I want to close my eyes. I want to shut off the world I’ve found myself in and pretend this is just a nightmare. That I’ll wake up and I’ll be in Quinn’s bed in his hotel and he’ll be as charming as he was during dinner and when I slept with him.
It’s a ridiculous fantasy. The humming from my voice dies down and makes way for more gasps and groans from the footage. The woman is now on her knees being taken from behind and being held by two others, with the last man forcing his dick into her mouth. It’s vile. But I can’t turn my head. I can’t look away before my eyes sneak back to the screen.
I want it to stop, but it plays on. The woman is continually violated. She’s passed around the men like a piece of meat. The fight has left her limbs. She no longer struggles, like a part of her has accepted her fate. The men don’t give up and fuck her again and again, taking turns, and sometimes raping her together.
I bow my head and cry, imagining the fear and disgust the woman must be going through until the noises quieten. My notes build in my chest, and I force them out, drowning out the last pleas. The light from the screen highlights the vomit and urine on the floor around my chair, and despair engulfs me.
Chapter Nine
Chicago
My hand turns the volume up in my bedroom as I towel off my hair and stare at my screen. She’s there for me to see, my dirty little girl, still letting her tears and sobs come as she tries not to watch the fucking around her. She feels it, though. I can tell by the way she twitches in the chair and keeps flicking her gaze anywhere but the entertainment I’ve provided for her.
It’s been on loop for a while now, past debts being paid. That woman begged and pleaded for her life as her husband watched on. Others over the years have done what our world does best—they paid the debt quietly. Took it for their family’s lives. My own mother knows that feeling well enough, two weeks paying off my father’s debts.
Never again will we be in that situation.
I drop the towel and head through the room, trying to wake myself up. I got an hour or two of sleep as we travelled here. I was too busy watching Emily to care for more, some inherent fascination I haven’t quite come to terms with yet keeping me wired. She’s had a straight ten hours from England to here, helped by the drugs to keep her under.
I snort, remembering her face as she woke up, finally understanding what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Some friend Jenny is. Jenny should be smothered in her sleep for such deceit. Although, it’s made me consider if she might be useful to my business. Deviance like that deserves a medal in some respects. Clever, if not disloyal.
“Quinn?” I turn out of the bedroom at the sound of Josh’s voice downstairs, instantly muting the sound of past debts, and head downstairs towards him. Not that I care if he hears. He is a Cane after all and not dense to our fucked up sensibilities, but I do care if he knows Emily’s five feet beneath us. “You back?” He knows I am or he wouldn’t have dared walk in here.
“Yeah,” I reply, tucking my towel around my waist, and trying to work out why I’m keeping her here a secret. No one knows about her. Only Shifty, and he only knows because he carried her onto the plane before we took off.
“Where you been?” I stare at him as I cross through the stark, white lounge, picking up my phone from the glass coffee table as I go. He looks like shit, as if he’s had a hard night on the booze and fucking anything that moves.
“Why is that relevant to you?”
“Wondered.” I narrow my gaze and glance at the crumpled Armani he’s trying to wear, considering what he’s about to ask me for. Little brother only ever comes to me when he’s fucked something up.
“What have you done, Josh?”
“Nothing.” He follows me as I raise my brow and head for the kitchen. “It’s just that I thought we could hang out, you know, brothers?” I scowl and turn back to the counter, swiping my watch and dice on the way. Brothers? We couldn’t be further from each other if we tried. I’ve made it that way to keep him away from things he doesn’t need to know.
“I haven’t got time, Josh,” I reply, walking back towards the stairs to get dressed. No time or inclination. I’ve got a dirty girl to play with and business to attend to. The last thing I want is to babysit and attempt to play happy families. We’re not. We’re Cane blood. Nothing is happy here other than that fact. My only commitment to him is making sure he stays alive and safe.
That’s all.
“You want something to do? Go see Mother. Keep her contented. Or Father.”
The last of my words are muttered beneath my breath, irritation lacing my tone as I think of the lie Josh believes is true. Fucking happy families. He thinks the sun shines out of our father’s backside, that he cares for Mother and us. He doesn’t. He cares about this business I run, the money it makes, and the name attached to it.
“I’m fucking bored, Quinn. I want some responsibility. I’m a Cane, too.”
I snort as my feet take the stairs back up, then glare across my shoulder as he begins following me. He stops immediately, a frown etching his face. He knows better than to come into my home and treat it like his own. He’s got his own place to go roaming around.
“Go home, Josh. Sleep it off.”
“I deserve a fucking place in this business,” he snaps, stamping his feet like a damned toddler. I swing back to him, my feet coming back down at pace.
“To do what?” He goes pale and takes a step away, remembering the last time he raised his voice to me. That didn’t end well for his face. “Come on, Josh. What? What can you do?”
“Nate’s involved,” he mutters petulantly. I glare at the comeback. Of course Nathan is. Nathan counts numbers as well as I do. He’s the accountant, running the entirety of this business’s money once it’s been laundered and is useable to us. He keeps us clean in the eyes of the Feds and any other fucker who dares look into us. The few I can’t buy off, anyway. This fuck up couldn’t count to twenty if his life depended on it. I stare, unsure how to handle the situation in front of me. Maybe it is about time he did something. Maybe it would reel him back in from his extravagance. Fuck knows. “I just feel like I’m on the outside all the time, Quinn.” There’s a weakness in his voice that softens whatever irritation was beginning to build in me.
“You are, Josh. It’s safe there. Mother would want that.” I shake my head at him and move to go back up the stairs.
“Fuck safe. I’m not a baby.” I keep walking up the stairs, more interested in getting back to my dirty girl than the hissy fit that’s about to erupt from his mouth. “I’m a man, Quinn. Let me prove it.” The thought makes me snort again and roll my dice, wondering if the dick needs a dose of fate delivering. “I can do Cane business, Quinn. I can.”
“Close the door on your way out, Josh. I’m busy.”
The slamming door doesn’t go unnoticed, but I’m too engrossed in Emily again to care. I lean back into my chair and rub my scar, slowly raising the volume on the screen. Groaning and fucking assaults the airways again, lifting my mood to one of amusement rather than family responsibilities. Damned child. Even my dirty little girl’s got more about her than he has.
She still sits down there, apparently dried up of tears and sobs now. And she’s humming that fucking tune again. It’s constant, like a noise interfering with my mind. It nearly drowns out the grunts and high pitched wailing of fucking, bringing tranquillity over what should be a cruelty chamber.
It pisses me off, and the roll of my dice slows as I think of my next move with her. I don’t even know why I brought her here. Pay off the debt? That other whore owes me money, not this girl. I could have had my fun and let her go after the one night. Found Jenny instead. I didn’t want to. I wanted more time with her. Unfortunately for her, I know fuck all about dating. I know pain and how to amuse myself with it. High-end cunt usually does the job nicely, but one night with something real and I stuck that needle in her neck myself, ready to fly her here without any other thought on the matter. She ju
st didn’t wake up after she fell asleep in my arms. I got dressed, got her dressed, and then called Shifty to make the arrangements.
I didn’t see her again until we were on the plane.
I frown at the image of her arms bound to the chair, then continue down her skin and see a pool of piss at her bound feet, vomit to the left of them. The vision makes me sneer at my own interest in it, some perverse part of me enjoying her embarrassment, the other uncomfortable with it.
Finally, dressing myself, I go to her, crossing through my pristine lounge and heading to the back stairs to the gym. The doors slam as I enter, my hand helping the movement so she knows I’m coming for her. The thought amuses me. Perhaps it’s the pitiful little whimpers that fall from her mouth, or maybe it’s the way she smiles and giggles, like some fresh new thing that should be broken in.
I cross the expansive room full of weights and gym equipment, bypassing the corridor to the pool, and head through the back passage to the room I deem appropriate for something that needs reminding what Cane is all about. Not many have been here. Only one other than her. I never have anyone in this house who isn’t useful to me, friends and family excluded. This place is personal to me. It’s somewhere I bring only the closest to me, or an enemy I can’t put anywhere else for fear of someone helping them escape.
Sobs are the first thing I hear as I approach her door. Sobs and then that fucking tune again. I stop and listen to it coming back at me, the melancholy causing a shiver to ride through me. It has some significance to me, something that bites into a part of me that my mother manages to pull out. It’s annoying, riling me into thoughts of weakness and fault.
It’s not something I intend to deal with, and the hard shove of the door, signalling my pissed intent, only proves my point. She gasps as I step in, her eyes immediately flying from mine to the ground beneath her.
“You’ve made a mess, Emily,” I say, wandering closer.
She shivers and shudders, her body trying to coil away from me. Tough. There’s no getting away from me. Not until I’m ready to release the debt I’m owed. The money’s gone, spent. I might as well get some more merit for its worth. I’ll fuck around with her for a while, watch as she breaks apart on me and get my satisfaction that way.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, the words drowned by a choke.
“What for?”
“The mess.” It’s so pitiful from her lips, like the sobs I know so well from those other women who took their families’ debts and paid them off. “I’ll… I’ll clean it up if you let me.” I arch a brow at the state of her, watching as she twists about again. “Please, untie me.” She looks back at me from under her lashes. “Please, Quinn. I want to go home. I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t have the money Jenny owes.”
“Yes, you do. I want my money’s worth, Emily.”
“I haven’t got that much,” she says, wide eyed. “I told you that already.”
I flick my dice in the air, weighing up my options as I sweep the outskirts of the room and watch her body shake. It’s a beautiful representation of innocence in my home, something that makes me aroused. Nothing is innocent here. Nothing has been for so long. And this one really is.
She’s pure.
Untouched by my world and its insidious charms. It’s a shame I barely give a fuck. Maybe if I did I might imagine something more civilized than I am doing.
“What will you do to pay me off?” I ask, circling toward her and throwing my dice. She shakes her head, another sniff of tears coming. “No answer to give?” There’s nothing quick enough for my liking. I snatch the back of the chair to get us away from the mess she’s made, yanking it across the floor to back her up into a corner. “How do you like the show?” I peer into her wide eyes, watching as the colours brighten through the glistening. “The fucking around you? Has it turned my dirty girl on?” Her head shoots down and away from me, lips mumbling something I can’t hear. So I grab her chin and force her to look up to the screens again. “Tell me you liked watching them touch her.”
Nothing comes back at me as she shakes in my hold, eyes staring at the screen and watching three men fuck into Cane property. She’s so fucking pretty like this—wide eyed, her body quivering and quaking for me. Some part of me might even admire her innocence as she tries not to look, which makes me back off and throw my dice again.
“Pick a number.” Her eyes come back to me, but only briefly before they fall back to the floor. I spin the dice again, throwing and releasing them into the air to give her the idea, before catching them again. “You’ve got from two to twelve. Choose.”
“I don’t understand what this is, Quinn. Who is that, and why are they ra…” She stumbles around words, unused to getting real grit through her teeth. “Touching her?”
“Raping. Is that the word you want? They’re claiming a debt, dirty girl. It’s a business transaction in my world. Nothing more.” Her eyes widen further, full comprehension of my world sinking in. “Choose a fucking number. Hope it matches the one on the dice when they land.”
The dice fly from me, the cubes twisting in the air, my eyes still trained on the panic in her eyes as she watches them go.
“Ten,” she splutters out. I follow her eyes as she glances down at them by her feet. Ten’s a good number, but even without looking at the cubes I can tell it’s not the number on my dice.
“Shame. Let’s see how dirty we can get you.”
She baulks away from me as I lean in, her whole body trying to get away from what’s coming. I don’t even know yet, but I can’t stop the need to get inside her again, filthy or not. I want that pussy wrapped around me. I want that dirty little mouth screaming my name as if it’s the last one she’ll ever say.
The chair scrapes as I turn it and claw at the binds around her to get her ass available to me, but the stench of vomit wafts over my nostrils. It stops me, suddenly disgusted with its foul aroma.
“Please, Quinn,” she whimpers, her whole body trying to fold into itself. “I don’t... I don’t want this.” The fuck she doesn’t. She’s my dirty little girl. She’ll fuck on top of that vomit if I make her do it, her knees sinking into the vile liquid. “Quinn, please. Let me clean up first.”
Clean.
I back away, frowning and scooping my dice from the floor then look at the two fives facing me. I chuckle slightly, wondering how fate made them change to her number as I grabbed them. Clean. Perhaps she does deserve a chance at clean.
“Looks like fate’s given you a chance.” Something about the thought makes me feel warmer, calmer even. Still, it doesn’t stop me wanting to taste her pretty lips, see if the stench still radiates on the innocent like it does every other whore. She looks over her shoulder at me, meek eyes filled with half released tears, and smiles quietly. It’s enough to draw me back to her and I grab her chin, reminding her that nothing is going to be negotiated beyond my control. “Half a damn chance, anyway.”
That’s all it is. Half a fucking chance at decency because of her purity in this immoral world I’ve brought her into. Maybe when she’s clean, and after she’s proven her dirty little mouth can pay some more of that debt off, I’ll let her out of here. Allow fate’s intervention to tell me what the fuck I’m doing with her, or why I brought her here at all.
Chapter Ten
I turn my face away from Quinn, but it doesn’t stop him. He squeezes my jaw and forces me to look at him. My gaze locks with his. I’m nervous around this man. I’m frightened, caught between panic and dread. But my body warms to his harsh handling, even after closing me in a dark room for god knows how long.
He searches my eyes as if he’s looking for something. I try to keep a poker face, but I’m useless at shielding my emotions or feelings. I’m an open book, and I’m confident that a man like Quinn can read me, even in the dark.
He crowds me and takes a harsh kiss. It’s rough and punishing, and I do everything in my power not to respond to him.
“You taste disgusti
ng. You're not worth one hundred grand like this,” he sneers.
At this point, I’d agree. I’ve been in this room, sitting in my own pee for hours, the dry taste of sick still lingering in my mouth.
He stands behind me, and his fingers work at the ties that keep me in place. I plant my feet firmly on the ground so that I can run as soon as I’m able. His hands rest on my shoulders as he moves from one side to the other. My heart hammers in my chest, waking my body up as I see my chance.
The room is only lit by the screens, but it’s enough for me to make out the shape of a door across the way from me. Quinn’s hands move down, and I feel the slackening of the tie. I push my weight onto my legs and press off hard from the ground, ready to run. A sharp pain flares across my scalp instantly, stopping me in my tracks.
“You move when I say you move.” My hands reach up to my head, trying to relieve the pressure, but he’s grabbed a handful of my hair roughly. “Don’t make me regret my decision, Emily. Or I’ll choose some other way to get my money’s worth.”
He drags me backwards, and I stumble on my shaky legs. He manoeuvres me through the room to another door which he opens and pushes me into. Bright lights blind me momentarily, as I blink to adjust to the harshness. We’re in a small shower room.
Quinn still has hold of me by my hair, and his other hand starts to yank at the zip of my dress. He tugs it down and pushes it from my shoulders. I want to fight with him, keep a semblance of my modesty. But I don’t.
“Peel your own underwear off.”
With shaking hands, I slip the wet knickers off and add them to my dress.
“Clean yourself up.” His command is harsh, but it’s an act that I’m desperate for. I feel dirty and vile. Perhaps some hot water and soap will make the prospects of surviving this situation better.
He lets my hair go, and I chance a glimpse at him over my shoulder. He’s leaning back against the door, blocking my escape, and watching me like a hawk. My feet edge closer to the shower, and I reach in to turn the water on. My arms cross over my boobs in a vain attempt to conceal some of myself from him. I know that after last night my body won’t come as a surprise to him, but this Quinn, this kidnapping monster, is a new person to me. I’ve not been intimate with him, and I want to keep myself as far from him as possible.
Innocent Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 1) Page 8
