Love's Dangerous Territory

by Love's Dangerous Territory [Whispers] (mobi)

  “Our plane crashed. Three of us were killed. Lando and I...” Christy began quickly, but the large blond man cut her off.

  “You out here with your husband?” he asked.

  Christy noted the now apprehensive look on his face. He seemed pensive, as were the others. Their gazes shifted around nervously.

  “No, he's not my husband. He's the only other survivor from the plane crash we were in,” she explained, though she began to feel her own apprehension mounting. Her intuition began screaming something was not right.

  On further inspection she could see two of the men appeared to be spattered in blood. Their backpacks were large and overstuffed. Grayish fur was spilling from one. When one of the men shifted she could see a large rifle strapped to his back. Christy stepped back, sensing she should listen to her inner female voice. Perhaps it was the men's own apprehension. The way they suddenly seemed to surround her. She became frightened, feeling cornered.

  “He's close by. I'll just call...” Christy stated, now feeling a desperate need, wanting Lando close for security. But the blond man moved suddenly, lunging for her. Before Christy could offer a protest he had her firmly within his strong embrace, and a large dirty hand secured over her mouth.

  Christy struggled violently, kicking her legs and pulling at his hands and sleeves, to no avail. The powerful man had her in a firm grip, pinning her arms to her sides. He tightened his large hands upon her painfully, squeezing her until her struggling slowed, then ceased. Her pained whimpers came on softly expelled amounts of air. She ceased struggling and held still submissively.

  Christy's breath became labored. She looked up at him imploringly, desperately. She could hardly breathe. She was terrified. Her eyes began to tear. She began to shake within his embrace. Her ribs throbbed painfully with the pressure he exerted. She sobbed up at him softly, silently praying for mercy.

  Christy could hear his rough voice a breath away from her ear. “Now be good, honey, and just maybe we will be gentle with you.” The man again squeezed once more viciously before loosening his grip. She slumped within his grasp, groaning deeply at the back of her throat. He chuckled.

  Christy shuddered and whimpered softly. Lando? her mind cried out. The large blond man easily lifted her up off her feet. He carried her back behind the bush, but not before he instructed the others to do away with the man, Lando.

  Lando began walking back to where he had left Christy. He hated leaving her alone, yet knew she was tired and he could scout a great deal of land more quickly without her. He stopped abruptly when he noted Christy was no longer on the rock where he had left her. The food he had given her lay resting on the ground near where she had perched.

  “Christy?” Lando's voice boomed urgently.

  “Oh, she can't answer. But don't worry, I bet Rick is taking real good care of her.”

  Lando spun in the direction of the cocky voice. A fist connected soundly with his jaw from a different direction. Lando recoiled, then reacted; his foot came up quickly and smashed cruelly into another's face. Blood spattered. The man went spinning, and tumbled to the ground.

  Lando felt another blow connect at his temple. He spun about and sent his fist into a man's belly. He heard the answering groan; the man's knees buckled, sending him to the forest floor, rendering him incapacitated as well. One of the men who had been standing back swung hard and a large heavy piece of wood connected with Lando's head, sending him into oblivion. He sank to the ground.

  “Damn, the man's got an iron jaw,” one of the men complained, grasping his hand.

  “Damn iron foot, too!” another man complained while holding his chin as blood dripped from his nose and mouth.

  “Just get him up,” the third man said. It wasn't long before Lando's limp body was tossed into the frigid water, where the current carried him downstream.

  Christy's hands had been tied behind her back tightly. Not far from where she and Lando had stopped had been an overgrown road. Once the other men had returned she had been thrown into a jeep and they had left to return to a tiny cabin not far away. Christy had been thrown over the blond man's shoulder and carried inside the cabin. Her pitiful struggles stopped quickly. The large blond man had whacked her behind soundly, painfully, demanding she keep still.

  “Please don't hurt me,” Christy had pleaded once more as the blond man fondled her roughly for a few moments before wandering off to the fridge. He cracked open a beer. Upon entering the cabin, he had tossed her onto a couch. Christy had scooted as far into the corner of it as she was able. She pulled her legs up closely to her chest.

  “Well, it just doesn't get much better than this, does it, boys? Kodiaks for the taking, wolves and cougars for the taking, and now a woman for the taking,” the blond man joked cruelly, and then downed half of his beer.

  “What do we do with her, Rick?” one of the other men asked a bit nervously.

  “Use your imagination,” Rick said, and again sauntered towards Christy, his intent clear.

  Christy cowered back onto the couch she was sitting on, her tears flowing uninhibited. Her body shook as Rick sat beside her and once more reached to stroke her breasts. He pushed his large hand roughly between her firmly clasped thighs. He glared into her frightened, pleading eyes. He pressed his large body firmly against her, pinning her to the couch. Christy began to sob uncontrollably.

  “No, I mean after we're done here. We already got rid of the guy, but what do we do with her? I don't care much for the thought of throwing her in the stream when we leave,” he said with some distress. “Poaching is one thing, but murder is an entirely different matter. If their plane crashed, someone will be looking for her. Besides, the other guy was huge and fought back, we can justify that, and get our story straight. But killing her won't be in self-defense. If we're ever caught no one would believe she attacked us, no matter if we all stuck to the same story, she's too small. And I can see what you have in mind; it's what we all got in mind. You can't say you raped someone in self-defense. Not a judge in the world would buy that one.”

  “Well, maybe if she's nice to me I might take her home with me,” Rick replied. He held Christy's hair tightly and kissed her throat, his mouth leaving a trail of wet slopping kisses upon her jaw line.

  “Please don't hurt me, please don't beat me,” Christy cried out fearfully.

  “We're not going to hurt you,” Rick soothed. He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the sweet womanly smell of her.

  “Much,” one of the other men said, and they all laughed.

  Christy's breathing became labored. She was too fearful of all of them. They were crowded around her, intimidating her. Her chest heaved with spasms. Images of being huddled against the wall at her parents’ home while in agony flashed through her mind. The pain of her broken bones overwhelmed her. The taste of her own blood choking her at the back of her throat while an evil encompassing shadow towered over her helpless body, engulfing her.

  She felt as though she were having a heart attack. Her face paled until it was chalk white. Her body began to shudder uncontrollably. She whimpered pleading words around a violently quaking jaw until her voice could no longer be heard or understood over her ragged breathing. A terrible roaring noise had started throughout her head. Her hearing began to fade, and then seemed nonexistent. She saw white spots of lights.

  “All right now, just relax,” she thought she heard a deep voice say from far away.

  Christy's eyes rolled back into her head when she was unable to take in enough air. She jerked violently once. Her spasms then ceased abruptly. Her head fell forwards onto Rick's surprised shoulder. He grasped her limp form, and his roaming hands stilled.

  “Well crap, Rick, is she dead? We didn't scare her to death, did we?” one of the men asked with concern. “I don't want to take a dead woman, and I was looking forward to this.”

  “No, she ain't dead. She fainted. She's just really scared. She'll be fine in a little while,” Rick said, sighing softly. He placed his hand over he
r wildly beating heart. He should have realized this would happen. He berated himself quietly. She might already have been in shock from the plane crash she said she was in.

  He should have just taken her to his room and handled her alone before she was faced with all of them. She would have been terrified by just him, but four of them were enough to send any woman into a panic. Now he would have to wait. An unconscious woman would give him no trouble, yet he wanted her to cry out for him.

  He could tell she would beg real nice. She was a pretty little thing. Maybe he would take her home with him after all when they were finished here. He lived in the middle of nowhere, all alone. Once knocked up, she would be trapped and completely dependent on him. He could use the baby to make her do whatever he wanted. She would be unable to escape. Rick liked that idea. Now the thought of the other men presented a problem. He wouldn't really care whose kid it was. But maybe he didn't like the idea of the others tasting what could be his alone. He had been interested the moment he saw her.

  “Let me dump her on my bed. We best get busy with the animals we got; she can wait,” Rick said. He pulled Christy's limp body easily into his powerful arms, enjoying the soft, warm feel of her helpless body pressed closely to him.

  “Well, why your bed?” one of the men asked angrily.

  “You want to make something of it?” Rick asked, and glared dangerously at the smaller man.

  Rick easily slung Christy's slight form over a broad shoulder, leaving a fist free. The other, smaller man knew better than to take him on. His jaw stilled showed bruising from where Lando had struck him earlier.

  “Just be sure you leave some for us,” he grumbled instead, then backed off.

  Rick strode off and was soon placing Christy down upon his bed. He stroked back a long lock of her soft hair, enjoying the feel of it as he threaded it through his large fingers.

  She stirred slightly. “Lando,” she whimpered pleadingly, then remained silent.

  Rick pledged she would soon be whimpering and screaming his own name. He decided he wanted to keep this one. Binding her ankles and throwing a blanket over her still and bound body, Rick rose to stare down upon her supine form.

  Keeping her might not be such a bad idea, he reasoned. No one would find her, after all. She would be good company for him, especially during the frigid, snowbound months of inactivity. It wouldn't take long for him to tame someone so small and helpless.

  The more Rick thought about it the more the idea appealed to him. Smiling, he gave a quick kiss to Christy's forehead. He would help the others for awhile, then return to claim her. This trip was indeed proving to be prosperous. He would revel in his new wealth shortly.

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  Chapter Ten

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  Lando slowly pulled his battered, exhausted body up onto a slippery rock. He pulled his arms around himself tightly, shivering horrifically. He felt frozen to the bone. He had regained consciousness slowly after having become entangled in debris in the stream. Though freezing cold, the stream was only a little less than waist deep. The current had been strong. His frozen, aching fingers felt as though they'd been smashed in a door. His mind worked from a deep fog, and it took him a while to maintain a decent hold to disengage himself.

  “Lando.” He had heard a small, softly whimpered cry.

  He knew it was Christy calling to him. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he was certain it was her.

  “I'm coming, sweetheart, just hang on,” he said aloud, though his voice was tired and he never in his life remembered feeling so weary.

  Lando rose stiffly, testing his joints. Thankfully nothing was broken, though his head throbbed. More than once his ex-boss had told him he had the mind of a steel trap. Apparently he had the steel part right.

  Lando walked, a bit dazed, realizing he needed to warm himself up or he would die of exposure or hypothermia. If he were to die he couldn't help Christy. Reaching ice cold fingers into his wet front pocket, he had some difficulty removing the lighter; he fumbled, trying to maintain a good grip. He had gathered kindling and small pieces of dry leaves and moss for tinder.

  His mobility was helping his blood to flow faster, though he couldn't seem to make his frozen thumb strike down hard enough to cause a spark on the lighter. Instead he took the lighter to a branch. Holding the bottom of the lighter, he pressed the igniter up against the branch, giving it a shove. The flame burned bright and, using his other shaking hand, he held up a few dry leaves. Once they caught he placed them on the kindling he had already set out nearby.

  Lando huddled as closely as he dared to the flames, his hands seeking desperate warmth. He was exhausted. A foreign feeling of aloneness entered his brain. He felt quite surprised at that. He hadn't had that feeling since he was a little boy. He had hardened his heart to that feeling, as he had hardened his heart to a lot of feelings.

  Being with Christy had given him a taste of what he had been deprived of his entire life. Warmth, a sense of caring for another, knowing he was needed. Christy had accepted him even knowing he would have to leave her. She had feared him but still wanted him close by. In fact, she desperately wanted his body close to hers, seeking his protection and safety.

  Lando's teeth chattered. He reached up absently to rub at his jaw, stopping the clattering. The coldness seeped into his bones, making him feel like a wet dishrag. A sudden thought entered his mind. Christy had felt so terribly alone when the plane had crashed. She had been so cold, and he had callously taken Sam's jacket away from her. She had been in terrible pain, terrified of him, and he thought it best to end her life, to put her out of her misery assuming he knew what was best. When did you become God? a voice questioned.

  Lando gave his head a shake. When indeed.

  Christy had persevered. She had thwarted his attempt—the only one to ever have. Her spirit was strong, a lot stronger than a great many men he had known. She had overcome astronomical odds and lived. Well she won't for long if you don't do something, the voice casually mentioned.

  Lando sighed softly. When had his mind gotten so annoying? Though right! a thought flashed quickly.

  Lando arose and stomped out the fire. His feet were frigid; pins and needle pain shot up through his calves and thighs. He had sat feeling sorry for himself long enough, and he needed to take action, now. Christy was depending on him; she desperately needed him.

  Shakily, he backtracked to their last position. The faster he moved, the harder he concentrated, the more Lando's mind cleared. Once again he became a predator. The hunter stalked his prey as he had no other before. Lando's intensity engulfed him. He was angered. No one took what was his. Christy was his. She belonged to him alone.

  Triumphantly, Lando came across the tiny clearing where he had last seen her. There were signs of a struggle, his. He noted beyond the bush there were only the men's tracks retreating. One of them had obviously picked Christy up to take her away. She would not have been able to thwart the attempt. What was it the man had said?

  Lando's mind reflected back, searching. Rick was the name he had referred to, he thought suddenly. There were at least four of them. Christy would be so terrified. He remembered how frightened she had been of just him. If they had hurt her he would kill them all. Who was he kidding? He planned to kill them all regardless, he thought with furious intensity. Playing God again? the voice questioned.

  “No, I'm not God. I'm just really pissed,” he raged aloud furiously.

  Christy woke slowly. “Lando?” she whimpered, frightened. She tried to rise, then noted her hands and feet were bound. A blanket had been thrown over her. The fact she remained dressed and felt no telltale pain had her realizing none of the men had touched her as of yet.

  Christy shuddered. Wherever they were, they would be back. They would hurt her. She yanked at her bonds. She managed to squirm out from under the blanket. Being agile, she slipped her bound hands under her bottom and down her bent legs. Struggling, she slipped t
hem past her feet. Once her hands were in front of her, Christy pulled at the rope with her teeth.

  The knots were tight and she was having a great deal of trouble with them. She felt elation as one finally became undone and, with the rope now loosened, she was able to slip her hurting wrists free. Christy deftly began working on the ropes at her ankles. It was with great relief when they, too, were free. Christy sat up slowly, rubbing at her ankles and wrists.

  “Well, you just saved me a lot of time and trouble.” Christy jumped at the hard voice.

  Rick was leaning casually against the doorframe of the bedroom, his huge body filling the entry way. His cruel devilish eyes were penetrating, as though searching her very soul. She realized he had been watching her attempts at undoing herself. She wondered fearfully if he was angry, but his look was that of slight amusement.

  “I was going to stop you, but hey, I thought, why should I bother? You'd just struggle, and we both would have gotten all tired out. This way only you're just tired. All I need to do now is retie your hands to the head of the bed.”

  Rick strolled lazily towards her, a predatory walk. She began to tremble. Her eyes flashed to the posts on either side of the large bed, then the matching posts at the bottom, and shuddered with her thoughts. She made soft whimpering sounds in the back of her throat.

  Rick moved towards her slowly, carefully. “You're a real skittish little thing, aren't you? Well, I've waited long enough. You don't need to go fainting on me again, honey; we can go real slow. I got lots of time set aside just for you and me. We can get to know each other intimately.”

  Christy's could feel the blood drain from her face, and her jaw quivered uncontrollably. His meaning was all too clear and by his tone she could tell how intimately he was about to get to know her. She crept slowly off the bed and stopped only when her back pressed against a cold wooden wall. When realizing she was trapped and cornered, she splayed her hands before her face.