by Hannah Ford
SHEER TORTURE
(Sheer Submission, Part Seven)
Hannah Ford
Contents
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SHEER TORTURE
SHEER TORTURE
Copyright © 2018 by Hannah Ford
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SHEER TORTURE
(SHEER SUBMISSION, PART SEVEN)
SHEER TORTURE
“Violet!” I shook her hard until her eyes rolled forward in their sockets, slowly returning to normal.
“What’s wrong with her?” Emma asked from the couch, suddenly way more sober than she’d been a minute ago.
“I don’t know, Emma,” I snapped. “I’m not a doctor.”
“I’m okay,” Violet moaned. She was still on the floor, but she was trying to sit up now, and I reached down, hauling her up and helping her onto the sofa.
“What happened?” I asked. I sat down next to her, stroking her hair and trying not to look away from her face in horror. Her bottom lip was split, and the blood had begun to dry and crack. The bruise under her eye was yellow and green, with a tinge of purple that made it clear she was going to have a black eye.
Emma handed Violet the glass of water she’d been drinking. “Here. Have some water.”
Violet looked at it doubtfully.
“It’s fine,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not sick or anything.”
Violet took the water and had a sip, her fingers gripping the glass tightly, her hand shaking.
“Can you tell us what happened?” I asked gently.
Violet took in a shuddering breath. “Conner and I came back to the city.” Her hand wandered up to her shoulder, where the top she was wearing – a black cotton sweatshirt that dipped low over one shoulder – had been ripped. “He had to work, and he wanted me with him.”
I tried not to react to her statement. He wanted me with him.
I resisted the urge to ask her what she wanted, knowing that now wasn’t the time.
“But then as soon as we got back, Conner got called to LA for a meeting,” she said. “He told me I could stay at his apartment while he was gone.”
He told me I could. Jesus, what was with these Sheer brothers and their bossy, controlling attitudes? I felt myself getting annoyed, and I tried to control my emotions. Getting all worked up wasn’t the way to help Violet.
“He left this afternoon. So I worked out at the gym in his apartment, and then I was on my way out to the bodega on the corner.” Violet’s fingers twisted together, her hands shaking. “I wanted some ice cream, but before I could get there, I felt like someone was following me.” Her hands twisted tighter. “A man, wearing a black leather jacket.”
A black leather jacket.
Landon.
Bile rose in my throat and my stomach knotted.
“He was behind me, and he just…he was making me uncomfortable, you know? And so I crossed the street, hoping he would pass by. But he didn’t.” Her eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked.
“It’s okay,” I soothed, rubbing her back. “It’s okay.”
“I ducked into a bar,” Violet said. “Because I wanted to get away from him, and I figured if he wanted to do something, he wouldn’t do it in front of a bunch of people. But he kept following me all the way through the bar, until finally we were in the back, by the restrooms.”
Her eyes went glassy now, remembering, and my heart squeezed. I reached for her hand. It was cold and limp in mine, and I rubbed it, trying to warm her up.
“I was trapped. So I ducked into this door marked employees only. I thought there would be people in there, but it was a women’s room. A bathroom.” She licked her bottom lip, wincing as she tasted the blood. “He followed me in there, and he… he slammed me up against the wall. He had a gun.”
Emma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, but I stayed silent, biting the inside of my cheek, fighting to stay calm.
“He pushed it into my back, and then he slammed me to the ground. He put his foot on the back of my neck, and he told me to stay away from Conner. He said ‘Stay the fuck away from him, or next time, you won’t see me coming.’” Her voice caught at the last part, and her eyes filled with tears.
I rubbed her back, feeling sick.
“He pulled me up by the back of my hair, and slammed me into the paper towel holder.” Her hand went to her eye. “I think that’s how my eye got black and blue.” She began to cry now, and I rubbed her back harder, feeling helpless.
“We have to call the police,” I said.
Emma nodded and pulled her cell phone out from inside her left boot, the place she always kept it when we were out. Apparently being faced with Violet’s crisis had sobered her up enough to remember where it was.
“No!” Violet said, shaking her head. “No police.”
“We have to,” I said.
“No. I didn’t… I mean, we can’t. I don’t want the police involved.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “We have to call the police.”
“Let me talk to Conner first,” Violet said. “Please.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, the sick feeling I had deepening. “Violet, did Conner do this to you?”
“What? Of course Conner didn’t do this to me!” Violet sounded outraged, but
Emma and I exchanged a worried glance.
It would make sense. I knew nothing about Conner Sheer except for the fact that he’d been involved in some kind of stalking case when he was younger, and that he apparently thought it would be a good idea to ferret Violet off to Vermont when he found out that they might be brother and sister.
At the very least, his judgment was dodgy. At the very worst, he was dangerous.
“If he did, Violet, we can talk about it, we can figure out – ”
“Conner and I might have a complicated relationship, but he would never lay a hand on me, he would never hurt me.” She glared at me, the pain and fear in her eyes that had been there just a moment ago now replaced with anger. “In fact, if we want to worry about one of the Sheer brothers, don’t you think Landon is the one we should be talking about?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Conner told me the kinds of things Landon’s into,” she said. “So if we should be suspicious of anyone, it should be him.”
My mouth went dry. The kind of things Landon’s into. The punishments, the whips, the cuffs. Conner had told her. My cheeks flamed.
“Violet, Aven just wants to make sure everything’s okay,” Emma piped up helpfully from the couch, saving me from having to say anything. It was the right sentiment, but the wrong tone. The alcohol was still flowing through her veins, and she was still very buzzed. “My friend Marcella was in an abusive relationship, and now she’s married to a doctor.” She delivered this information almost gleefully, and I closed my eyes.
Violet stood up and shot a dirty look at Emma. “Why are you even in this conversation?” she asked. “When I got here, you were sprawled out on the couch drunk, and now you’re suddenly giving me advice?”
“Sorr
y for worrying about you,” Emma shot back. “Sorry for trying to help.”
“You’re not helping,” Violet said. “You’re just being…” She trailed off, apparently deciding that Emma wasn’t worth it. She turned back to me. “Look, Conner would never hurt me. And if he had, I certainly wouldn’t have lied about it, and made up some story about a guy accosting me in a bar.”
“What did the guy look like?”
“He was big,” she said. “Like I said, black leather jacket.” She shook her head and sat back down next to me. “I didn’t get a good look at him, he was mostly behind me.”
Landon.
I hated myself for thinking it, but I kept thinking back to the conversation I’d heard him having with his father, the one where Victor Sheer had instructed Landon to take care of it.
I’d thought he was talking about making Conner break up with Violet, not assaulting her.
That old familiar feeling came back, the feeling I’d had the first night I’d met Landon, the night I saw Violet’s scarf behind his bed. Stay away from him. He’s dangerous.
Deep down, I didn’t think there was any way Landon would hurt anyone.
But I had marks from his cuffs on my wrists, and marks from his belt on my ass.
And how could I really know anything about him, or believe anything he said? He’d told me he was falling in love with me, and then he took off.
“What?” Violet asked, seeing the look on my face. “What are you thinking?”
“We need to call the police,” I said.
“No!” Violet stood up again, still wavy on her feet. “We can’t. I need to call Conner first. I need to just wait until –”
“You need to call Conner first?” I shook my head. “Violet, that’s ridiculous.”
“Brothers and sister need to band together in times of heartache,” Emma said from the couch, and burst into giggles.
Violet shot me a dirty look. “You told her?”
“Both of you just stop!” I said. “I need to think.” But before I could decide what to do, my phone rang..
Landon.
His name burned across the screen, almost accusatory. He’d programmed it in, and every day he hadn’t called, I’d run my finger over the delete button, wanting to erase him from my phone hoping it would erase him from my heart. Of course, in the end, it wouldn’t have mattered, because I already had his number committed to memory.
“Who is it?” Violet demanded, looking over my shoulder. “Landon? Answer it!”
“Hello?” I stood up and walked into the kitchen, out of earshot of the two of them. It was a risk leaving them alone, with Emma in her drunken state and Violet in her weakened one, not to mention their history and how they’d already starting sniping at each other. But I needed to figure out what the hell was going on, and I needed to do it away from the two of them.
“Aven.” His voice was low, melodic, and my core tightened, my breath hitching in my chest. With just one word, I could already feel his hands tightening around my waist, could feel his lips brushing over my neck, his fingers pushing up inside of me. My hand tightened around the phone.
“Are you calling to tell me who it was that accosted my sister in a random bar and left her with a bloody lip and a black eye? Because if not, I’m hanging up.”
“I am downstairs. Buzz me in.”
“You’re what?” Sure enough, the sound of the buzzer echoed through the apartment, just like it had the other night, the other time he’d shown up here unannounced.
“No.” I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “No way. I’m not letting you in until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Aven. Buzz. Me. Up.” His voice was more insistent now, and my nerve endings burst alive, already conditioned to respond to his commands. I hated him.
“No. I’m calling the police.” I hung up. Instantly, a wave of regret rushed through my body. But I ignored it.
This was serious. This wasn’t about Violet taking off with some guy, this was about people getting hurt.
I came back into the living room.
“I’m calling 911,” I announced, already starting to dial.
There was a sharp knock on the door.
Violet and I glanced at each other warily, and Emma, who’d been dozing on the couch, startled.
“Aven.” Landon’s voice barked through the thin door. “Open the goddamn door.”
Violet looked at me, questioning.
I shook my head.
“Aven, open the goddamn door or I will break it down!”
“He totally will, too,” Emma said, nodding. She wiped a bit of drool from her mouth, sounding completely unconcerned by the fact that there was a man outside who may have been responsible for hurting my sister and was now threatening to break down our front door. “I read an article about him in Forbes that said he’s totally ruthless, and he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.”
I sighed and made my way to the door.
“What do you want?” I asked without opening it.
“To talk. Now open the fucking door.”
I hesitated. My head and heart locked into the now-familiar battle, the one where my heart insisted that Landon would never hurt me, that underneath the demons and darkness that were his façade, there was goodness, a man who was capable of real love, who was capable of really loving me.
But my brain told me that was all foolish fantasy, the thoughts of a girl who wanted to believe in romance, not a woman who knew better than to be seduced by good looks and money and promises.
“Aven. So help me God, I will –“
I opened the door.
I stepped into the hall quickly, and shut the door behind me. If he was the one who’d hurt Violet, I wasn’t going to let him near her.
“What happened to Violet?” he demanded.
“How do you know something happened to her?” I shot back. My heart was hammering a staccato beat against my ribs, so hard I could feel the blood whooshing through my veins.
“Because my men called me and told me.”
“Your men?”
“The men watching your apartment.” He sounded impatient, as if this was something that had been explained to me a thousand times before, instead of information I was learning literally as he said it. “They called and alerted me to the fact that Violet was here, and that she appeared to be in distress.”
“You have men watching my apartment?” I glanced down the stairs behind him, even though I of course couldn’t see outside, not from here. But I imagined them out there, dressed in black suits, a constant stream of dark sunglasses and frowns, all of them watching me without my knowledge.
“Yes.” Landon stiffened, his shoulders pulling back, making his height even more intimidating than usual.. “And I must say that your activities tonight are not acceptable.”
“What activities?”
His gaze skittered up my body, taking in the dress I was wearing -- a short, body-hugging black number that I’d (of course) borrowed from Emma.
His jaw tightened in disapproval, and he steepled his hands together tightly before releasing them again, as if he was trying to keep himself from doing something else. Punishing me?
“You have some nerve, Mr. Sheer,” I spit. “Coming here and making comments about what I can and can’t wear. Sorry, but you lost that privilege when you didn’t call me after you – ” I stopped myself. There was no point. This wasn’t about him and I, or us, if there even was an us.
This was about Violet, and making sure she was safe.
I thrust my chin in the air. “Violet was followed tonight, she was pulled into a bathroom of a bar where she had a gun pulled on her. She was thrown to the ground, slammed into the wall, and told to stay away from your brother. Were you the one who hurt her?” I said it all at once, no hesitation.
Landon’s eyes widened. “Is that what you think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Yes, it does.”
<
br /> “Jesus, Landon, my sister is in there with a black eye and a swollen lip. Do you know who did it or not? Because if not, I don’t see the point of you being here.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Really? Because it seems a little suspicious that you would show up here right after she was hurt.”
“I told you I was –”
“Yeah, I know, you were having my apartment watched. That’s a great excuse, Landon. ‘I didn’t accost your sister and threaten her with a gun, because I was busy doing something equally creepy.’”
“Dammit, Aven, if I’d hurt her, why would I show up here? Does that make any sense whatsoever?”
He took a step toward me, his eyes imploring, and the scent of his cologne hit me. He looked every bit the part he did the first night I’d met him, the powerful executive who was used to getting everything he wanted – perfectly tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, cufflinks that sparkled even under the dim lighting outside my apartment.
“I need you to leave,” I said. “I need to call the police.”
I reached for the doorknob, ready to go back into the apartment, but he put his hand over mine, stopping me. His touch sent wildfires through me, and my resolve instantly weakened.
“Aven,” he whispered, and I hated the way my name sounded on his lips, hated that it immediately made my nerve endings rise to attention, that it made my core clench and my panties damp.
“Stop saying my name.”
“Please,” he said. His other hand reached for my hip, turned me around gently until I was facing him, forced to look him in the eye. “You have to believe me. I would never hurt your sister.”
“Then who did?”
Landon’s jaw hardened, awareness dawning on his face.
“What?” I demanded. “What is it?”
“My father. He knows about Violet and Conner, that they might be brother and sister. He warned Conner to stay away from Violet, but Conner wouldn’t listen.”
