Abducted

by K. I. Lynn

  Abducted

  Copyright © K.I. Lynn

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior written permission of the author.

  Editors:

  Marti Lynch

  Danielle Leigh

  Copy editing by James Gallagher, Evident Ink

  Publication Date: May 5, 2020

  Genre: FICTION/Romance/Contemporary

  ISBN-13: 978-1948284172

  Copyright © 2020 K.I. Lynn

  All rights reserved.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Epilogue

  After all the words and all the things…

  Want to read more in the Sinister Fairy Tale Collection?

  Soundtrack

  About the Author

  More books from K.I. Lynn!

  Somewhere in Chicago…

  The chains chafed my wrists, making me wish I were still in my cage. Though it lacked privacy, the cage at least had a bed, and in there I wasn’t restrained with my arms above my head. But I was in Domenico’s domain. The small bedroom-like area was created from a previous office. There was a lamp and a mattress with a blanket, but those were the only creature comforts. The rest of the room retained both the look and smell of the rest of the decaying structure.

  With no way to tell time, I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there. All I knew was that I was tired. Being held against my will caused spikes in my adrenaline, and the subsequent crashes left me drained. The small panic attacks had lessened over the past few weeks, but there was an undercurrent of strife, and I feared what would happen if things got out of control.

  I stared at the bed, wishing I were on it. All that did was cause the memories of him inside me to come slamming down. The absolute owning of my body by him and him alone. The way he made me come undone.

  Feelings that I shouldn’t have with his touch, but I did.

  Feelings I drowned in as he consumed me.

  I am Domenico’s…for now.

  And that was the thought that always sent questions spiraling out of control and a spike of fear to run through me.

  I was a caged bird. A pet awaiting a sentence bound to be more grim than any fairy-tale horror.

  Another day, another dollar, and another strip in front of a horde of men. Hopefully more than a few, but working in the shitty, low-income part of town wasn’t the most enticing for big spenders. Being a stripper, every dollar I made counted.

  When I was a little girl, the reality of taking my clothes off in front of half-drunk men was never even a possibility. Not even as a teenager, but life doesn’t always go the way you planned.

  “Belle, you’re on in five,” Al called out.

  I caught his eye in the mirror and nodded. Returning to my reflection, I fluffed up my hair and added some lip gloss. I slipped on my six-inch patent-leather platform heels and stood, making a quick adjustment to my blue mini dress, perking my breasts up in the deep V of the collar.

  Castle Lounge was a topless strip bar, and it drew in a decent crowd despite the lower-income community that surrounded it. Chances were the crowd would probably grow larger if it was full nudity, but it wasn’t like the little thong covered much anyway. Tips were always good, but that had a lot to do with my looks: bright-blue eyes to lure them in, an hourglass figure to make them salivate, and olive skin they could envision their cum contrasting against with not a blemish in sight.

  And all of it, including my name, was a lie.

  “Give it up for Belle!” Al’s voice boomed, signaling my arrival.

  The lights were blinding, but the path to the pole was one I was familiar with. One step with an exaggerated sway of my hips was followed by another as I ran my hands up and down my body. A little twirl, a dip, add in a flip of my hair, and the whistles and catcalls boomed out over the music.

  The seats around the stage were crowded as they were every Friday night. A good-sized crowd also occupied the tables filling out the room. There were regulars I recognized as well as new faces.

  I let the music flow through me, using it to lure them all in, to hook them. My eyes popped wide, and I gave a look of mock surprise when the top of my dress slipped down, exposing my breasts.

  Their eyes raked over me, the lust coming off them intoxicating me, driving me to tease them more. Each undulation of my hips and parting of my lips cast a spell on the men.

  The harder they were, the more bills they threw my way. A smile here, a wink there, a dip right in front of their faces.

  Shake my hips and flirt with every man who looked at me.

  It was all a play for power, and on the stage, I made the rules. I was the queen of the castle, and they bowed before me.

  I wrapped my fingers around the pole and gave it a sinuous twist. Then I let my weight drop at my hip and spun around.

  On the pole was where I felt free. All my thoughts slipped away as I let go.

  Dancing had been an escape when I was younger, but I never envisioned I’d be doing it on a stripper pole for dollars to make ends meet at a topless bar.

  Each rock of my hips against the bar pressed the hard metal against my clit. I bit down against my lip as I did it again and again.

  I got off on their lust, on the power over them. They couldn’t touch me unless I said—only look and want and fantasize.

  I made the rules.

  Slow rocks of my hips as I pushed the dress down my torso, a swirl of my hips as the dress stretched over them, and a slow bend at the waist as I pushed it down to my ankles.

  I could feel dozens of men staring at me, at the place they all wanted to be. Standing, I kicked the dress to the back of the stage, then grabbed the pole again.

  That was when I spotted them from across the room, their eyes glued to my body as I swung around the pole. A jolt of fear pulsed through me and I lost my concentration, landing on the stage wrong. My knees hurt, but I pushed past the pain as I spread them wide for the hungry eyes of an overweight, middle-aged man. My hips jutted out, gyrating as my hands moved up my torso until they cupped my breasts. I gripped them tight, my gaze never leaving theirs, and straightened both my middle fingers.

  They could go fuck themselves. I made the rules, and I wasn’t going to let them scare me.

  They stood out in the crowd of lust-crazed men pining for just a taste of my skin or a bat of my eyelashes in their direction. Fuel for their next masturbation session to ease the growing tightness in their balls. Most barely made it to their cars before their cocks were out
and they were stroking them with fervor.

  The two I was currently flipping off and glaring at weren’t there for the show. Messengers in crisp black suits, their gazes were impassive, though I was certain the dark blond one twitched his lips up into a smirk.

  I turned my attention back to the men around me, making sure to pay special attention to each one. Legs in splits, ass in their face, a wide-eyed bite of my bottom lip for that innocent edge, though I was far from innocent. I had long ago learned sex was a way to get what I wanted.

  Bills flew upon the stage along with a few business cards and words of pleading. Then there were the offers—marriage, sugar daddy, money for the night—that I ignored. I wasn’t looking for any of that.

  I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew it was none of them. Leaning down, I gathered up my dress as Jimmy picked up everything my admirers had dropped and cleared the stage for the next girl.

  I slipped the blue mini-dress over my head. It barely covered my ass and tits, so it wasn’t for any sense of modesty, but I knew the power of clothing and how to use it to tease.

  Angel’s music cued up and the crowd’s attention snapped back to the stage. I could still feel the lingering gazes of a few men, including the two dipshits at the back wall. I refused to let them intimidate me, though inside I wasn’t as confident, and I headed up to the bar for a drink.

  “Hey, Mac,” I said, signaling to my favorite man in the place.

  He held up a finger as he finished with a tray of drinks. A blinding smile met me a minute later as he turned his attention to me.

  “Water?” he asked, and I nodded. I liked watching his muscles flex as he moved around. We had an attraction and had shared more than a few nights of fun, but neither of us was looking for more. I trusted Mac more than most, and that still amounted to little more than the trust I had for my worst enemy.

  “Here you go, sexy,” he said with a wink as he set the glass down in front of me.

  “Thanks, stud.” I gave him a wink in return and a smile. Of all the men who surrounded me daily, Mac was the only one who got a genuine smile from me. Maybe if things had been different, if I were a normal girl from the normal world… The thought wasn’t even worth finishing.

  A moan escaped me as the cold water slid down my throat. Dancing always left me thirsty.

  “Don’t be making sounds like that, Ella.”

  I quirked a brow at him. “Using my name? Tsk-tsk, Mac.”

  He leaned his forearms onto the bar, giving a quick glance toward Al before licking his lips. “Want to punish me for it later?”

  The last time we’d been together, I was the punished one—ass spanking, hair pulling, choking. Mac was an aggressive lover—and exactly what I needed.

  I leaned in closer to match his stance. Stress relief sounded like fun, especially after I dealt with the assholes on the far wall. “Punish you? And how would I accomplish that?”

  “By keeping me hard all night until I get you back to my place.”

  My thighs clenched, and I bit down on my lower lip. “And then what?”

  He crooked his finger, and I leaned in so he could whisper in my ear. “And then I fuck you until you come so hard on my cock, you’ll have trouble teasing me tomorrow with your fuck-hot body because you have trouble walking.”

  A moan slipped from between my lips. “But won’t that just turn you on, knowing you are the reason?”

  His tongue peeked out between his lips as he looked at me. “Then I guess I’ll have to punish you tomorrow night.”

  The offer was awfully tempting, especially since the last time I’d had sex with Mac was too many weeks ago. I needed release, and I knew Mac was capable of pulling off just what he promised. “What time do you get off work?”

  “Two,” he replied.

  “I’m off at midnight.”

  “Why don’t I come over after?”

  That would give me time to go home and shower. “I suppose we could do that, but you’ve got to deliver.”

  “Wear that little blue dress. I’ve got some ideas,” he said with a devilish smirk.

  “You’re on, stud.”

  I finished my water and then headed to get ready for my second trip around the pole, but before I could slip into the back, someone grabbed my arm, halting me. One of Al’s meaty hands was wrapped around my arm at the elbow.

  I prepared myself for some lecture for talking to Mac, but the words that came out were not to reprimand me.

  “Belle, those two suits over there paid for an hour.”

  I didn’t have to look at where he was gesturing, and I ground my teeth in agitation. “No.”

  “You’ll do it. Candi is taking your next slot.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t care what you want—they paid. What’s with you?” His brow was scrunched. I never turned down a private dance for a client. Usually they were the type to tip more than I would make in a night on the stage.

  “They just creep me out,” I said.

  Al looked to them, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, something’s not right with them boys. Go on, I’ll keep watch.”

  With a sigh of resignation, I stomped across the room. I wasn’t trying to lure them in or tease them, but the eyes on me said that my shoes had my hips doing just that, regardless of what I wanted.

  As I approached, they straightened in their seats. With each step my anxiety grew, because I knew they were from my past life. I didn’t recognize them but their attitude said it all, and I wasn’t going to be taken back.

  I crossed my arms in front of me as I stopped in front of them and glared. I’d never seen them before, but they had the look I was familiar with.

  “What do you want?” I ground out, letting them know by my posture I wasn’t interested.

  They glanced at each other, and the stoic bald man spoke. “You’re not safe here.”

  I tried not to let them see the turmoil brewing inside me. Not because of their words, but that they’d just confirmed they were my father’s men. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “There have been threats. We need to get you to a secure location,” he stressed.

  “How many times do I have to say no?”

  “I’m sorry, did you say something?” the dark blond asked with a smirk. He was the one I’d seen from the stage. The stoic, even nature of most of my father’s employees didn’t extend to him.

  “Miss, you need to come with us,” the other one said, shooting a glare of warning at his partner.

  Miss. They always called me Miss.

  “I am home, and your hour is up.”

  “It’s only been five minutes,” the cheeky blond said.

  I turned back to him. “That’s an hour in my presence. Go back empty-handed and beg forgiveness, because I am not going anywhere with you.”

  They stood, and I instinctively backed up, my heart slamming. They wouldn’t forcefully take me, would they?

  The blond held out his hand, a small white card hanging between his first two fingers. “If you need anything, bella.”

  I drew a brow and stared at him, gaining satisfaction at the grumble of frustration that passed before he let go. The card twirled to the ground between us.

  My glare followed them, watching them step through the doors. The white card was stark against the dark floor. My lips turned down in disgust before I picked up my foot and shoved my six-inch heel through the paper stock to the carpet below.

  “What was all that about?” Al grabbed my arm, twirling me around to look at him.

  “Nothing.”

  “Ain’t nothing. Those guys paid, and you’re gonna give me a bad rep with that attitude.”

  “They weren’t here for a show,” I spat, my anger still sitting at the surface. I twisted my arm to free it from his grip.

  “What were they here for, then?”

  Nobody knew my past. I was just another runaway, escaping a life, getting lost in drugs and booze and showing off my body to hungry eyes,
only without the drugs and booze. My story started differently. I was just as poor as the other girls, but the Louis Vuitton satchel in my locker wasn’t a fake.

  Sacrifices were made because everything has a price. Freedom was only free if you took it, so I’d taken mine.

  It wasn’t the first time my father’s henchmen had hunted me down and demanded my return, but it was the first time they’d mentioned anything about my safety.

  Something about that was unsettling, but I pushed it down. It was just another tactic to get me to heel, and it wasn’t going to work.

  “They wanted a whore for some party,” I spat, knowing Al would be up in arms. Nothing could get his business shut down faster than the suspicion of prostitution.

  “Good girl. They ain’t welcome here if that’s the case.”

  That gave me hope that they’d be banned, so if my father sent them again, they wouldn’t be allowed in.

  A few hours and a few dances later, I was ready for a shower. I washed the makeup from my face, happy to have the layers and the weight of the false eyelashes gone. I was hooking up with Mac later, and he liked the natural look more than my painted-up face.

  I liked it better as well.

  I pulled on my jeans and sneakers, along with a tank top and my favorite oversized yellow sweater. Outside of Castle, I’d long ago moved from designer dresses and stiletto heels in favor of something more practical.

  Every day I sat on edge, wondering if it was the day to run, and I couldn’t run well in heels. Plus, dressing casually helped me to blend in better. No different than anyone else around me.

  “Hey, Ella, you heading home?” Angel asked as she entered the dressing room.

  As with my past, nobody knew my real name, only the name I’d given them. Many of the girls went by their stage names. Al had named me Belle the first day I came in for a job.

  Eight years of ballet had given me skills that came in handy. However, I’d never stripped in front of someone who wasn’t a doctor or a lover…or my father.

  The memory was a sour one and sat heavily in my stomach.

  “Yeah. I’m dying to finish this book, then take a nice long nap before my landlord comes calling for rent.” She didn’t need to know my actual plans, especially since there were a few girls who wanted to hook up with Mac with no success. Besides, what I told her was an average day for me anyway. Just me and my books.