Abducted

by K. I. Lynn

  “Those two suits looked like they’d pay well. What happened?”

  She was fishing for Al, ever the little side piece, but I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted so she could get another hit while she rode his dick.

  “Turns out they were looking for a gang-bang girl.” They didn’t need to know the reality of the men.

  Her eyes were wide, lips parted. “Oh.”

  I nodded and gave her a thin-lipped smile. “Yup.”

  Unlike most of the girls at the Castle Lounge, I hadn’t grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. No trailer parks or low-income parents. No debt or drugs or any of the other stereotypical reasons girls became topless dancers.

  The only stereotype I had was daddy issues. Deep-seated ones.

  Tyrants demand loyalty, respect, and that you follow every word as law.

  Daddy was a lawyer. High powered in one of Chicago’s biggest crime families. I was expected to act and look perfect at all times. To behave and be nothing but a pretty doll to display.

  Too bad for him, I had too much rebellion in me.

  Things weren’t always tense between us. Once upon a time I was very much a daddy’s girl, but as I got older his hugs became chains. When my mother took her life, they were no longer free but came with a price I was expected to pay.

  His quest for power had become a noose around my mother’s neck until there was only one way for her to be free again.

  “Don’t let him cage your spirit,” she’d said. “You aren’t made for bowing before false kings.”

  She took her life that night. Over the following months my father’s affections became non-existent and though there were spots of the man who once looked at me with adoration and love, his thirst for money and power was stronger.

  One day I went to the mall, lost my guards, and walked away. That was three years ago. Three years of scraping by, of dancing for dollars, but I was free.

  On my way out, Mac caught my eye and I gave him a wink, making sure to flash him a piece of the blue fabric in my bag from the dress he wanted. I wasn’t even out to my car when my phone went off.

  I’m coming for that pussy—Mac

  A shiver rolled through me, and a smile spread as I bit down on my lower lip. When I’d left home, I’d thought freedom would include sex whenever and with whomever I wanted, but I realized once I was out on my own that my escapades were a form of rebellion. Sex wasn’t what I wanted. Freedom was.

  In the three years since I left home, I’d had a very few select partners, usually months apart. Mac had been a steady partner for two years.

  They were there to scratch an itch. Nothing more.

  There was no room in my life for more. The life I’d fled was filled with the death and destruction that accompanied the power-hungry high of men.

  Maybe one day I would find a good man to have a normal life with, but the guards who popped in and out of my life made even that idea a difficult one to entertain. It would mean telling someone the truth behind my mask of lies.

  My pussy is hungry. Don’t stall—Ella

  Fuck. Keep up with that shit and I’m going to nut in my pants—Mac

  Just trying to keep you wanting -Ella

  No need. I’ve been dying for another taste of you for weeks—Mac

  I blinked at the screen. Maybe things weren’t as casual for him as they were for me. That could be a problem, but I would come back to that after.

  Come and get it—Ella

  There was a chill in the late September air, and I was happy to have a heavy cotton sweater on. While it wasn’t flattering, it was warm. My car took a few minutes to warm up and sweep away some of the cold.

  After midnight there weren’t a lot of cars on the road, which was always nice, especially in this part of town. In the rearview mirror were two pinpricks of light keeping even with my speed. At the stoplight, the lights blinded me so I was unable to see anything inside.

  When the light changed, I stepped on the gas to get some distance from the van or truck that was behind me. It sat higher, and the more I increased my speed to lessen the blinding lights, the more they kept up.

  It was a feeling I’d had before. That itch of suspicion, the tickle of paranoia at the back of my brain.

  I told myself it was the paranoia instilled by the guards who’d said it wasn’t safe.

  Each turn I made, so did they. Every increase of speed they matched.

  That feeling wasn’t going away. My breaths increased, and my hands tightened on the steering wheel. After a few miles with no other cars on the road, it was no longer paranoia.

  There really was a car following me.

  My heart slammed in my chest, beating harder with each second. My foot pressed down on the accelerator, and I blew through a red light.

  So did they.

  Fear spiked through me, but I kept my focus. Get away.

  Run.

  Fight.

  Don’t let them get you.

  As we approached the bridge, a car swooped out from the back of the car behind me. It flew past me too fast for me to see anything other than that it was a panel van.

  Suddenly he was in front of me and laying on the brakes. I was careening into him with nowhere to go.

  “Shit!” I swore as I slammed on my own brakes. I didn’t want to slow down, but we were in the middle of a two-lane bridge, and there were cars coming in the other direction. To the right was a river, and to the left was a head-on collision.

  The car behind me also slammed on his brakes, and I was trapped, almost bumper to bumper, sandwiched between them.

  Frantically I moved through my list of options, but before I could come up with any sort of a plan, a motorcycle appeared beside me. My eyes widened at the bat in his hand. He swung back and I leaned over, arms raised to shield myself from the spray of glass as my window shattered.

  I stomped my foot on the gas, which only propelled me into the back of the much-larger van in front of me, jerking me to a hard stop. The cars coming from the other direction slowed and a spark of hope lit only to diminish without fully forming as they stopped, and a throng of men jumped from the back of two more vans.

  “Fuck!” I reached in my bag for my pepper spray, finding it just as my door opened and a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me from the car.

  I didn’t even look, only turned and sprayed. He cried out and I thrust my foot into his stomach, sending him to the ground. There were at least ten men descending on me, and I broke off into a run, heading for an opening between two of the cars.

  I made it only two steps before hands were on me, but I didn’t stop.

  The driver of the car that had followed me slid out to block the small opening between the cars I was aiming for.

  He was tall with broad shoulders and an imposing aura, but I was too busy struggling against the hands on me to notice anything else.

  I managed to spray one of the men touching me as I cried out for help. It was futile, I knew, but I wasn’t going to stop.

  A slam of my foot into someone’s crotch, twisting, refusing to go calmly.

  I would not go calmly into the night.

  I’d trained my body, strengthened it for that moment, but there were so many of them.

  The mouth of the man in front of me twisted into a smirk as he watched.

  I’d thrown one man off me when a cloth was pressed over my mouth. My eyes went wide as I tried not to breathe in, still fighting.

  The imposing figure stepped forward but with each step, whatever was in the cloth began to pull me under. My arms were locked, held out on each side as another man held me by the waist. One of my knees was kicked out from under me, and I slumped in the arms holding me. My vision turned fuzzy when he got close enough for me to see his face.

  His hand wrapped around my neck, forcing me to look up at him. I continued to struggle, but my limbs had become sluggish and I knew they’d won.

  The only thing I saw was a deep scar—and silver eyes that stared deep in
to mine.

  “Nighty night, princess,” he hissed condescendingly.

  The last of my strength left me, and I was unable to fight sleep anymore.

  I was cold. So cold. That was the only thought I had as I began to shake the sleep that had ahold of me. More awareness surfaced and something strange kept me from clenching my teeth—soft, malleable, but solid.

  I drew in a sharp breath hindered by what had to be a cloth in my mouth. Panic sent adrenaline surging through me and I sat up, only to fail and flop back to the cold ground.

  Something sharp dug into my wrists when I tried to move my arms, which were locked behind me while my legs were bound together at my ankles.

  I didn’t recognize the building, but it was obvious it hadn’t been in use for years, as evident by the layers of debris in my limited view.

  The darkness made it difficult to see much, even with the moonlight, and my eyes had trouble adjusting. What little light there was streamed in through cracks from what I assumed to be windows and a large overhead skylight. The air was cool, damp, and so still that it stifled a scream that wanted to erupt from behind my bindings.

  There were low murmurs in the darkness and the feeling of being watched, but I couldn’t see into the blackness of the shadows.

  My heart slammed, breath coming out in harsh pants as I struggled against my bindings.

  Cold steel bars surrounded me, no more than a five- or six-inch gap between them. Being tied up was horrible enough, but being caged sent my panic into overdrive.

  Every inch of me was shaking. A combination of fear, anxiety, and cold seeped through every layer down to my very cells. Every nightmare or scary thought and every horror movie that involved kidnapping ran through my mind, giving me highlights of what was in store for me.

  My breath picked up and it was a struggle to keep from hyperventilating as I fought against my restraints.

  “She’s awake,” a voice said from the dark. A figure stepped out from the black, into the moonbeam, and I stared, wide-eyed, at the man in front of me. His hair was dark, the color of oil, but his eyes shone bright and blue. His features were soft, calming almost, and in high contrast to my surroundings.

  I managed to get myself up into a sitting position and I noticed how much my knees ached.

  “Shh. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m Roman.” He had a kind face and strong features that didn’t seem to hold an ounce of malice, which confused me. What was he doing there?

  I couldn’t say anything in response, the gag making it hard to swallow, let alone speak. Even so, I could feel the chattering of my teeth.

  With his hand he beckoned me forward. “Come on, it’s okay. I just want to help.”

  With each inch I scooted closer, my body shook even harder, almost vibrating. He slipped his hands through the bars and I flinched, my eyes slamming shut as I froze in anticipation. There was no slap or hit, but rather a tug at the back of my head, then a pull, then relief as the gag was removed.

  “Can you swing your legs around?” he asked as he flipped out a knife. The blood in my veins stopped, and I blinked at him. He stared back in confusion when I didn’t move, then gestured with the knife. “For the zip ties.”

  Relief seeped in as I wiggled around, my feet closer to the bars. A quick swipe of the blade across the plastic and my legs relaxed down to the ground. They hurt, but it was a good pain.

  He motioned for me to spin and I shuffled around, turning my back toward the bars and pushing my arms toward him. Another tug and there was a rush of pain in my shoulders as I drew my arms back in front of me.

  “See? That’s better.” He smiled at me as he removed his hands.

  I opened and closed my mouth, making circular motions with my lower jaw. “Thank you.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. My parents had hammered manners into me, and if anyone ever did anything for you, a thank you was warranted, but I didn’t think I was in the situation they’d had in mind.

  It felt so good to have the restraints off, even with the pain that came as blood flowed back into restricted areas and muscles and tendons released their stiffness.

  He smiled at me. “You’re welcome.”

  I opened my mouth to ask a question, but then closed it. A chill moved down my spine as I felt eyes on me.

  “Stop talking to her,” a deep, gravelly voice said from the shadows behind Roman. It sent a shiver through me, and even the man before me froze.

  In the darkness, a figure rose and stepped forward, the small amount of light illuminating a striking figure. Strong, hard lines made up his face, with full lips and dark eyebrows creating a shadow that made his silver eyes almost glow. The aura surrounding him screamed danger, and I couldn’t help but stare, unable to move a muscle.

  He was the man from the bridge, the one who’d blocked my path.

  Clashing against his handsome features was a long, thick scar that ran from the outside edge of his eye all the way down to the corner of his mouth, then moved back up, splitting his brow before tapering off on his forehead. It didn’t mar his beauty, but it did increase how menacing he looked.

  My heart slammed in my chest as he continued farther into the light.

  Roman backed away as the new man stepped forward.

  “You’re probably wondering what’s going on, Ella,” he said.

  I couldn’t help but nod, because I had no clue why anyone would want Ella Delgado. By calling me that, I realized they didn’t know who they really had.

  “Please, let me go. I’m a nobody.”

  He ignored me. “My name is Domenico, and I’m your new god. If I tell you to speak, you speak. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Otherwise there are nasty consequences.”

  “S-suck what?” I asked as I swallowed. Had I heard him right? I begged myself to wake up, to free myself from this strange dream, but the cold seeping into my bones and the grit digging into my palms told me it was no dream. It was a living nightmare.

  He grabbed his crotch and dragged his hand along the visible ridge. His lip tugged up and due to the light, his expression was sinister. It sent a splash of cold through me and sent my mind racing.

  What was going on?

  “Just wanted to make sure I had your attention. As I was saying, I’m your god. Your master of pain and pleasure. If you want to eat, be a good little princess, but if you’re a brat, you’ll fucking starve,” he sneered.

  “Why?” I asked. Though vague, it covered so many questions running through my head. The most prevalent: why me?

  He stepped forward and loomed over me as he sneered down at me. “Because we can.”

  Because we can? What does that even mean?

  A snap of his fingers and I heard a shuffle of feet in the dark before he turned and faded away into the black.

  Once alone, I took in my surroundings. The cell was small, maybe a six-foot cube, placed at one end of a large open space. The ceiling had to be around twenty feet tall, and the expanse around was impressive. A large opaque skylight ran about thirty feet down the center of the room. The moon sat high in the sky on a cloudless night. The half-exposed surface showered the earth with a sprinkle of light and created a soft glow through the dirt-smudged glass.

  In the cell sat a twin-sized mattress that looked like it had come from a dumpster, but at least the blankets looked decent, even if they were basic.

  In one corner sat a bucket with a roll of toilet paper next to it. I cringed in realization that it was my toilet for however long I’d be there.

  I searched for any weakness outside of my cubed prison, any route of escape should I be able to free myself from the steel that surrounded me, but I would have to wait for the sun. Dust motes swirled in the warm beams of yellow light that shone from streetlamps outside. That meant the area was not remote, but populated. Maybe someone could hear me?

  “Help! Somebody help me! Please help!” I yelled, praying someone would hear me. I projected my voice as
loud as I could. I clung to the bars, begging for help until my pleas turned into hiccupping sobs.

  What was going to happen to me? Were they going to kill me? Rape me?

  Why me?

  Why Ella?

  My screams did nothing. Nobody came, not even my captors. By the time my throat was raw, defeat crawled in and took hold. I slumped back against the bars. While my sobs had subsided, tears still trailed down my cheeks.

  My stomach opened up in a pit of uncertainty and nausea rolled through me.

  I was all alone. Trapped in darkness and suffocating on the emptiness.

  The silence was deafening. Devoid of anything. My heartbeat was a war drum, and I could hear the whooshing of blood pumping through my veins—sounds I’d rarely even noticed were blaring, blatantly obvious.

  There was nothing within reach, the space empty with the exception of some pillars and another cage about ten feet away. The stale smell of decay filled my nose—a combination of dust, dankness, and dirt.

  There was no real way to tell how much time had passed, but I guessed hours since they had retreated into the darkness. I wasn’t even sure if they were still in the building or if they had left entirely. My eyes fluttered, and despite how gross and disgusting the bed looked, I crawled onto it and pulled the thin blanket on top of me. In no time I was asleep, my last thought a prayer that I would wake in my own bed.

  The chatter of voices stirred me, and I awoke in my nightmare. The cold robbed me of any more sleep, and I opened my eyes to find that it wasn’t all a bad dream after all.

  With the sun shining, the large expanse was illuminated, exposing the cobwebs hanging in corners and the paint chipping from the walls. One wall was covered in windows that were shielded with some sort of film or paper that was yellow, either due to its original color or time. Tears in the material let in unfiltered beams of light.

  I sat up and finally got a look around. What I’d thought was one more cage turned out to be an entire line of them—which meant they could hold up to six girls at a time.