied surmisely. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on the screen.

  Lana froze when the camera image flickered off and then came back on again. The spy working for Bruce had probably switched the set off during their walk down to the mines. Her entire body froze as the camera zoomed in on a long row of tiny, emaciated figures climbing down into a dangerously jagged and narrow fissure by rope ladder. This didn’t compute.

  These weren’t laborers at all.

  They were children.

  “What – who are they?” she croaked, her heart skipping a beat as one of the kids clinging to the ladder turned his head and seemed to shout something at the group of visitors. A plea for help. His sunken eyes begged the onlookers for mercy, for a way out of the darkness.

  “Those are your father’s employees,” Bruce replied, his voice suddenly strangled. “Take a good, long look at what exactly fuels your economy.”

  Lana furiously tried to blink away her tears of shock, focusing on the video footage. How many of these poor children were there? Hundreds. And this was probably just one shift. It was sick. They couldn’t be older than six, maybe seven.

  “This can’t be real,” she whispered. The whole thing would be a crime against humanity if it were. “It’s not real.”

  “If only that were true,” Chester said softly.

  “But how? Why?”

  “The only people small enough to get all the gemstone out of those crevices are children,” Chester explained.

  Something inside of her snapped. No – her father wasn’t capable of doing such things. These people were lying to her. Why would Ivanov Mining Company feel the need to abuse poor, helpless children if there were machines who could do this kind of work? “This is a fake, isn’t it?” she said in a trembling voice. “There was a splice, just now. That first bit was a recording of my father in the control room, and this – this is some kind of bizarre theater piece.” She turned to Bruce, her hands clenched into tight fists. “Why are you doing this to me? You bastard. You terrorize me and then you seduce me and sweet-talk me so I’ll gobble this right up? This nonsense?”

  Bruce stared right back at her, his eyes aflame and sad at the same time. “Lana. Shut up. Don’t be absurd.”

  “No, you shut up,” she screamed hysterically. “You don’t know my dad! You don’t know my family! You killed my mom, and you’re lying to me. You’ve lied about everything.”

  This was insane – the whole situation was. Bruce was screwed in the head. Shou was probably making stuff up about him liking her on purpose, just to confuse her. These pirates were all out to brainwash her into thinking her dad was evil.

  “Miss Ivanova, please stop yelling,” Chester tried to calm her down. Friendly, sympathetic Chester. He was in on it too.

  “I will not,” she replied, her voice cracking on the last word. “Leave me alone, all of you.” She jumped up from her stool, pointing her finger at Bruce, who was sitting there with a pale face. “Most of all you. I never want to see you again, or touch you again, or talk to you. Fuck off.”

  Before anyone could stop her, she made a beeline for the door, kicking it open in blind rage before storming down the hallway. She didn’t slow down and took the stairs two steps at a time, reaching her room just as she heard noises and heavy footfalls downstairs. With trembling hands, she slammed the door shut and typed in the code she’d set for the lock: 3-11-50. They’d have to break down the door lock and all if they wanted to drag her out of here.

  Lana felt her knees buckle as she tried to stand up straight. Sobbing, she sank to the floor, hiding her head in her hands. Oh my God. Why were they doing this to her? Wasn’t it bad enough that she was their prisoner?

  A knock on the door made her look up in a panic. “Go away,” she shouted. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  She froze when someone slipped a pad through the crack under her door. “It’s me,” Hikaru’s muffled voice addressed her. “Bruce wanted you to have this.”

  “I don’t care,” Lana snapped. “I’m not gonna watch his stupid, fake movie clip.”

  “I suggest you do,” Hikaru urged her quietly. “You were the one asking to see those recordings. Remember that.”

  Lana’s breath hitched in her throat. It was true – Bruce hadn’t offered to show them to her until she’d asked. In fact, he’d only told her about the slaves in the Ivanov Mines after she’d asked him to tell her what problem he had with her father. And even then, he hadn’t mentioned they were children. She closed her eyes, exhaling raggedly. “Maybe I should,” she mumbled.

  There was no reply. Apparently, Hikaru had left her alone, just like she wanted.

  Lana didn’t know how long she sat there, curled up into a ball, staring miserably at the pad in front of her. She remained sitting on the floor until her muscles ached and her stomach started to rumble. Moving slowly, she got up and stumbled to her bedside table, where she found some cookies she’d been saving. Chewing on them didn’t make the hollow feeling in her entire body go away, though.

  She ate all four of them. Only then did she crawl back to the spot where Hikaru had slipped the pad under the door and picked up the device.

  The start-up screen had no icons to set up a call or connect to the network. Of course not. They weren’t stupid. The only thing on there was a shortcut to a movie file. With a trip-hammering heart, Lana swallowed down the lump in her throat and pressed play.

  The same images of her father in the control room flashed by in front of her eyes. The same walk down the obscure corridor, and then the time lapse, the recording skipping to the scene of the malnourished children climbing down the frayed rope ladder.

  She gasped when the camera swerved up again to reveal her father and three UralBank employees standing by the crevice, peering down into the dark cleft. They were gesturing at each other, some inaudible conversation passing between them. And then her father smiled at the bankers, and looked down once more. He was sending those children down, possibly to their deaths, and he did it with a smile.

  A ragged cry tore out of her. Before she fully realized what she was doing, Lana forcefully chucked the pad across the room. It skidded to a stop next to the window, hitting the radiator with a clunk. The screen flickered off, but the image reel in her mind wouldn’t shut down.

  It had to be true. The footage seemed genuine. And Hikaru was right – why would Bruce go through all this trouble just to c
onvince her that Ivanov Mining Industries policies were despicable and immoral?

  “No,” she whispered, rocking back and forth on her heels, hugging her knees. “No, no, no, no, please.” Like an unstoppable force, Bruce had destroyed her safe little world, turned it upside down, exposed it for what it was. “No,” she suddenly howled at the top of her lungs.

  The real criminal was her own dad.

  15.

  The dark force field around the house had already come down by the time Lana stumbled to the door at last. If she ever wanted to use the toilet or eat again, she’d have to go out – there was no way around it.

  After typing in the code for the lock, she carefully pushed down the handle and opened the door to a crack. The hallway was empty and dark. Maybe she could manage to quickly rush to the bathroom and use the toilet without anyone noticing. That still didn’t solve the problem of her imminent lack of food, but she was sure she could endure hunger a lot better than a full bladder.

  Lana snuck down the hallway, soundlessly slipping into the nearest bathroom. After locking the door, she used the toilet without flushing and stared at herself in the mirror in the semi-darkness. Man, she looked like shit. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin was sallow – she was completely washed out. If Bruce put her in front of a video screen to talk to her dad right now, he’d probably blow up the engines of all his cargo ships single-handedly just to get her out of this place.

  Her father loved her. He was a good man – he had to be. And yet, he’d condoned terrible things. In the end, nothing was as black-and-white as it had always seemed.

  Her heart stopped when she heard voices drifting up from the stairwell. Were they coming to drag her out of her room? Lana yanked the bathroom door open and pelted down the hallway, keeping her eyes fixed on the door to her safe, quiet room. She’d lock the door as soon as she was inside.

  “Hold it.” The sound of his dark, gravelly voice almost made her trip over her own feet. Lana turned her head and spotted Bruce standing at the top of the stairs, his arms crossed over his bare chest and his mouth set in a grim line. Maybe he’d been on his way to the bathroom too. He was already dressed for bed.

  With a sinking feeling, Lana realized Bruce was probably livid. He was going to murder her. Give her a good beating, at the very least. All those things she’d said to him in front of his men – they were inexcusable. The fear coursing through her body paralyzed her mind, but somehow made her run faster at the same time. Panting, she made a desperate run for her door, knowing full well she couldn’t outrun him. It took him only a couple of long, brisk strides to end up at her room at the same time she did.

  “I told you I don’t want to talk to you.” It was almost as if someone else was speaking the words. Lana bit her lower lip in horror, afraid of what else might come out of her mouth if she didn’t sink her teeth into it.

  Bruce cornered her and slipped his enormous hands around her upper arms. He then pushed her against the door, his grip like a vise. Strangely enough, he didn’t say anything – his eyes just scanned her distraught face in silence. Under his quiet gaze, she slowly felt hot anger at what he’d done to her safe and familiar world flare up.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed violently.

  He surprised her by actually releasing her arms and taking a step back. “I’m coming in to talk,” he said calmly.

  “Well, you’re not welcome.” On top of destroying the special bond she’d always felt with her father, this man had also fucked her without even bothering to stick around for a few minutes afterwards. She didn’t want him anywhere near her.

  Bruce raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that,” he said, pushing the door open and forcibly shoving her inside before stepping in himself.

  Lana looked up at him, her heart in her throat as he closed the door and then stared down at her, towering over her tiny frame like a looming, dark, avenging angel.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” she insisted, despite the terror lancing through her body and a faint, little voice nagging at her brain that she wasn’t being fair to this man.

  His face darkened. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.”

  Slowly, he stepped closer, driving her back against the wall. “Well,” he said at last. “Maybe you have something to give to me, then.” He sounded so predatory all of a sudden that it made her stomach twist with fear.

  “No,” she whispered. “Please. It has to stop.”

  Bruce raised his hand and cupped her cheek in his large, warm palm. “It’s not your call.”

  Lana swallowed hard. “I told you to leave me alone,” she wavered, her voice rising anxiously in her throat.

  He barked out a harsh laugh. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not in my house. Not after that stunt you pulled this afternoon. If you were any of the men downstairs, you’d be in the hospital right now.” She shivered with fear when Bruce slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her so close to him she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “So if you refuse to talk to me about what happened today, I can think of something else you can do for me, blossom.”

  “Let go of me,” she pleaded, trying to push him off. “I changed my mind. You – you're not respecting my wishes.”

  He scoffed. “Look, Lana, I've been a good boy so far. You think this is me being disrespectful? I could show you some real disrespect, little girl.”

  Lana’s heart skipped a beat. “What – what do you mean?” she squeaked.

  His mouth twitched with scorn. “Meaning, I could have had my way with you the minute I made you a prisoner in my house. Every way I wanted. Any time I wanted.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” The words were out before she could stop them.

  He hesitated for a second, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I want you now, and I’ll take what I want.”

  Lana felt her knees give way. “Please don't,” she whispered.

  A contemptuous smile pulled at his mouth. “Oh, come on now,” he said, moving in so close that Lana stopped breathing, staring up at him with eyes full of terror. She trembled when his warm breath brushed the side of her face and his fingers traced patterns across the sensitive skin of her lower back. Even though his words had made it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer, his hands were still trying to tempt her into saying yes. Lana blushed hotly, cursing her treacherous body for responding to his nearness like this.

  Bruce smiled down on her, his face inches away from hers. He knew what this was doing to her. Lana gasped when his hand gently rubbed her abdomen before hitching up the short skirt she was wearing today. He trailed down to the warm spot between her legs. Bruce's fingers lightly touched her pussy through her underwear, making her quiver with need. “Are you creaming yourself yet?” he whispered, his breath quickening. “Or do you need some help?”

  Before she could utter a word, his index finger slipped behind the lace of her thong, dipping into the warm, wet cleft of her cunt. Bruce chuckled darkly. “Changed your mind, huh?” he said sarcastically.

  “Please don’t force me,” she stammered, genuinely shocked. “You're not like that.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I am like that. Stop thinking of me as a good guy who is a bit rough around the edges. I'm not a nice guy. Everybody knows that. I really don't know why you insist on being late to the party.”

  When Bruce grabbed her wrists, Lana tried to resist, but he was so strong that she might as well not have protested. He dragged her across the room and flung her down on the bed. She desperately tried to scramble away, but Bruce immediately pinned her to the mattress with his heavy, muscular body. “You're not going anywhere,” he said evenly, the look on his face so intimidating that Lana felt a surge of panic rising in her chest.

  “I – no, Bruce. Please let’s talk about this,” she beseeched him. “I'm sorry, okay? I am.”

  He slightly loosened his grip on her wrists, narrowing his eyes at her. “Oh, so now you want to talk?”
he sneered.

  She tried to blink away her tears. “Yes. Please listen. I was out of line. I was upset with you for telling me the truth, and that’s not fair. You're – right. I couldn’t take it. I still can’t.”

  He watched her silently as she broke down into quiet sobs.

  “I know I'm a coward,” Lana sniffed. “I just – I don’t know what to do.” She stared up at the man holding her down, her lower lip trembling and her breathing too fast.

  Bruce observed her intensely, his eyes softening. “Are you serious?” he said hoarsely.

  “Yes.” She gulped down the lump in her throat. “So please stop punishing me like this. I don't want it to be like this.”

  Bruce held perfectly still. The only part of his body still moving was his chest, rising and falling with deep breaths. When he finally moved again, he released one of her wrists and trailed his warm hand down her side, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her skirt. “Take off your panties,” he mumbled slowly.

  Even though he didn’t stop, the atmosphere had changed between them. He was no longer really forcing her. Somehow, she'd succeeded in making him listen to her.

  Lana let out a shaky sigh as she lifted her bum and obediently pulled down her thong with one hand. He assisted her, pulling it over her knees and dumping it by the side of the bed. Since he was only wearing pajama bottoms, it took him all but two seconds to take out his cock, maneuvering it against her slick hole. “Spread for me,” he whispered in her ear. “Wide.”

  Lana stifled a cry when he pushed into her, so hot and hard that it still somehow felt like punishment. Bruce groaned as he buried himself inside her, his balls already tight against her wetness. “God, you feel good,” he moaned. “I could devour you.” She could feel how he stretched her and filled her up, slickly grinding into her taut hole in a fast and pounding rhythm.

  He clearly wasn’t holding back this time. Lana cried out in pain when he grabbed her knee and lifted up her leg all the way, resting her calf on his shoulder while slamming into her. “Slow down,” she panted. “Please.”