by Becca Van
“What’s the problem?” Gary asked as he stared at the unconscious woman.
Turner handed over the camera without a word. Gary’s demeanor changed from relaxed to taut within moments as he scrolled through the pictures. “Son of a fucking bitch. Who did this to her?”
Turner reached into his pocket, pulled out some papers, and handed them over. They must have been the club rules that Mitchell partially filled out. Barry handed her license over, too. “We suspect the Dom she was with hurt her, but we can’t prove anything.”
“Fuck.” Gary spun away and began pacing and then turned back again. “I know this asshole. He’s been up on assault charges before. He pretends he’s a Dom and lures in innocent women and then he works them over. I’ll get someone to pick the fucker up.” Gary moved out into the hallway as he pulled his cell from his pocket and flipped it open, but Tank knew until Gary got Emma’s statement, if she was willing to give one, the asshole couldn’t be arrested, just brought in for questioning.
“I made note of his license plate.” Barry walked out into the hall to recite the number to Gary before returning to hold Charlie tight.
Tank glanced back toward the bed when Emma moved and gave a moan of pain. He sat on the edge of the bed opposite Jack and stroked her hair, trying to convey comfort and safety. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked a few times as if her vision was blurry. She had the sweetest, most soulful brown eyes he had ever seen, but it killed him inside to see them glazed over with fever, pain, and medication. No doubt the drugs Jack had given her were beginning to work.
“Shh, Emma, you’re safe now, darlin’. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Emma whimpered and blinked again, and then her muscles tightened and her breathing escalated. Before he could stop her, she sprang to her hands and knees and crawled up to the top of the bed. Tears leaked from her eyes and tracked down over her white face. She moaned with pain but didn’t stop moving until her back was up against the wooden headboard. She flinched and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her eyes darted around the room as she took in all the men.
“Emma.” Tank spoke firmly, hoping the sound of his voice would get through her fear. When her eyes landed on him, he kept talking. “You are safe here, honey. No one is going to hurt you. Mitchell has gone and won’t get near you again.” He held a hand out to her and waited to see if she would take his offer of help. “Why don’t we get you back under the covers, darlin’?”
“Emma,” Jack said quietly, “I’ve treated your wounds and given you some antibiotics and painkillers. I’m Jack Williams, a GP. This is Anton Taylor, but everyone calls him Tank because he’s such a big bastard. I promise no one will harm you, sweetie. Come and lie down until those painkillers kick in.”
Tank wanted to pick her up and hold her in his arms, but he knew that if he made any sudden moves, she would try to scramble farther away, and he didn’t want her to put more pressure on her back. Some of the welts must be turning infected if Jack was prescribing an antibiotic and Emma had a fever. God knew how long she had been in the clutches of that fucker. He wondered if the asshole had kidnapped her and, if she was missing, if someone had reported her disappearance to the police. As much as he wanted to know, this wasn’t the time to hammer her with questions.
Her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to be having trouble focusing, but when Gary entered the room again, she used her feet to push into the mattress, pressing her back against the headboard. Gary must have seen her fear. He halted in his tracks.
Charlie withdrew from Barry’s arms and moved closer to the bed. She smiled at Emma and nudged Jack away, making room to sit closer to the frightened woman.
“Hi, Emma, I’m Charlene but everyone calls me Charlie. Would you like to lie down again? You don’t look so good.” Charlie slowly reached out and rubbed Emma’s foot. When she didn’t flinch away, Charlie kept right on offering the woman comfort.
“I promise that you’re safe here. No one will hurt you. We want to help you.”
Seeming totally oblivious to the fact that she was nearly naked, Emma slowly released one of her arms from around her legs and grasped Charlie’s hand tightly. “I have to leave. He will come back and kill me. He told me if I didn’t please him tonight then he would slash my throat.”
Tank felt the fury rising up inside him but didn’t let it show since he didn’t want to frighten Emma any more than she already was. He glanced over to the other men and saw the same rage in their eyes, but they, too, kept their expressions blank.
“He can’t get to you here, Emma. You’re safe, I promise.” Charlie kept her voice soft, but Tank could see the pain she tried to hide at Emma’s condition and her terror.
Gary stepped toward the bed but halted again when Emma sobbed and cringed away. Her eyelids were so heavy she was barely keeping them open. Tank knew it wouldn’t be long before she finally succumbed to the effects of the drugs. Her head sagged slightly and she blinked. Her lids struggled to open again, and she only managed to open them to mere slits. Then her head slumped backward, and she began to sag.
Tank caught her before her head could connect with the wooden headboard, but she was unconscious before he even touched her.
He looked up at Jack and Gary. His friends’ faces were pale. Tank knew exactly how they felt as he looked back to the woman in his arms.
What did he do to you, little one?
Chapter Two
Jack was so full of rage he didn’t know how he had kept it hidden from little Emma Macintosh. He wanted to hunt down the asshole who had hurt her and kill him with his bare hands, and that was so against his own caring personality it worried even him. When Emma finally gave up the fight against the painkillers he’d given her, he sighed with relief and then turned toward Gary.
“I want to know everything there is to know about her. Where her family is, who she works for, and how long that fucker had her.”
“I’m already on it, Jack. God, I can’t wait to get hold of that fucker.” Gary glanced toward the sleeping Emma. “She is so damn petite it’s a wonder he didn’t kill her.”
“As far as I can tell, the damage was done with a whip, at least recently,” Jack said. “There are no signs of broken bones, but she had a few bruises on her legs, too. God knows what she’s had to endure.”
“We have to keep her safe,” Tank said with a sigh. “I think she really believes that Mitchell will kill her if he gets his hands on her again.”
“I do, too,” Gary said. “He’s escalated from his last assault. Once she’s awake, I’ll get a statement. Did she say anything to any of you before she spoke to Charlie?”
“No,” Jack answered and turned to Tank.
“No. She didn’t speak at all. If she hadn’t begun to sweat and then pass out she would still be with that motherfucker.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Turner stepped forward and drew Charlie back into his arms when she moved away from the bed. “You know that every monitor in this place would have stepped in as soon as that asshole had removed her corset.”
“He’s right,” Barry said. “That bastard wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in here.”
“I’m just fucking glad that prick brought her here. At least I was able to treat her and we all know she’s safe, even if she doesn’t.” Jack rose to his feet and began to pace. He looked over at his two best friends and housemates, Tank and Gary. They looked just as livid as he felt, but he saw the underlying yearning when they, too, looked at Emma. It seemed they were drawn to the petite woman, too.
He pushed those thoughts aside. What mattered most at the moment was getting Emma well and keeping her safe.
“I want to stay with her,” Tank said as he sat on the side of the bed and stroked the hair back from her face.
“Me, too.” Emma was such a pretty little thing. Even under the room’s harsh fluorescent lights, the light red strands in her shoulder-length, chestnut-colored hair glinted. He wanted to lean over
and kiss the creamy white skin of her delicate shoulders and work his way up her slender neck and over to her lush lips. Even though she was small in stature, Emma was all woman, with curves and dips in all the right places. He had glimpsed her lush breasts after he’d treated her injuries. He would almost believe they were too large for her petite frame, too heavy for such a small woman to have to carry. They would fill his large hands perfectly. Her breasts were full and perky, and to him she was absolutely perfect.
Jack mentally cursed and pushed his lust aside. The last thing little Emma needed, was his and Tank’s arousal being obvious to her and making her run.
Movement close by caused him to turn and meet Gary’s eyes as his friend came closer to the bed.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Shit, what makes a woman stay with such a bastard?” Gary scrubbed his hand over his face as if weary. And Jack figured he probably was. He dealt with this sort of shit on a regular basis. He was a hard-assed Dom but he was also one of the most protective people he knew. Gary was the first to jump in without a thought to his own safety in protecting the innocents of the world.
“Who said she wanted to be with him?” Tank rose to his feet, moved across the room and snagged an armchair, then pulled it close to the bed and sat down. “You yourself said that you know this Mitchell fucker. Who knows how they met, but I don’t think she seems the type to stay with someone who would abuse her.”
“He’s right, you know,” Turner said as the others began to clear the room. Charlie left with Barry, and Turner was moving toward the door, too. “Don’t jump to any conclusions about little Miss Emma. Wait until she’s awake and then question her. I believe I can leave her in your capable hands?”
“You know you can.” Jack waved him away. “We’ll take good care of her.”
Turner studied him and then Tank and Gary. “Yes. I believe you will. Call me if you need anything.” Turner left.
“So what are we going to do?” Tank looked at his two friends.
“We take one step at a time,” Gary said, not taking his eyes off of Emma as he sat on a chair across the room.
Jack sat back in his chair and settled in for a long night. Emma was going to need a lot of caring to help her heal.
* * * *
Emma whimpered as the asshole strapped her cuffed wrists to the chain hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. His green eyes were blank of all expression and chillingly cold, and even his smile was full of malevolence. Her panic and fear increased. She was so scared she could barely get enough air into her lungs as her breath panted in and out of her open mouth, rushing past her teeth. Shivers and shudders wracked her body, and her trembling legs felt so weak she wondered how she was still standing on her toes.
He turned away and walked over to the wooden bench on the far side of the warehouse and rummaged around for something. When he spun back around she could see the evil and insanity in his eyes. He lifted his hand and bared his teeth at her. Emma’s eyes dropped to his hand. She tugged against the restraints as fear permeated her body and her heart beat so hard and fast she wondered if it would burst out of her chest.
The leather cuffs at her wrists burned her flesh as she pulled and twisted, trying to get away from him, but she couldn’t get any purchase as he had her on the very tips of her toes. Even though she knew her efforts were futile, she couldn’t give up. She had to escape or she would die trying. A hysterical bubble of laughter formed in her chest and traveled up her throat to escape her mouth, sounding like a wounded, laughing hyena. The light from the bare bulb above her head shone on the metal in his hand, and tears ran down her cheeks.
He stopped in front of her. She looked into those evil, blank eyes and saw her own death. She screamed when he raised the scissors toward her and then screamed again as he began cutting her clothes away from her body. His laughter was a grating, malicious sound which scraped her already ragged nerves.
Her clothes fell away, leaving her feeling cold, vulnerable, and exposed. Her skin crawled as he ran his eyes over her body. She felt so dirty. She shuddered with fear, and her legs buckled as the scissors in his hand moved toward her once more. He chuckled as he cut away a lock of her hair and then brought it to his nose, sniffing. Pain radiated from her shoulders and down her arms, the only things holding her suspended weight up. When he walked away, she sighed at the temporary reprieve and was able to get her fear under control. He was back at the bench, and she prayed to God that someone would find her and help her.
Please God. Please save me.
Emma sobbed as he strode back toward her, resolve and aggression in every step. He had what looked like a whip in his hand. Oh God. Please. He stopped in front of her and stared into her eyes and then he winked at her. Nausea roiled in her stomach. He moved again, walking behind her, and bile rose in her throat with terror and anxiety.
What’s he doing? Oh please God. Help me!
The whoosh was almost drowned out by the pounding of her own heart and panting breaths, but the crack was loud even to her ears. Emma screamed in pain as the lash landed and fiery hot agony radiated out across her back. She screamed over and over as the thick leather landed again and again. Her back was a mass of burning hurt, and she felt small trickles over her agonized flesh. She was bleeding. It felt like he had cut her back wide open with each lick of the whip against her sensitive flesh. Her body was hot, and yet she shivered with cold. Please, please, please.
He released the cuffs from the chain, and she slumped against him. She didn’t want him holding her, but she couldn’t stand on her own. Her shoulders ached, and her hands began to tingle as blood flowed back into her limbs. She tried to push him away, but she was so weak and in so much pain that she had no strength left. He picked her up and carried her to the bed in the corner of the room, dumping her there. She screamed as her tortured back connected with fabric.
She couldn’t see. She wondered if she had closed her eyes. The blackness of her vision spread into her mind, and she gratefully sank into oblivion.
* * * *
When the first whimper left Emma’s mouth and she struggled in her sleep with the quilt covering her, Gary jumped up from his chair and rushed over to her side. Her scream pierced the air and she sat up, her arms flailing as tears ran down her face. Her eyelids were open, but he knew she wasn’t seeing the here and now from the glazed look in her eyes.
“Jesus,” Gary said as he grabbed her arms above her bruised wrists so she wouldn’t hurt herself. Tank had beaten him to the bed and had her over his lap, trying to restrain her, too. He moved around to stand in front of her in case Tank needed help
She kicked out and pegged him in the chest with her little feet, screaming again and again. Jack was on his feet at the side of the bed, rummaging around in his bag, and he came up with a needle.
“Hold her still!” Jack barked out the order but Gary was already on it. Tank had wrapped his arms around hers as well as her chest so she couldn’t move her upper body. Gary gripped her ankles and held them down until he could crawl on the bed. He straddled her legs and carefully used his weight to keep them still. She didn’t stop screaming and struggling, but between him and Tank, they had her restrained. Jack swabbed her upper arm near her shoulder and then pricked her skin and plunged the medicine into her body. After a few minutes, her struggles lessened and she finally slumped in Tank’s hold.
Gary shifted off her legs and sat on the side of the bed. “What the fuck did that asshole do to her?”
Tank shifted out from behind her and lifted her up into his arms. Between the three of them, they got her settled on her side and covered her up with the quilt. He sighed with relief at her deep, even breathing, a testament to the sedative working at calming her panicked nightmare.
“Have they picked that fucker up yet?” Jack asked as he carefully disposed of the needle in the small sharps bucket he always carried in his bag.
“I would have heard if they had.”
“You think he’s run?
” Tank asked as he settled back in the chair at the bedside.
“That would be my guess,” Gary said with a sigh. “Until we have her statement I can’t put out an APB on him. We don’t have any proof of what he’s done. At the moment he’s only a person of interest. Shit. We’re gonna have to wait until she wakes up, and then there is no guarantee that she will want him to be arrested. Did you check her for sexual assault?”
“There weren’t any signs to say she had been raped,” Jack snarled and then ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. I wanted to check her over more thoroughly, but until she is conscious I didn’t feel right about doing that.”
Gary nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that. She probably already feels like she’s been violated. Until she wakes there’s not much we can do. How long will that sedative work?”
“Normally just a couple of hours, but we’ll have to wait and see. Who knows how her body is going to respond to what it’s been through. I’d say he’s had her for a couple of days from her injuries but I could be wrong.” Jack shrugged.
“I doubt it,” Gary replied. “You’re hardly ever wrong when it comes to anything medical.”
“Maybe,” Jack sighed.
Tank settled back in the armchair and stared at Emma, concern for the little woman emanating from his face. Jack sat as well and closed his eyes. Within moments his breathing had evened out as he dozed. Being a doctor and having served in the armed forces, he’d learned to nap just about anywhere, just as Gary and Tank had. But Gary was still too angry and pent up to sleep. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Three
Emma was so warm and comfortable she didn’t want to move. Her back was still sore, but the pain had lessened. Thank you, God. She was in that place where sleep and wakefulness came together, but she didn’t want to open her eyes and face her nightmare again. Where is he? She listened intently as her body pulled her to consciousness, but she couldn’t hear anything. Hopefully he had left her alone and she could try and escape.
