“Scare we can do,” he said. “Can I make a suggestion?”
Could he make a suggestion? She was going to be dependent on him throughout this. If anything went wrong, he’d have to think fast because he’d be the one to bail her out. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, suggest anything.”
Curling a finger beneath her chin, he fixated on her eyes. “If you really want to scare the guy, take your time. Don’t talk too much. Ambiguity is better than specifics, and I’d say we should leave him for a few days, at least overnight.”
Planning was necessary in what Archer did. He always seemed so laid back, yet he had to be constantly thinking, making plans, adjusting contingencies and he had nerves of steel. If any of his captives got away, if they went to the cops or sought revenge, he’d be thrown into a battle that he might not win.
Archer had planned this without her, and she had no idea how long he’d had it in the works. “How long has he been here?”
“I got him while you were on shift tonight. I sort of…” He hitched a shoulder up a couple of inches.
“You what?” she asked.
“I started without you,” he said. “You’ll see.”
She didn’t know what he meant by that statement. But it was probably good that this guy was aware of Archer and what he could do because it would make him more compliant with her.
Turning and striding toward the entrance, Archer held her hand while he led her through it. They went down some stairs into a concrete passage with old rusted pipes running the length of it. The dark factory basement didn’t reveal much. In the distance, there was dull green light emanating from somewhere and that seemed to be their destination.
“Did you put that there?” she asked, when they stopped next to the glow of the lantern that stood by a steel door.
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought the dark down here might freak you out.”
“Thanks.”
Claustrophobia afflicted her at times, usually in times of panic and high stress. Walking into a long dark corridor might be standard operating procedure for Archer, but there was scrabbling in the walls and creaks in the pipes that made her uneasy.
With his large hand engulfing hers, she didn’t feel fear, but the light might be alleviating some of her anxiety. Nya had no idea how she would’ve reacted if they were simply walking into an abyss towards an unknown objective.
“Ok,” he said and bowed to kiss her forehead. “The floor is yours.”
six
He unlocked a padlock and slid back three bolts all of which looked newer than the handle on the door and the rust on the pipes. Either Archer had set this up specifically for her or he’d used this setup before. Picking up the lantern, he held it on two fingers.
As Archer stepped inside, she tightened her grip on his hand, while reminding herself that she’d asked for this. She wanted this. This man couldn’t hurt her while Archer was here. The vast space they entered was filled with obsolete machines in disrepair. The grimy vents at the front of the space didn’t let in any light and Archer set the lantern on the floor. Although it was small, it filled the space with enough light for her to make out some details after her eyes adjusted.
Weeds grew through the cracks, bat droppings covered some areas of the floor and she could hear the winged creatures squeaking and fluttering above.
“Please,” came a voice. “Please let me go.”
A large pipe, about a meter in diameter, descended from the ceiling in the center of the room. It turned at a ninety-degree angle about a half-meter from the floor and carried on across the room, through a machine and into a side wall. This was what the man was chained to, his arms stretched around it, just above where it curved. The position couldn’t be comfortable because his arms were flush to it, and didn’t seem to have much room to move.
Nya couldn’t see how his hands were attached because his back was to her. The first thing she saw was the reflection of the lantern light on the captive’s pasty-white behind.
“Tulio!” Archer declared like he was talking to a friend he hadn’t seen for a long time as he sauntered further into the room, taking her with him. “I told you I’d be back.”
Tulio couldn’t see them properly; he struggled to look over his shoulder in an attempt to see if Archer betrayed what he might have planned by his demeanor or what he’d brought. The guy had to be terrified.
“He’s naked,” she said, stating the obvious before she could contain the words.
“Yep,” Archer responded.
“Who? Who’s that with you?”
Their prisoner sounded panicked, though she couldn’t blame him. He tried to twist further to get a better look, but the angle of the pipe prohibited him from getting far. The pipe’s deviation prevented him from going too far left, he could go right, or maybe couldn’t, she still couldn’t figure out how he was attached.
“You don’t want to know the answer to that question,” Archer muttered. “All you need to know is that she’s savvy, sexy, and you pissed her off… which gives me a problem.”
“Her?” Tulio said. “I didn’t piss off no bitch.”
“Hey!” Archer let her go to march over and smack the guy on the back of the head, bouncing his forehead off the pipe with a metallic twang. “No one’s allowed to call her names like that except me. You think you’re smart? You’re standing there with your jewels out in front of a woman you almost raped!”
“What? Me? No!” Tulio said. “No, not me. I’ve got a sister, man.”
Archer bent to growl in Tulio’s ear. “So do I.”
No, he didn’t. Tulio was as likely to have one as Archer was. Her love’s point proved that anyone could say anything in these circumstances, saying them aloud didn’t make them true.
“He’s naked,” Nya said with burgeoning satisfaction. Archer had told her that forced nakedness was a torture technique and the guy had to be feeling exposed. But now he knew who she was and what he’d almost done to her, his panic must be ratcheting up. “Excellent start, baby! Now I can cut off his balls and watch him bleed out, he’ll never hurt another woman without those, will he?”
“Yes, sweets, you can,” Archer said, proud either of himself or her.
“No! No, she can’t,” Tulio said.
The prisoner deserved to feel the fear and uncertainty that came with being so vulnerable because it was exactly what she and Jamie had felt in those first few seconds before they got into the breakroom when neither of them knew what was coming next.
“She can do what the fuck she wants,” Archer said and she loved the way his voice became abrupt and decisive.
There was no equivocation in what he said or where his loyalty lay. His voice gave such clear proof. When Archer spoke to the bound man he’d trussed up just for her, he remained cold and unforgiving. His tone warmed when he addressed her, showing that he cared and that she was the real boss here. He’d never called her “Sweets” before, and she liked it.
Moving around, she maintained a wide perimeter, but wanted to see the face of this man who’d been masked during the raid in Sizzle. Archer stayed in his position, closer to Tulio than she was and she didn’t mind having him as a guard. Something on the floor caught her eye and she paused to peer at it. When she realized what it was, she nearly gasped, but managed to stem the sound by clamping both hands over her mouth.
Luckily, she wasn’t in Tulio’s eye line, but Archer caught her reaction. “Is that…?” she asked, lowering her hands from her lips.
“His left pinkie,” Archer stated. “I told him to expect worse. He’ll never forget what he did to you.”
Just as she would never forget.
“Look, look, I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry,” Tulio sobbed. While he was the attacker he’d given no thought to his victims’ terror. “What are you going to do with me? What are you going to do? If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I swear I won’t.”
“What makes you think we’ll let you go?” Archer asked, pivoting on the spot to glar
e at Tulio. “You think you’re gonna walk out of here? Do you?”
“I didn’t do nothing, man,” Tulio pleaded. “I was working under orders, you know how it is.”
“Working under orders? I don’t care who the fuck told me to rape a woman, I’d never do it.”
“I didn’t, boss! I didn’t stick my dick in no whore! Didn’t put it nowhere near any bitch!”
Archer walked over and instead of slapping his head this time, he took a handful of his hair and smacked his head off the solid pipe. “What the fuck did I tell you about calling her that?” Archer snarled through gritted teeth, anger radiated from him. “You disrespect my lady one more time and I’ll lose my fucking patience with you, which will piss her off, ‘cause she wants to have some fun with you. When she gets pissed off, I don’t get laid, how do you think that will work out for you down there at the bottom of the food chain?”
“She’s… she’s your girl? No,” Tulio said, maybe it was the daze or he was really that worried but he began to shake his head fast. “No, no, no one would go after your girl, Arch, no one. Hexam respects you, man, you know that.”
Hexam respected Archer, everybody did, though she supposed it was more out of necessity than a testament to his glowing, courteous personality. His connections ran deep and if he didn’t already have some dirt on you, it wouldn’t take him long to dig it up and use it against you if he had to protect himself.
To the right, she saw the spread of Archer’s knives lying out on a stationary conveyor belt. “I have an idea,” she said.
Archer let go of Tulio’s hair to come back to her side. But she didn’t address him, she began to wander toward the glinting blades that transfixed her. They lived in his closet, but she’d never taken the time to examine them in detail. Running a finger over their sheathed handles, she wondered which one was best for what she was planning.
The support of Archer’s chest met her back and he ran his hands from her elbows to her shoulders then up to the sides of her neck. “What are you thinking?” he asked, taking her pony tail, wrapping it around his fist and yanking her head sideways and back so he could kiss and nibble the pulsing artery in her neck. Moving up to her hairline behind her ear, he tormented her with his tongue, sliding it south until it met the collar of her shirt. “You tell me what you want to do, I’ll tell you which one to use.”
She’d never used his knives before, he was protective of them, so she doubted anyone ever had. “You mark every man who crosses you,” she said.
“That’s right.”
“I want you to mark him for me,” she said.
She’d do it herself, except she had absolutely no experience with knives. She’d either cut too deep, forcing the guy to make a mess as he bled out, or she would cut too shallow and he’d be saved from the scar that would remind him of this day for the rest of his life, which was currently in her hands.
That reality was intoxicating. Rather the power she had over making that decision was. In one breath, she could order another human being dead and it would be done. His knives were here, Archer could do it, or he could tutor her. But death wasn’t what she wanted for this man, definitely not yet.
Tulio was nervous for sure, who wouldn’t be, given the circumstances, and he seemed to be emotional. But he was also still compos-mentis, he hadn’t gone into full meltdown mode and he was smart enough not to fall back onto rage, as some stubborn men would.
But if he worked for Hexam as opposed to running his own operation, Tulio was a supporter, not an instigator, meaning he could be easily replaced.
“Anything you want, Squirm,” Archer murmured into her hair then kissed the back of her neck, right on her spine. “Anything you want.”
Breathing the words again, he brushed his lips over her skin. Was this turning him on? No, the kiss wasn’t sexual. Well, it was, but it wasn’t as urgent as she knew his touch to be if he was in the grip of blind arousal. It was intimacy. It was trust. It was an appreciation for this openness without judgement.
Sharing this was not only fulfilling their deal, it was taking their relationship to a new level of full acceptance. Complicity in criminality was one thing, but now she was his accomplice, or he was hers.
There was no doubt or hesitation when he reached around her to slide a specific knife from its sheath before her. Pulling it out with such deliberation, she held her breath, and watched, feeling the gentle withdrawal almost as if he were sliding his dick out of her after sex. Just when he slipped away, she exhaled, in a whispered moan he’d have heard in that same scenario.
He kissed the back of her head and then retreated. Closing her eyes, she could choose to keep her back to him and ignore him while he worked under her instruction. But turning a blind eye wasn’t possible; she needed to face what was going to happen because it was her that had coveted it. Her that had compelled Archer to set this up for her.
“No! No! No!” Tulio was screaming, begging as she heard the sound of metal on metal.
Confronting the scene, she carried on in her arc to see that his arms were extended round the pipe with a length of chain between them, connecting his wrists with heavy metal cuffs.
“No, man! Don’t do it!” Tulio screamed out.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” she said. Tulio stopped trying to pull away and brought his eyes from their extreme position of trying to see Archer behind him to land them on her now that she was in his field of vision. “Does it feel good to be helpless? To be weak? To have someone hurt you and take advantage of you while you can do nothing to help yourself?”
He peered at her for a second and she moved half a step closer to better witness the moment. Clarity dawned on Tulio. “You’re Taggert’s girl,” he said and tried to curve to see Archer, but Archer shunted his head against the pipe. “You’re fucking Taggert’s girl? You’re doing this for Taggert’s girlfriend?”
Tulio’s comprehension almost took him away from here for a moment, away from what Archer was about to do. But he was dragged back to it when Archer’s blade pierced his arm furthest from her. Archer may have picked that place because she couldn’t see it well and so didn’t have to confront the violence of the act. Although she had to hear Tulio’s scream, there was no protecting her from that. It echoed through this cavernous space, intensifying this fraught moment, sending a rash of shivered goosebumps to flush her skin.
Archer had to have gone deeper with Tulio than he did with Bryant because his scream was far less potent. Marking Tulio’s upper arm was better than marking his back. Although their victim’s back was more accessible, Tulio wouldn’t have to see the wound if it was there. With it on his arm, he’d have to see it every day.
If it was up to her, she’d have asked Archer to do it smack bang in the middle of Tulio’s forehead, but that might have been too obvious. They wanted to remind Tulio of what he’d done, but didn’t want to declare to the world what they’d done.
Tulio’s knees buckled, the curve of the pipe held him up. Archer sauntered away and went back to his laid out knives. Instead of being repulsed by the pain in this man’s expression, satisfaction heated her from the inside.
“You didn’t hear her cry,” Nya said, taking another step toward the pipe. “How many women have you heard begging for their lives, screaming for your friends to stop hurting them? How many times have you ignored them?”
“I’m not like that!” he screamed out. “I’m not!”
“You are,” she said. “You were that night. Are you going to tell me that was your first time? That you’d never worked for Hexam or those other guys before?”
“Hexam went nuts,” Tulio said, panting through the pain as he crouched with his arms stretched above him. The chains holding him up forced him into the awkward position of hugging the pipe while his body wanted to give out. “When he found out what they did to that girl, he went nuts.”
“Aww, your big, bad boss has a heart?”
Tulio coughed and dragged his feet across the floor to try t
o take his weight. “Hexam has no heart… He was pissed because they were supposed to do it to you.” That made her pause. Tulio laughed. “Yeah, they were supposed to make threats. They were supposed to beat down anybody they thought might influence you into giving up Taggert. But you were the target, you were the one supposed to be tortured, raped, whatever… Hexam gave the go ahead for us guys to do whatever it took to get that information out of you.”
“That’s enough,” Archer’s voice came from behind her, terse and angry, it made her jump. “That’s enough for tonight.”
Archer stormed across the room to wrap a length of duct tape around Tulio’s mouth. He wrapped it around twice, made sure his nose wasn’t blocked and then went back to his knives. Nya was still in the stupor of processing what Tulio had said when Archer came over and grabbed her arm to drag her towards the door.
She staggered along behind him, so dazed that she didn’t see him lock up the room or retrieve the light. But when they got back into the alleyway, he was carrying his knives, the tape, and the light. He took them all to the trunk and dumped them inside.
After slamming the lid, he went around to open her door. “Come on,” he said.
Nya was still numb, standing in the entrance where he’d let her go. “I was supposed to die.”
She’d known the objective was to break her and she’d known Jamie didn’t deserve what had happened to her, but Nya had never imagined for a second that there were express orders for her to be tortured and sexually abused.
Jonno and his buddies probably thought they had all night until Archer swanned in and told them that leaving the bouncers in the street had been a bad idea.
That was the only thing that had saved her life, the fact that the raiders had been stupid and committed murder in the street.
And Archer…
Fixating on him as he strode over to her, she was still in too much of a daze to realize he intended to pick her up and haul her to the car, which was exactly what he did.
Scarred (Branded Book 2) Page 6
