Canvas (The Program Book 1)

by N. M. Catalano

  “Yes,” I force out past the vice grip around my throat.

  “Then fix that first, the door can wait.”

  The vice grip tightens.

  Fuckfuckfuck!

  “I’m going to,” is all I can manage. “Do you know who sent this?”

  “No, it was waiting on the porch when I got home from the store yesterday,” she shakes her head.

  “Did you see anyone, did someone come by?”

  Steve must have put everything in motion after he saw me at Summer’s shop. He felt threatened and made this fucking plan.

  “No,” it doesn’t matter, I know who’s responsible and where he’s taking her. “Just bring her home,” the woman states.

  “I will.”

  Home.

  To me.

  Where she fucking belongs.

  Summer

  CHAPTER 21

  My head is throbbing, my stomach feels sick, and my mouth is taped shut.

  Oh, my God! The package!

  My eyes fly open as horror consumes me.

  “You’re awake.”

  Steve.

  STEVE!

  I try to raise a hand to slap his face, it’s now right in front of mine, but I can’t. My hands are bound. I try to kick out at him, but I can’t do that either, my feet are tied as well. Panic quickly joins the horror when I realize what’s happening.

  Oh, my God! HE’S my fiancé! I knew he looked familiar but I ignored my instincts. He’s different than the pictures I’ve seen of him. It’s his hair, he bleached it. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!

  We’ve never met, the marriage was arranged by our fathers, he was off at school, or overseas, or doing whatever privileged boys do while their father rapes their intended brides and sets them up in a deal to secure their financial monopoly. He never came home to meet me. He was always too busy.

  I was only a bonus in a business transaction. For both of them. Everyone except me.

  I quickly realize I have no idea where I am. I’m on a bed lying down, the furnishings are nice, and Steve’s sitting in a chair next to me.

  How did he get me here? He must have taken me after I passed out. This must be his place.

  “Summer, Summer, Summer, what did you think?” he gets up and hovers above me. “That you could just leave and play your little game of cute little coffee shop owner, (his voice drips condescension), and slum around with lowlifes like that tattoo scum?” he gives me an innocent smile. If I could get my hands free, I’d slap that smug grin off his pretty boy face. “I have to admit it was fun playing our little game for a while. I rather enjoyed the chase, it was…refreshing,” he comments. Then his expression hardens and becomes dark. A cold chill slithers up my spine. “He thought he could make a fool out of me,” his face inches closer to mine, “and so did you. Guess what, you fucking slut,” my eyes widen, “yes, I know you spent the night with him, filthy whore.” I suck in a breath. This can’t be happening! “The joke is on you. They’re on their way to take us back home. And you’re going to pay for running away and disgracing me.” He grips my chin hard, his fingers digging into my jaw. “So is he.”

  Stay calm! You suffered his father for years, you can get through this!

  I force myself to relax under his grip. I need to make him think I want to be here with him. I have to keep him calm so he doesn’t hurt me. I let out a long breath and my body follows, each limb loosens individually, then my entire body relaxes. I have to de-escalate the situation. My eyes flutter as I force myself to pull the mask I wore for years over my features and be the compliant female they want. With the tape over my mouth, this is the best I can do. Finally, when I feel I’m that girl once again that had to face the world every day, night after night, month after month, year after year, of being used and degraded and raped, having to give them that expression that says everything is perfect, that I’m fine and everything’s wonderful, I look Steve in the eyes.

  He looks at me questioningly. “What are you up to?”

  I shake my head once and shrug a shoulder, hoping that will say, ‘Nothing.’

  He narrows his eyes studying me.

  I wait for him to make a move, to say something, to tell me which direction he’s going to go. Although we were engaged, I don’t know him, I’ve never met him, but his father did a wonderful job of making me…flexible. Fortunately for me, my father was the master manipulator, and I was a very good pupil. I’ll take Steve’s lead and hopefully I can take it from there.

  Finally, after a long pause, he asks with a sly grin, “You know who I am, don’t you?”

  I don’t know what to say. Do I admit knowing him, even without recognizing him all these months? If I tell him I do, is it going to help me or hurt me?

  I make a decision. One I hope isn’t the wrong one.

  I dip my chin once in acknowledgement.

  Yes, I know who you are, you’re sick, deranged scum, just like your father, just like all of them at The Club. I HATE you!

  A broad, satisfied grin spreads across his cold expression. “Well, that will make things easier, won’t it, Ms. Hollingsworth?” my name makes me cringe. “We’re both adults, and because you are my fiancé, (that makes me cringe even more), you belong to me. Therefore, if that Neanderthal should get any ideas of false gallantry, he will be held liable.”

  My heart does a hopeful flip and it takes all the years of pretending and hiding to keep it from showing.

  Rock!

  But realization squashes any and all hope of him coming for me.

  It was just sex. Besides, how would he even know Steve took me? He has no idea who I am or where I came from. No one does.

  Despair and dread engulf me, two doors in the cell I’m going back to, one that I’m sure I’ll never be able to escape from again.

  DON’T do this to yourself, Summer! You didn’t need anyone before to get away. Keep it together, you’ll find a way to escape Steve!

  Steve is still talking, rambling on in his nasal drone, Why did I not notice how annoying his voice is before?

  Probably because he hadn’t kidnapped me before, and I made every attempt to ignore every single thing about him except his coffee order.

  “Everything has been arranged, Summer. The ceremony will be next week. Our fathers thought it would allow a story to be sent out to the members of how you came to me overseas because you couldn’t bear to be apart from me any longer. That will explain your disappearance.”

  Gag, gag, gag! Don’t make me sick! Me go to you? Not even if you were the last man on earth! Even if HE wasn’t your father, you are the last man I would ever marry.

  He continues, obviously to himself because I’m still gagged and bound and am completely unable to participate in this delusional conversation.

  “They’re already spreading the word of our return and that you insist on a speedy wedding. That you cannot bear not being my wife one day more.”

  What a sick, twisted man! Are you fucking insane?! You must be, that’s the only explanation. They’re all deranged over there.

  I need to get him to trust me. I have to get him to let down his guard. He’s not looking at me, but off in the distance, or at his fingernails, or tugging at a string that’s not there on his slacks. But he doesn’t stop talking.

  “Your gown is almost ready; we’ll be back in perfect time for your final fitting. I made certain it meets my standards,” finally, he turns his eyes to mine. “You can thank me when you see it, you don’t have to now.”

  NOW. Look at him like you adore him, like you worship the ground he walks on, like you love him more than life itself.

  GAG, GAG, GAG!

  And I do, I give him the sappiest, most sincere puppy dog eyes ever in the history of love filled eyes. I look at him so sweetly, you could make cotton-candy from my tears if I were crying right now. Because you can bet I really, really want to.

  Acknowledgement registers on his features, I can see it penetrating his self-absorbed ramblings.

  “Summ
er,” his look becomes heated. “Would you like to thank me now?”

  Steve palms my breast, I force myself not to cringe away repulsed by his touch, as he painfully squeezes it.

  I can do this, it’s just my body. It’s been defiled thousands of times before by his father. It means nothing!

  I nod slowly never breaking our gaze.

  “When I first arrived in this hovel, I had hopes we could begin our relationship,” another painful squeeze. “I knew you would be so happy when I told you, you were the lucky one that’s meant to be my bride,” just shut up and get this over with! This time he twists it, hard, What the hell? “But you were so distant. I finally realized you were scared.”

  Let him think whatever he wants as long as it gets me what I need.

  I nod again and turn up the sickly adoration in my stare.

  He grips my jaw again roughly and his eyes turn hard.

  “I’ve been wondering about your training, Summer,” he says. His tone sends a cold shiver through me. “I know how stern my father can be, I’ve spent a lifetime with him. Why do you think I left and never came back?” his expression shifts to anger before it becomes sinister. “I’m quite certain he was thorough. But I have no doubt it’s nowhere near up to my standards and needs.”

  As hard as I try, I can’t stop my eyes from widening in terror.

  He smiles. But there’s absolutely nothing pleasant about it.

  “I can’t stand the thought of touching you after that vile dog, not until you’re properly cleaned. But,” he rips the duct tape from my face.

  I scream. God, how I scream. The pain is a blistering, searing burn, I’m sure he’s pulled layers of skin from my face.

  His smile gets bigger.

  “Oh, yes, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy your training, Summer.” He drags a fingernail around the raw skin of my mouth.

  I whimper from the pain as streams of tears roll unchecked down my cheeks.

  “You know, I thought that your rebellious streak would be a hindrance.” He pokes the sharp edge of the nail into the raw skin. I moan from the stabbing burn. “But I do believe I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.” He laughs. It’s diabolical and borders on completely unhinged. “We might just be a match made in heaven after all, Summer. How lucky for us.”

  He’s insane. He’s a psychotic who gets off on torture!

  I thought I’d left hell behind. I thought things couldn’t have gotten any worse than they’d been for years. In my most desperate moments trapped inside The Club, I’d even thought that maybe, just maybe, once I’d married Steve I might have a life I would not hate.

  Those were musings of a child, of a little girl who still believed there might be a happily ever after, that in the end, things always worked out for the best no matter how horrible the road had been to get there. Even after I’d run away I’d always feared they’d find me, I probably always knew they would, their power is too great, their reach too far, I still hoped in the tiniest part of me that it would all eventually be okay.

  I realize now without a shadow of a doubt I had never, ever been so wrong.

  “I do believe we should start your training now, Summer,” Steve begins to open my pants, the rasp of the zipper screaming at me. “I think it would be best to get you ready to go home,” I start to shake my head side to side.

  No, no, no…

  He grins at me as he pushes my pants down, his face inching closer to mine. “Yes, yes, I do, you’re mine, Summer. Mine to do what I want, when I want, however I want.”

  My head is moving side to side faster.

  NO!

  All thought and plans to manipulate him have vanished. Survival and protection is my only concern at this moment. What’s staring back at me from Steve’s eyes is not a man engaged to woman, but a monster.

  A demon without a soul.

  “Don’t worry,” he cocks his head at me. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine; you’ve had the second best teacher. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be the man I am.” He lets out a menacing chuckle. “If he only knew how I’ve mastered the skills.”

  I’m trembling so hard my teeth are crashing together.

  This can’t be happening! Dear God, don’t let him, please!

  With a final shove, my jeans are around my ankles as I lie on the bed.

  “Time to get you clean and ready, Summer, then we can begin.”

  NOOOOO!

  I try to roll away when he pushes himself up, but he grabs me by my hair and yanks me back. I pull my knees up to cover myself, but he’s too fast. He captures one of my knees with one hand and wedges himself between my legs, holding me immobile by my hair.

  “What the fuck is this?!” he roars.

  The word hunger across my bald mound is staring him in the face, along with take up one inner thigh and possess up the other, branding Rock onto my skin and mocking Steve with his claim.

  “You FUCKING SLUT!” he slaps me so hard across the face, the impact makes a cracking sound and I’m sure he broke my jaw, the pain is that excruciating.

  He stands up, my hair still clutched in his hand.

  “I’m going get that fucking filth off of you, even if I have to cut your goddam skin off to do it,” he growls as he drags me behind him across the floor.

  “Please Steve, stop, I’ll get it off, I promise,” I wail quietly through the pain.

  He stops and turns around.

  “Shut. Up! Do not speak to me unless I ask you a question,” he commands before he kicks me in the ribs.

  Stabbing pain and bolts of terror consume me.

  “I am going to teach you a lesson, Summer. No one will see it, but every time you move, with each blink of your eye, every single fucking breath you take, you are going to remember it.”

  ROCK

  CHAPTER 22

  By the time I got back to my motorcycle, I had Steve’s address. One of Sasha’s friends, one that Snake had been screwing, is a real estate agent in town and she gave him the information without any question.

  Thankfully, we’re handling this on our own without having to notify anyone in The Program. Without knowing Summer’s father’s affiliations, I have no idea what kind of power and resistance he could bring with him. All I have is the information provided during the phone call, which was a lot, but it still isn’t enough to tell me everything. The file is due to be delivered today or tomorrow.

  I needed it yesterday, not the goddamn phone call.

  It doesn’t fucking matter.

  She’s gone. Steve took her. I have no idea what he’s capable of. Considering the shit-life she came out of, the life her father condoned and was well aware of, hell, he approved it, I’m going to assume it’s the fucking worst.

  I want her back.

  I’m getting her back no matter who’s standing in my way.

  The boys are meeting me at Steve’s house.

  We’re moving in quietly and doing all that we can not to attract any attention. We also have the element of surprise.

  This is a very small town. Everyone for five miles probably knows we’re here. That reason alone gave us the information that Steve is still home.

  As it turns out, one of Gwendolyn’s friends lives two doors down and works until midnight. It just so happens the girl has trouble falling asleep and most nights’ stays awake until well after the sun comes up. Gwen called her when Sasha phoned her real estate agent friend and we knew where Steve lives. The girl had told Gwen Steve wasn’t at home when she arrived at her house, but was there later. His lights were on until late last night, early this morning, and that his car hasn’t moved at all since. We also know that no one else has come and gone from the house.

  This means no one else from The Club has arrived.

  Thank God for nosy neighbors.

  I know almost exactly how long he’s had her, the filthy little prick. What I don’t know is how he got her to go with him. My mind is playing cruel tricks with me in all different scenarios, from her going wil
lingly, wanting to be with him, to him forcefully taking her, drugging her, and laying his fucking hands on her. I’m going with the latter for the mere fact she ran away from that place, that sick life, and everything and everyone that had anything to do with it.

  I pull up right to the front fucking door on my bike. I’m not sneaking in, we aren’t going to bash the door in. Unless we have to. Bull roars in right behind me with Gringo and Snake in his truck.

  I cut the engine and lower the kickstand as I tell them, “Two of you go around the back. Get eyeballs on every goddamn way in and out of here.”

  As I approach the front door, Snake right behind me, (gone is the impassive man, what’s standing with me is the killer), Bull and Gringo circle around the two story house, one around the left, the other the right. Each of us are carrying a weapon, but none of us have it drawn. We’ll give Steve the opportunity to deal with us without them. If he shoots, he dies. With pleasure. Give me a reason, motherfucker. As I raise my hand to knock on the door, I hear him yelling. I can’t make out what he’s saying, all the windows are closed, but I can tell he’s angry.

  “GODDAMMIT!” I growl as I pound on the door.

  The seconds seem like an eternity as I listen for movement, for any sound to come from inside. All of my training yells at me to bust the fucking door in and get her away from him. But I can’t. This is a civilian situation, not military, and we’re not the police.

  Finally, he replies. “Who’s there?!”

  His voice is distant; it sounds like it’s coming from upstairs. I don’t want him to know it’s us, although if he looks out the windows he can see our vehicles. I’d rather have him think we’re law enforcement.

  “OPEN UP,” I pound on the door again.

  Another long fucking pause.

  “Darling, it’s the tattoo scum. Shall we invite him in so we can tell him about the wedding?” comes Steve’s pathetic drone.

  My hands clench with the need to wrap them around his neck and tear his fucking head from his body.

  Summer screams. “ROOOOOOOCK!!!”