Little Bird (The Tangled Series)

by Gaines, Liza

  “And what’s in it for you?” Cara gave him a wary look, evidently smart enough to realize this was too easy.

  “Her.” Hartwell nodded in Savannah’s direction.

  Before anyone else could say anything Lee had grabbed Savannah’s arm, hauling her to her feet. “Time to go, sweetheart.”

  Hartwell’s eyes slid to Victor and Julian before settling on Lee again. “I urge you to reconsider, Mr. Jackson. Julian won’t miss this time, not at such close range.”

  Savannah’s breath caught and she sat down hard in the chair, her teeth chattering as she tried to keep from panicking.

  “This is ridiculous. You know I can’t do something like that.” Cara drew Hartwell’s attention back to her, exasperated.

  “You don’t have much choice, Ms. Dalton. Not really. Because I can’t allow you to continue to snoop around in my business. So either you agree to my offer or I’ll kill you all.”

  What frightened Savannah most was the way Hartwell seemed so calm, threatening to kill them as if it were something he did every day between lunch and his afternoon game of golf. Then again, for all she knew, he did.

  “It isn’t even a good faith offer. Even if I agreed, neither of them would.” Cara gestured to Lee and Savannah.

  “I’m sorry to hear you say that. It’s settled then.” Hartwell turned to Lee again, smiling. “I had thought if it came to this I would kill you first, Mr. Jackson. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass. But I realize now it might be more fun to wait, let you witness all the unspeakable things I’m going to do to your sweet little wife. Let you die knowing exactly how she suffered and there was nothing you could do to stop it.”

  Savannah’s breathing accelerated at Hartwell’s ugly threats. Lee grabbed her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and she felt the terror recede a little. He was here with her and she had to trust they would get out of this together. The alternative was too terrible to consider.

  Hartwell stood and turned in Victor’s direction, waving his arm. “We’ll move to the game room and finish our business there.”

  Victor grabbed Cara’s arm, pushing her out of the room and down the hall ahead of him, his gun drawn and pointed at the ceiling. The rest of them followed with Julian bringing up the rear.

  The game room turned out to be a large, unfinished recreational room set up as a home dungeon. Hartwell and his friends had every toy and piece of BDSM furniture available; it was just as well stocked as the club.

  Once everyone was inside, Julian closed the door and directed Lee and Todd to sit down on the couch across from the door. Cara followed Hartwell to the center of the room but Savannah stood in front of the couch, her legs between Lee’s knees.

  Hartwell noticed she wasn’t following and sighed. “Over here, bitch. Now.”

  Savannah remained still, stubbornly pretending she hadn’t heard him, her eyes locked with Lee’s. He’d made quite clear what he intended to do to her and she had no intentions of helping him.

  “You, stand there.” Hartwell glared at Cara as he pointed to a spot in the center of the room before turning and stalking to Savannah. Grabbing her by the hair and dragging her across the room he shoved her against Cara so both women stumbled.

  Turning to Julian, who still stood in front of the closed door, Hartwell growled, “Julian, for fuck’s sake keep your gun on Mr. Jackson and his friend. If either of them so much as blinks in a way you don’t like, kill them. Victor, you stand here between them and me. Keep your gun on them, too. They’re all going to die eventually anyway so don’t worry about an itchy trigger finger.”

  Savannah stood in the center of the room next to Cara, a jolt of surprise making her jump when she felt Cara take her hand, lacing their fingers together. Ah, well, at least she wasn’t the only one who was afraid. Her eyes swept the room, finding Lee. He was furious, his teeth gritted, and he watched Hartwell’s every move with the intensity of a lion stalking his prey. But he had two guns trained on him and both of them appeared eager to pull the trigger. Savannah’s stomach tied itself in knots as she tried to imagine how they would ever get out of this.

  “Lee will get us out of this, Little Bird. It’s going to be okay.” Cara whispered against her ear and Savannah nodded weakly in response, although she didn’t think Cara sounded all that confident.

  “Boss?” It was Victor, waving his gun in Lee’s direction. “Maybe we should tie them up or something?

  “No need for all that. You have guns for fucks sake! Just shoot them if they make a move.” Hartwell snorted and turned to Lee. “Now, Mr. Jackson, don’t you think it would be fun to watch your ex-wife and current wife play together?”

  Savannah was stunned when Lee nodded but then had to smother a nervous giggle when he replied, “That just might be every man’s fantasy. Anyway, it’s certainly preferable to watching you touch either of them.”

  Hartwell scowled at him and turned back to Savannah and Cara, who were still standing together, holding hands. “Let’s see a little kiss, then.”

  Savannah gathered her courage and glared at Hartwell. “Fuck off.”

  He looked surprised, his eyes wide, so she elaborated, “You’ve already said you’re going to kill us all anyway. So, kill me now for failure to cooperate or kill me later after I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Either way I’m still dead so I might as well go out with some small shred of my dignity left.”

  Cara’s arms went around Savannah, holding her tight as Hartwell lunged. He grabbed a fistful of Savannah’s hair and pried her from Cara’s grasp. He gave Cara a hard shove, pushing her to the ground and as she fell, Savannah watched with horror as Cara hit her head on the sturdy leg of a St. Andrew’s cross and crumpled limply to the ground.

  Ignoring Cara, Hartwell pulled Savannah a few feet away, where a length of rope lay coiled on the ground. He tied her wrists together with one end of the rope and Savannah gasped as he gave a hard pull, making sure it was secure. Looking up she watched as he threw the other end in the air looping it over one of the exposed log beams. Grabbing the end again as it came back down, Hartwell gave it a hard jerk and Savannah found herself on her tiptoes, like she’d been the night they’d seen him at the club.

  Hartwell tied off the rope somewhere behind her as he said, “Now, we’ll see how brave you are when you don’t have your Master at your back to give you courage.”

  Hartwell came to stand behind her and she felt his hands on her ass, roughly squeezing and groping her through her dress. Savannah gritted her teeth, determined to silently endure it. Hartwell, apparently disappointed by her lack of response, slid his hands along her sides and in front of her, his fingers cupping her breasts. Savannah held her breath, trying to hold back her tears as her eyes found Lee. But he wasn’t looking at her; he watched Hartwell, his eyes focused with laser-like precision on the Senator’s hands as he pinched her nipples and tugged on her piercing, the thin fabric of her clothing offering her little protection.

  “Mm, such lovely tits and those rings are so much fun.” Hartwell pushed his hand inside the neckline of her dress, shoving her bra down and yanking on one piercing. Savannah did cry out then, tears spilling down her cheeks. She wrapped her hands in the rope above her head, pulling. She knew the rope was strong and she was held fast but she was desperate to get away from him, willing to try anything no matter how hopeless it seemed.

  Releasing her breast and pulling his hand from her dress, Hartwell pulled up her skirt, a delighted laugh escaping his lips when he realized Savannah wasn’t wearing panties. Savannah kicked herself for forgetting that fact herself. If only she’d have remembered, she’d have put panties on before they left camp, but she hadn’t thought of it, probably because she was too panicked about this situation already.

  Hartwell spanked her viciously three times with his bare hand, her body convulsing with pain as he focused the attack so each hit landed in the same place, intensifying the force on her sensitive skin. Screaming, Savannah writhed a
gainst the rope, her voice hoarse as she struggled.

  Hartwell laughed and he moved to stand in front of her. Savannah kept her eyes locked on Lee’s face as she wept loudly and the Senator held her skirt up, rubbing himself against her. When she felt his erection through his pants, grinding against her mound, she screamed louder, no longer able to contain her sheer terror. She knew her chances of getting out of this were slim, knew she was probably going to die tonight, but she prayed to every god she’d ever heard of he wouldn’t rape her first. In her frightened mind she could accept death, would prefer it even to being violated by him.

  “Are you so fucking cowardly you have to force yourself on a helpless woman? I’m the one who told you no. You’re pissed at me, not her. Leave her the fuck alone and come face me like a goddamn man.” Lee’s voice was full of rage; nonetheless it was soothing to Savannah.

  “Now it’s my turn to tell you no. How does it feel to be so helpless when someone else has something you want?” Hartwell tucked the hem of her skirt into her neckline, effectively keeping it out of his way. He then released her just long enough to open his pants, his cock springing out and brushing against her belly. “Open your legs, slut.”

  Savannah didn’t answer, grunting with effort as she struggled desperately against him. The feel of his erection rubbing against her bare stomach made her feel sick and even worse, she could feel him growing harder as she fought. The sick bastard liked that she fought back.

  “I swear on my life if you do this, I will kill you.” The rage was gone now, replaced by a deadly calm as Lee watched Hartwell wrestle with Savannah.

  “Those are brave words for a man with two guns pointed at him.” Hartwell laughed gruffly as he tried to subdue Savannah, slapping her hard across the face. “I told you to spread your whore legs!”

  Savannah’s vision blurred with the force of the hit, the wind knocked out of her. Gasping and choking for breath, she could feel Hartwell urgently trying to force his way between her legs. She focused all of her energy on firmly clamping her thighs together, determined to prevent his entry. Hartwell slapped her again, growling, “You will open your fucking legs for me the way you opened them for him!”

  Savannah raised her eyes, meeting his with a defiant glare, and spit in his face. Hartwell’s complexion went purple with rage. He wiped one hand over his face before slapping her for the third time.

  He stalked off behind her. A moment later, she felt the tension on her arms slacken, and then he was back, pulling the rope down from the ceiling and hauling her behind him as he crossed the room. Hartwell walked fast, pulling hard on the rope, and Savannah lost her balance, catching herself on her hip when she fell. But still he didn’t stop, dragging her across the floor until he stood in front of Lee. Looping the rope around the base of a sturdy rack, he tied it securely and leered down at her. Savannah lay on her back, her body just out of reach and perpendicular to Lee where he sat on the couch, her hands tied above her head. Hartwell had intentionally positioned her so Lee would be able to see every touch and every thrust as he raped her.

  Hartwell straddled her, his erection lying against her stomach as he reached up, tearing the top of her dress open and yanking her bra down to expose her chest. Leaning over her, he abused her breasts, biting and slapping them cruelly. With each of her screams, Savannah felt his cock twitch and she shuddered with loathing.

  “You will open your legs if I have to pry them open and tie them that way.” Hartwell grunted as he tried to force himself between her legs again, his erection pressing against her thighs. She crossed her ankles, holding her legs firmly together, but he was stronger than she was and would win in the end. She started bucking her hips wildly, trying to throw him off but that only seemed to encourage him. “That’s right, you want it, you dirty fucking slut. Fight against me all you want, but your bucking hips tell me all I need to know. You want it and you’ll like it.”

  Savannah closed her eyes, fighting for all she was worth, knowing it was only a matter of time before Hartwell would tie her ankles and pry her legs open. Her determination flagged. She was tired and in pain. He was going to win anyway. Maybe it would be better to just give up. But before she could even finish the thought she heard Lee grunt and her eyes flew open, watching as he launched himself at Hartwell, hitting him in the chest with his shoulder. As Lee and Hartwell fell backward together she heard a gunshot and Savannah screamed in horror. Blood bloomed on the thigh of Lee’s pants.

  Todd sprang from the couch only a fraction of a second after Lee, barreling into Victor with enough force to knock him from his feet. Todd subdued him quickly, recovering his gun, but not before Julian got another shot off, this time blood coloring the side of Lee’s shirt over his ribs. Lee had maneuvered himself on top of Hartwell, pummeling him ruthlessly with his fists, and didn’t even seem to realize he’d been shot not once but twice.

  Todd had one arm around Victor’s neck, the man’s face going purple as Todd methodically choked him, and he quickly squeezed off two shots with Victor’s gun. The first went wide but the second hit Julian squarely in the shoulder and the man crumpled to the ground with a groan. Todd crossed to Julian, dragging Victor with him. Bending to pick up Julian’s gun, Todd tucked it in the waistband of his pants and quickly cuffed the two henchmen to a chair before gagging them both. Savannah choked on her own deranged laughter as she thought that was a nice advantage of BDSM, there were always plenty of cuffs and gags around.

  Todd turned back to Lee and Hartwell, frowning. “That’s enough, brother. It’s over.” When Lee didn’t respond, or even appear to hear him, Todd stepped behind him and grabbed the collar of his shirt, hauling him off the senator. “Jesus, that’s enough. You’re going to kill the motherfucker.”

  “That was the plan.” Lee grunted as he wiped blood from his nose. “Let the fuck go of me.”

  Todd chuckled and let go of Lee’s shirt. “I’ll untie Savannah.”

  “No.” Lee’s voice was harsh as he climbed to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. “I’ll get her. Tie the fucking bastard up or shoot him or something, and then go check on Cara.”

  Lee limped toward her and Savannah sobbed as she watched the blood spread down his pants leg and over his shirt. When he reached her side, he awkwardly went down on his good knee, holding the wounded leg straight to the side, as he leaned over her and untied her wrists. Gathering Savannah against his chest, Lee pulled her into his lap as he sat down, smoothing her hair with one hand and holding her tightly against him.

  “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s over. I’m right here.” She sobbed against his chest as he soothed her, whispering tenderly against her ear. “I’ve got you, Little Bird. It’s all right.”

  “Oh, God.” Savannah gasped as she felt the bile rise in her throat. “Levon, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Lee laughed softly and stretched his arm behind him, wincing with the movement. Finding the trashcan at the end of the couch, he pulled it around in front of them. Savannah leaned forward, retching into the can as he held her hair and quietly reassured her.

  While Savannah heaved over the can, Todd tied and gagged Hartwell and then helped Cara, who was now awake, over to the couch. Finding a towel, he gestured toward Savannah as he tossed it at Lee, who caught it with one hand. When she leaned back against his chest again, he used the towel to wipe her mouth. Todd came to remove the trashcan, but Savannah shook her head, only able to mumble she wasn’t sure she was finished.

  “Cara, you need to go find whatever it is you need, because we have to get the fuck out of here.” Lee glanced over his shoulder at Cara and then turned to Todd. “Go help her. We need to get out of here fast. I’m bleeding all the fuck over the place and there is no telling when George or Harry might show up.”

  “I assume you know how to use this if you get in trouble.” Todd handed one of the guns to Cara, before turning to Lee with a shake of his head. “I’m staying. Between your bleeding and her puking, neither of you is in much
of a position to defend yourselves. Besides, I can put a bandage on that leg so you don’t bleed to death just sitting there like an idiot.”

  Savannah moaned weakly at Todd’s last comment and leaned forward again, retching into the can. Lee glared at him as he rubbed her back. “I’m not going to die, sweetheart. He’s just being a dick.”

  Cara rushed from the room while Todd and Lee carefully moved Savannah so she sat on Lee’s right leg, leaning over his arm to heave into the can. With Lee’s left leg now free, Todd carefully wrapped it with another towel he’d found, applying firm pressure to slow the blood loss. Lee grunted when he pulled the towel tight but made no comment. Todd narrowed his eyes and said, “Sorry, brother. Not much I can do about your side.”

  Lee just shrugged and wiped Savannah’s face with the towel again when she had finished being sick.

  “Feel better now, sweetheart?” Lee gave her a tired smile as his hand settled on her stomach. When Savannah nodded weakly, he moved his thumb over her belly and kissed the tip of her nose before saying, “Do you know I’ve never loved you more than when you spit in that bastard’s face?”

  The sound of her own laugh surprised her as she leaned into Lee’s shoulder. “I couldn’t let him…” Savannah’s voice trailed off, her laughter fading, and she hiccupped through her tears.

  Lee kissed her temple and leaned back against the couch behind him. “Don’t say it, Savannah. Don’t even think about it. He didn’t and he won’t ever. I’ll keep you safe always, Little Bird. I promise. Now rest for a bit while we wait for Cara. I…” Lee’s voice caught a little as he sighed, “I need to rest.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  BREAKING NEWS: SENATOR CHARLES HARTWELL MISSING AND PRESUMED DEAD

  By Nell Tucker for The Washington Post Online

  Senator Charles Hartwell, (R-Texas), has gone missing, according to top aides. Hartwell, who had been a pilot during the Vietnam war, and Sandra, his wife of 43 years, were reportedly flying his private jet from Washington, DC en route to Bermuda for a short vacation when he lost control of the 5-passenger Piper Cheyenne Saturday afternoon. The Coast Guard and the United States Navy are searching the waters in the area the flight is believed to have gone down but have found no signs of the Hartwell’s or the plane.