“I know, Mark, but everything will be okay.” Her hand squeezes my stiff shoulder. The uncomfortable weight of her touch is burning through my clothes. “We love you like our own son. We will protect you.”
Her treacherous words like poison snake into me. I longed to hear this all my life. Back then, I was young, she had the power to heal me, but she chose not to. I’m not her child, just a keeper of life that doesn’t belong to me.
“Mark.” Her words die on her bright red lips as I step away from her. It doesn’t matter anymore. Her need to fill her empty soul. Or mine. We ran out of time.
“Just get them out,” I state, sensing something isn’t adding up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” I walk farther away, pulling out my phone. I dial the number one more time. I left five messages already and got no response so far. Lucas is abroad on a mission and won’t be available for almost seven weeks. That’s what the military operator told me. Helpless terror crushes my hope to dust.
“Luc, it’s me, Mark.” I swallow my emotions. “Cassandra and her kids have been kidnapped. Lester has them.” I pause, not knowing how much info to leave for him and if it’ll ever reach him on time. “I don’t think I’ll see you around, my brother. Just know we’re doing everything to get them back. Take care of them for me, will you?” I disconnect the call.
“It’s time.” Darren’s grave voice reaches me from behind. “Funds will be ready for transfer as soon as we touch the ground. We’re ready to take off.”
30
Survival
~Cassandra~
For a while, I lie on the soft surface like a cloud, trying to pry my heavy eyelids open. I can’t make myself come around as darkness like a comforting blanket holds me in its embrace. Not until the pain pierces my brain with sharp claws, scraping against my skull. Every thought is slow, drifting away from me. The harsh light coming from the windows hurts my sensitive eyes.
Once I manage to sit, doors click open, and someone enters. My vision blurs and I feel dizzy as I try to focus to see who it is. But I fail to process my surroundings or fully grasp where I am.
“Hi,” I croak, and the word scrapes against my voice box like it’s full of sand. “Who are you? Where am I?” I force words out as a cold glass is thrust into my hand.
“Drink, this will make you better.” An elderly woman’s harsh tone with a thick accent sends shivers down my spine.
“What is it?” The condensation clings to the glass, soothing my skin. But it’s so heavy it almost slips through my fingers as if someone filled it with lead. “Who are you?”
“Water,” she confirms, bringing my hand toward my mouth.
After I finish drinking, she speaks again. “Now lie down and sleep it off. The drugs should leave your system soon enough.”
Just before her words register, the dizziness hits me like rocks rolling off the mountain, burying me under the rubble. Someone catches me before I fall off the bed. My awareness starts to slip again.
“You’ll have to get stronger to survive here,” she speaks in Russian, but I understand her words since I learned this language at school ages ago.
Before I can grasp a thought, my body, enveloped in comfort, starts to fall, and spiraling thoughts drag me into the pit of darkness.
“Mommy, wake up, mommy,” my son sing-songs to me, and I pry my eyes open to find him beaming at me with his cute little dimples and blue eyes like the sky.
My heart squeezes in my chest with longing and my eyes water from joy as little Ethan beams at me. My fingers reach to stroke his face.
“You got to wake up, Mommy,” he whispers with an urgency that makes me lose my breath, and my hand falls to my side. “They’re coming, hurry up!” He points to the window.
A sheer curtain dances from the wind, parting at the seams in the middle. “They will find them.” Ethan tugs at me until I am out of bed.
I stagger toward the window. “Come here, Ethan.” But when I part the curtains, I find a wall of bricks where the window should be.
Confused, I look at my son, who sobs, clutching on my leg. “There’s no way out, Mom.”
“Don’t be afraid.” Bending to his eye level, I kiss his little head as the door bashes into the wall. Before I can grab my son, the ground opens, and I fall, losing a grip on my baby. “Ethan!”
I scream.
“Wake up!” Someone slaps me and I yelp in pain. “It’s just a dream. Believe me, the reality is much worst.”
Gasping, I blink away the tears blurring my vision and find the same woman at my side with the food tray placed at the end of the bed and her face twisted in annoyance.
“Eat and then shower. You’ve got to be ready in an hour. We don’t have a lot of time to waste with your antics.” She babbles things like this is just a typical day for us.
I watch her confused as she moves around, arranging clothes and shoes after she starts to run a bath for me. Some foreign instinct or perhaps even shock keeps me quiet. I just watch her bewildered in a hint of fear while I slide off the bed onto my shaky feet. A dizzy spell hits me, but soon clears up and I feel strong enough to walk to the small table next to the crispy white armchairs.
“Here, eat this, you will need your strength.”
I lurch forward, startled. But then I twist around. I’m tempted to cover myself. She studies me like a lizard does its prey before chomping it whole.
Instead of asking questions, I gobble the soup and eat toast with scrambled eggs, knowing I’ll need my wits to figure out where I am. The food is tasteless as if my taste buds are still recovering from whatever they used on me.
Then she pushes me into the bathroom. “Clean yourself well. You want to attract as many flies as you can with that body of yours.”
Her words crawl on my skin like insects, but I push them down and nod. I don’t mind her giving me a look. Playing dumb might be the best course of action in this place. Living with Lucas taught me a few things about survival. I didn’t know this knowledge would come in handy one day.
Once in the bathroom, I dash to the window to see where I am. I pull myself up on the top of the vanity, pressing my face to the narrow window to look around. My breath gets knocked out of my chest as my surroundings register. The palms and various tropical trees and flowers greet my eyes. The house formations with the swimming pools and beautiful gardens are swarmed by guards with guns patrolling the grounds. But only when I catch sight of a few women with collars, practically naked, it hits me.
No, it can’t be!
I fumble with the handle, but when the window opens, the heat wafts over me. The symphony of birds and insects shrouds my brain in utter panic.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? The resort’s built on a private island that belongs to Mr. Belington. And since you saw why we don’t need to bound you, we can start with your grooming routine. Welcome to Pleasure Island.”
For a while, I struggle to make sense, but then it punches me straight into the guts. My entire body starts to quiver. Even my teeth rattle from the force. Before the fear could take me under, she slaps me so hard, I collapse on the floor.
“Get in the bathtub, or I will ask the guards to help you,” she barks a threat at me.
“Don’t,” I choke, raising my palm up to stop her from doing just that. Not waiting for her next threat, I start peeling the black lacy bodice sticking to my sweaty skin.
It’s clear to me that Pleasure Island is a human trafficking resort. And whatever is happening here . . . might break me.
Somehow, I manage to strip the offending piece of underwear someone put me in without my knowledge.
She is right, though. I can’t lose it. Not yet. Not when there is a chance my kids are here too.
She curls her lip at me, seeing my scars and a few tattoos I braved to do after the car crash like I repulse her.
“Scrub yourself clean. This is the last time you receive such kindness without earning it.”
Once water envelops me into its comforting embrace, my chest bur
st into a torrent of sobs. She watches me without any sympathy. Her ruthless gaze tells me she’s used to handling people. At least she lets me cry as if she knows I need it to accept my situation. And I do.
After I finish, she forces me in a flowy aquamarine summer dress with a high slit. She does my makeup and pushes sandals into my hands. Open toe flats she laces around my upper calf. I don’t fight her. While she straps them on, I scan my surroundings. Count windows and exits, and go through mental lists of what I need to know to be able to escape.
Where the hell I am? Has anyone noticed I’m missing? I hold back a whimper, thinking about my children. Did they catch them too, or was it a lie to make me comply?
I don’t dare to ask or show any distress. I bet I’m about to find out. And whatever it is, it might break me or give me the strength to fight. I just need to hang in there until my family realizes we’re gone.
Breathe, just keep breathing, don’t let panic settle in.
When the doors open, two armed men escort me down the corridor. Lucas once told me about a captive his Marine Corps failed to retrieve during the mission. Perhaps that’s why it stuck with me since my brother-in-law rarely talks about his work. We were training, and he was in the mood to make a point.
Observe your surroundings and your captors, count them, their patrolling patterns, and how well they are prepared. Keep track of time. Look around, are there cameras in place, a lock on the door or other security precautions? Bond with your captor, establish a relationship, be smart, don’t challenge them, don’t beg.
My skin coats in goose bumps as his words echo in my brain like a creepy warning from the past. I swallow my trepidation and keep looking around. It’s a huge mansion, with pillars and the pool, plush furniture, and cameras everywhere.
I’m led into an airy room on the ground floor with an inside pool and seating area, which has decadent, vibrant colors and patterns to enhance the space. Eight guards stationed around the room stand still like statues. A guard from behind me barks an order in a language I can’t decipher. And they usher out three naked women kneeling in the center of the room.
A guard nudges my shoulder, pointing his gun at me. I raise my hands to placate him and take a seat when he indicates where he wants me. My gaze soothes my handler, who followed us here, but she leaves me without a single word but a heartless look on her face.
Carved wooden double doors open, and Lester Belington strides into the room like he owns the world. His cruel gaze full of evil intent locks on me.
“I told you we’re going to meet again, Mrs. Cade.” He stops just a few feet away.
Keeping a lock on my emotions, I push myself to my feet. Drawing in tiny breaths, I keep my mouth shut even if I feel sick from worrying about my kids. His lips stretch into a mocking smile and then into a frown when I don’t react the way I should.
“I must admit, you fascinate me, Mrs. Cade. May I call you Cassandra?”
Not trusting my voice, I nod, digging my nails in my palms to curb my need to claw his eyes out.
“Most women if woken up as captives, would have had a panic attack, cried, begged, but not you.” He sounds impressed, even turned on by my restraint.
The way he analyzes me like he wants to figure me out makes me believe he loves to break strong and resilient women, take control of them. And I just presented him with a challenge. Shit!
“Please, take a seat.”
I sink to the sofa since I don’t think I can make through this conversation standing.
“Why am I here?” I force myself to ask, already knowing the answer, but I need to establish connection with him.
Lester appraises me. His eyes glint with dark approval while he sips dark liquid with ice from a crystal glass.
“I already told you.” He smirks, staring at me with his dark brown eyes that remind me of dark pits full of malice. “You fascinate me, and when a man like me finds something like you, he plucks it off the streets to fulfill his basic instincts.” His sadistic words maim me to the seat. Satisfied with the glint of fear on my face, he leans back, dissecting me like an insect.
By sheer willpower, I hold back my burning need to scream and run. “I have children, Mr. Belington. I’m a mother. I’m sure you could find young, willing beauties to fulfill your decadent desires.”
“But you, Cassandra, are a very unique jewel—broken, then mended back and finally polished to radiating perfection. Women like you aren’t easy to find or to make. I can’t wait to see you in a capable Master’s hands.”
I gasp. “Make?”
He throws his head back and laughs, filling the air with dread.
“Of all the things you ask me this? What will it take to really scare you, Cassandra?”
I stay silent, not willing to offer free information about my weaknesses. Lester’s narcissistic gaze becomes smug as all the color bleeds out of my face and my legs tingle.
“Very well, let’s play your way. We specialize in a very unique trade.”
My jaw locks in place and my nostrils flare as a sting nips my nose, but I don’t dare to blink.
“Our clients pay huge money for their custom-made toys. We polish an unpolished stone until it’s exactly the way they want it to be.”
“You mean you break them.” Words with a cutting edge slip through my lips before I can bind them.
“To make a pleasure toy, you must break one’s inhibitions, reshape her instincts, teach her of respect and submission.” He digs his penetrating gaze into mine, and I feel a vortex sucking me in. Even my soul curls inward so it could shield from this monster’s claws. “You’re a most prized possession in this place, so many will be fighting to get their hands on you, to own you.”
For a while, I sit there gasping like a fish without water, trying to pull back a tsunami of emotions bombarding my rupturing walls. Lester leisurely sips his drink as if I’m his personal entertainment station. With sickening revulsion, I realize the bastard feeds on my terror, already anticipating what he will do to me. Dread coils inside of me like a snake, slowly unmaking my restraints.
“I have huge plans for you. Don’t worry, we won’t devalue your worth,” he adds and my calm demeanor slips a little bit more.
“Why me?” I blink, surprised, then I muster the strength to ask. He casts his dark gaze toward me, arching his thick eyebrow in question. “You and Darren are business partners. Why risk it?”
His wicked laugh grates on my nerve endings, but I stop myself from kicking him in the throat just to stop that awful sound. The violent need smolders inside of me, decimating my stupor to ashes. And with that inner strength flaming under my skin, I sit straighter and my focus returns.
“You still don’t get it, do you, Cassandra? They don’t care what happens to you. They believe you killed their son. Why would they want you back? You’re just a hindrance to their perfect life.”
I blink, trying to get rid of the haze coating my eyesight as pain like a dull knife slices me. He might be right. After everything that happened to us, as a family, we are lost and broken.
“Did you think they’ll come to save you?” He sneers as I struggle with the truth.
“Perhaps not Helen or Darren, but I have people who love me.” My chin trembles, but I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stop it, holding onto faith with sheer willpower. He knows what he’s doing. He wants me to feel helpless and alone.
“Oh, yes, Leif and Lucas. Those boys were rebels since they started to walk.” He pauses, evaluating me before he delivers a punch to my guts. “Lucas has been summoned on a mission and won’t be around for a month or two. When he returns, it will be too late. And Leif has to protect his little daughter Maya and his wife. It takes little effort to make a man uneasy with their safety.”
My pulse pounds like a hammer against my skull. Black spots dot my vision, but I manage to blink them away, drawing a massive gulp of air into my burning lungs. I dig my nails into the sofa cushion to ask him what bothers me the most.
&nbs
p; “And Mark, do you believe he’ll just walk away?” I clear my throat as my heart fills up with the hope that there is another man who will not stop until he finds me.
“Oh, Cassandra.”
My blood chills as I see the gleam of depraved hunger in his dark gaze, consuming all the light from me.
“But he’s a star of the show. He’ll watch his beloved woman be claimed by a Master, and then be remade into a true piece of art.”
I fight nausea and dread, snaking into every cell of my fragile brain.
“Darren won’t stand aside and allow you to break him.” I don’t know if that’s true, but our last conversation makes me believe they love him and consider him their son.
His relaxed demeanor transforms into a ferocious mask in a blink of an eye. I brace myself, waiting for its talons to claw my heart out.
“But they will, since all they want is to have their dead son’s children back in their lives. They’ll sacrifice him for a chance to keep their family safe and sound. Not like Darren’s brother, who chose his lover over his son.”
He has my kids! This monster has my children!
My world shatters into tiny shards, raining down around his feet. My chest expands, but no air passes my lungs as the undiluted panic overflows me. The world dissolves in front of my eyes, and I fall into the abyss.
31
Lies and Deceits
~Cassandra~
Finally, I break down, unable to hold back the terror crashing against my heart and mind like a tsunami wave, tearing apart my sanity. My voice is gone from the tears I shed and screams that tore through my chapped lips as I begged them to let me see my children.
“Hurry up! You got just ten minutes and then I’ll send men to help you. Trust me, you don’t want them to get a chance to touch you again.”
The evil bitch hollers on the other side of the door, and I whimper, hugging myself as I try not to panic. My frame shakes as I remember my last lesson. They stripped me of my dignity, forced me naked on my knees to submit. Lester locked his cruel gaze on me. I understood the message. If I fight, he will hurt my kids. If I run, he will break them and sell to the clients as playthings. It was the first thing he promised me after I woke up.
Tangled IN LIES (Book#3, IN YOU) Page 29
