Amnesia, a Psychological Thriller (Centrifuge Duet Book 1)

by Kylie Hillman

  I make it to the front door without detection, twisting the handle of the door with urgency. My shaking hands make a mess of it, impeding my escape.

  “What the hell?” a deep voice exclaims, and someone rushes toward me.

  Turning the handle with increasing desperation, I squeal with delight when the door finally flies open. My first step toward freedom is aborted when I’m grabbed around the waist and slung over a large shoulder. My breath leaves me in a rush from the impact.

  A large hand swats my ass with a stinging slap, causing me to gasp in shock and pain. The sudden intake of breath forces the cologne from the bedroom to flood my senses. My sedative affected mind finally remembers why the smell made me feel nauseous. Terror rising within me, I struggle in earnest, kicking my legs and punching my captor in the back with all of my strength.

  “Now, now, Lainey. Calm down, darling girl. You don’t want to end up hurting yourself, do you?” His deep, velvety smooth voice mocks me.

  Realisation dawning, it sinks in that my abduction has nothing to do with the MC, and everything to do with me and the stupid choice I made when I was eighteen.

  No. This can't be happening.

  My body shakes uncontrollably. Feeling light-headed, I’m afraid I’m going to faint. My mind races without aim, refusing to accept the truth in front of me.

  Brendan’s my worst nightmare. I’ve spent the last four years putting myself back together after escaping this man, and just as I start feeling safe in the life Mik and I’ve been building, he turns up to wreck it all.

  “Put me down, Brendan. Please,” I plead in a shaky voice, scrambling to find some much-needed composure. “You’re not supposed to be anywhere near me, you know that. If you let me walk out of here now, I won’t tell the police and your parole will be safe.”

  He chuckles at my request, his amusement apparent, and slowly lowers me down his body, thrusting his hard bulge against me when our pelvic areas meet. My feet have barely reached the ground before I’m backing away from him.

  It’s fruitless. He won’t let me go. Grasping the tops of my arms, he pulls me onto his lap as he sits down on the brown leather settee. All fight leaves my body at his touch, my anxious shaking increasing.

  Hearing the door locks engage and buttons being pressed on a keypad, I realise that my pleas to leave are going to fall on deaf ears. I’m stuck for now—not only because of the locked door and security system—but because this man scares me to death. I know if I mess up my escape again, he’ll make me pay in a painful and humiliating way.

  “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to your reunion,” Stu says, chuckling as he walks past us and out of sight. I stare, almost with longing after him, willing him to come back and take me with him.

  He’s the lesser of the two evils facing me.

  Brendan gently grasps my chin, tilting my head until I’m forced to look at him. He looks exactly the same. His eyes are a warm chocolate brown, his skin lightly tanned, and his lips rosy pink and kissable. The dark chocolate brown hair that sets off his traditionally handsome features is still full, luscious, and wavy. Jail hasn’t taken any discernible toll on his looks, which annoys me, because I’m certain that Mik arranged for some of the MC’s boys on the inside to visit him a few times. The evil soul that lurks behind his angelically handsome face is still safely hidden from the world.

  “Lainey, what’s today’s date?” he asks, purring the words at me with sadistic pleasure.

  The voice that was once one of the most pleasant sounds in the world to me now sends slivers of icy fear down my spine. In a rush I realise the date, and tears of anger and frustration leak from my eyes. I’m angry at myself for dropping my guard. I understand now why Mik didn’t want me to go to work today.

  Today is Brendan’s first day off of parole for raping and almost beating me to death just over four years ago. He was sentenced to two years in jail for my assault, with a non-parole period of eighteen months. He’s been out of jail for six months and had left me alone until now, so I’d become complacent in watching my back even if Mik hadn’t. It’s apparent now that Brendan was waiting to be free and clear of the law before he forced our reunion.

  “Shhhh, sweetheart. I'm not here to hurt you,” he soothes, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

  I jerk away from him, his touch making me feel dirty, but he curls his fingers around the tops of my arms and pulls me to his chest. Anger coils within me as I take stock of the fact that the only reason he’s sitting here tormenting me now is because I only had him charged with assaulting me on one occasion. I never told the authorities—or my family—about his repeated beatings and rapes, or his blackmail. They believe we had a one-off physical fight and that he threatened my family because I was leaving him.

  That was bad enough.

  There are only three other people who know the full truth of what he did to me, and that’s how I want to keep it. Mik was always adamant that I should’ve made him pay for everything, but I couldn't face the embarrassment and pity that telling the truth would bring. I also couldn't throw Benji under the bus. My reasons seem petty at this moment as I sit unwilling and scared on his lap, wishing that I’d told everyone every horrible detail.

  “It’s so good to be able to touch you again, Lainey,” Brendan whispers against my cheek. “I’ve missed touching you more than you could believe. Watching you since I left that hellhole has been torture, especially knowing I had to wait until today to claim you as mine again.”

  I gasp at his statement, pulling as far away from him as he’ll let me.

  “How have you been watching me? Mik has precautions set up. You haven’t been anywhere near the city or we would’ve known.” The second Mik’s name falls from my lips, I know I’ve made a big mistake. He has a long history of irrational jealousy toward my fiancé.

  Brendan’s face changes from loving to irate in a split second. Letting go of my arms, he stands with calculated abruptness. I topple backward off his lap and onto the carpeted floor. Slapping me across the face twice, splitting my damaged lip further, he unleashes his anger. My face feels like a pulsing, bruised mess.

  As I cower, waiting for another slap, he pulls me to my feet by the front of my shirt. I'm barely upright when he grabs my hand and tugs me behind him, through the modern kitchen and into a formal living area. I want to pull my hand from his, but it’s the only thing keeping me upright as he strides in front of me.

  There’s a huge telescope pointing toward large bay windows. A room like this should be filled with expensive chaises, televisions, and coffee tables, instead it has three desks, numerous filing cabinets, and a large open gun safe lining the perimeter. The walls have paperwork and photos pinned all over them. A quick glance tells me that I’m the subject of most of the photos.

  Brendan shoves me into the chair behind the telescope.

  “Have a look,” he grunts. “I have been watching you, making sure that dirty biker doesn’t touch you. I was always coming back for you. You’re mine. You always will be, as much as you try to fight it.”

  Brendan grabs me by the back of my neck and forces my face toward the eyepiece.

  Resistance is futile. I learned this years ago, so I let him position my head where he wants it.

  “Given your slutty tendencies, I’m not surprised you ran to him the second I was gone. You will be making up for that and every other damn thing you’ve done to me very soon,” he tells me, certainty colouring his tone.

  Attempting to tune out his threats, I peer into the telescope, praying that I'm not about to see what I fear he wants to show me. No such luck since sure enough, just as I feared, the house I share with Mik stares back at me.

  There’s a large nature reserve between this house and mine containing a playground, bike track, and public amenities. I can see my car in the driveway with Mik’s Harley parked next to it. Mik is pacing on the front deck, running his hand through his hair in jerky, agitated movements. His phone to his ear, I can make out his
mouth moving as he speaks.

  Dragging my eyes from my stressed fiancé, I take in the whole view. I can see straight through the open curtains into my living room. Brendan has been able to see into my home for God knows how long.

  The one place I’ve felt safe for the last four years hasn’t been the sanctuary I thought it was. As usual, Brendan’s managed to make my feelings of safety and freedom nothing but a pretty illusion. I didn’t think my heart could sink any further than it already had in this situation, but this revelation completely knocks the wind out of my sails.

  Brendan laughs at my appalled expression, his eyes filling with enjoyment when he sees the situation become clear to me. Even though I know rationally that it's the wrong move, I can't stop myself from losing my temper. Rising to my feet, I swing on my heel to face him.

  “What is wrong with you?” I question, pushing him as hard as I can in the chest with both hands. He staggers backward a couple of steps in surprise at my attack. “Why won't you just leave me alone? You need to go away. You’re completely crazy. I’m not yours, and I never will be. I hate you!”

  I swing at him, hitting him in the chest and the stomach as I unleash my fears and frustrations. Pulling my right arm back, I punch him as hard as I can in the mouth. Blood bursts from the corner upon impact. I shake my fist out, and swing again.

  Five years of fear, anger, and hurt are finally finding the correct outlet.

  I’m out of control, and ready to kill him with my bare hands.

  I want to hit him, choke him, and humiliate him.

  I want him to feel everything he made me feel.

  Brendan ducks my follow-up punch and grasps me by the throat, subduing me with little effort. He forces me backward on my tiptoes until my back hits the wall. Then he lifts me until my feet are no longer touching the ground. A sick sense of déjà vu engulfs me as my consciousness recognises the position I’m in.

  I scratch at the hand he has around my neck with both of mine, two of my fingernails snapping as I try to pull free. Kicking at him with my legs, I attempt to head butt him. I’m fighting for breath, black spots floating through my vision, but I don’t give up. Even lost in my anger, the only thought in my head is that I’m not going to let him hurt me without a fight this time.

  He licks the blood from his split lip, before leaning down, and whispering in my ear, “I’ll let you hit me once without punishment, Lainey, because I know I hurt you in the past. Just this once, though. Every time you step out of line from now on, I’m going to punish you. Or one of your family.”

  He licks the shell of my ear before he continues with calm menace. “Is Lachie still catching the bus to practice by himself?”

  Shocked, my body falls still at his mention of my youngest brother. Brendan must be watching all of my family—not just me—to know that my fifteen-year-old brother is living in Brisbane now and catches the bus to football practice. My entire beautiful, crazy family moved down here after he hurt me for the final time.

  I refused to move home, not only due to the terrifying memories they knew nothing about, but because I was determined Brendan wasn’t going to derail my plans for my future entirely.

  My mind quickly dismisses his words, and I calm myself. He doesn’t realise that one of the Club’s Enforcers escorts Lachie everywhere for this exact reason. Everyone was worried Brendan would try to use my family against me when he was freed from jail, so Mik has used the MC to put multiple layers of safety precautions in place. Lachie doesn’t know he’s being protected because of me. He’s just been told “Club business”, which is our dad’s go-to excuse when he doesn’t want to explain something.

  Brendan squeezes his hand tighter around my neck and continues to torment me with his words.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying, Lainey? You're mine, and you're going to stay with me this time. The people you love are going to get hurt, one by one, every time you try to leave me.” He leans down and stares at me with feral, glazed eyes. “Now nod if you get what I’m telling you. I’ll let you go when you show that you understand me.”

  I stay still, fixing unblinking eyes on his, ignoring his demand. The strong, defiant, and wilful parts of my personality that Mik’s spent the last four years helping me put back together won’t let me bow down to this monster again. He can threaten my brothers as much as he wants because I know that they’re safe this time.

  There’s nothing he can do. Mik’s going to put this madman in the ground for daring to touch me again. I can feel it in my soul that my wild and unyielding fiancé is going to rescue me.

  I continue staring at Brendan. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of making me nod.

  He regards me in return, a smile curling his lips.

  “This is what I love about you, Lainey. You challenge me like no one else.”

  Nuzzling my ear, his free hand closes around my breast. Vomit rises in my throat.

  He knows exactly how to get to me.

  Letting go of my breast, he rips the last of the buttons off of my shirt with his free hand. It falls open, exposing my bra. Touching me again, Brendan tweaks my nipple until it goes hard, then he pinches it until I whimper.

  “Nod if you understand me, darling,” His voice is tender, loving. A contradiction to his nasty touch.

  I shake my head, not only at his request but also to clear the pain. Killing me isn’t going to give him what he wants. I know that I just need to wait him out. I can take any pain he throws at me. I proved that last time.

  Licking the inside of my ear, he sinks his teeth into my lobe with enough force to cause maximum pain without breaking the skin. I can't help myself as I scream as much as my closed-up throat will allow me.

  “Nod if you understand,” he repeats after removing his teeth from my earlobe.

  As the pain recedes, I regain my will to fight. I pull against the hand around my throat, stomping on his foot with as much force as I can manage. He barely acknowledges my attack, except to slam me back against the wall when I try to knee him in the groin. My bare foot has little effect against his boot.

  Slamming me against the wall twice more, not with his full strength but enough to hurt, I rethink my bravado. His body is shaking with rage. I’m making him really mad.

  Maybe I should nod, just to get him to let me go?

  Black spots dance across my eyesight when he squeezes my throat once again, slamming me against the wall for the fourth time. My head bounces off the wall. Brendan pushes up my skirt, wedging his thigh between mine. I squirm, trying to keep my legs shut, but he’s incessant, and manages to get his thigh not only between my legs but against my panties. I hoarsely scream at him to stop, head-butting him as hard as I can when he doesn’t.

  All I achieve is hurting my own head because he doesn’t stop.

  Not even for a second.

  When I head-butt him again, he slaps me across the face. As I fall still from the impact, his hand slides to the apex of my thighs. Using the considerable weight of his body to pin me against the wall, he finally releases my throat. I draw much-needed gasps of air, hoping this is over.

  Instead of letting me go as I'd expected, he rips my panties off of my body with one harsh tug, and throws them on the floor behind him. My constant struggling achieves nothing as Brendan pins me with apparent ease against the wall. He strokes between my legs with surprising softness, rubbing his hand back and forth, from my clit to my ass. Continuing his circuit as my entire body shudders in disgust, my mind trying to shut down to block out his vile touch. He grins at my reaction.

  I thought I could defy him, but I can’t go through this particular form of torture again.

  I mentally admit defeat, my head sagging against him. I mouth against his shoulder that I get him, furiously nodding my head as tears stream down my face. He leans away from me and smiles down at me, gloating. He knows he’s broken me and won this round.

  “Too little, too late, my darling,” he admonishes, using two fingers to penetrate me wit
h clinical precision. I scream in pain, fighting to get away as he pumps his fingers into me again.

  “Boss, we have a problem.”

  Over Brendan’s shoulder, I witness a flustered Stu run into the room.

  “The GPS on her mobile is active. It’s just been accessed. They know our location.”

  “Bloody hell. How did you overlook that?” Brendan barks at him. “I paid good money for you to prevent this sort of fuckup.”

  Removing his fingers from my trembling body, he lets me go. I slide to the floor. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I yank my skirt back into place and crawl away from him. He quirks an elegant eyebrow at me, smiling before he sucks on the fingers he forced into my body.

  “You still taste like honey.” I flinch at his statement and he laughs, knowing exactly what memory his words evoke. Turning his attention to Stu, he demands with nastiness, “I asked you to check for any tracking, and you said it wasn’t enabled on her phone. Are you completely useless?”

  “They had it hidden well,” Stu defends himself. “I could only see that it’d been activated once they accessed it.”

  Worry and fear billow from Stu. The abrupt change in his demeanour is interesting. Is he afraid of the MC or Brendan?

  “Obviously, this is something he can access through his little motorcycle gang,” Brendan jeers at me. I note that he still doesn’t like to say Mik’s name. His pettiness would make me laugh if the situation wasn’t so serious. Brendan stalks over to the telescope and peers through it. “Goddamn it, he’s heading across the reserve right now. Your oversight has put a major kink in our plan.”

  Brendan punches the wall near the window in anger, leaving a crack in the plastering. Blood wells on his injured knuckles. He shakes his hand in pain. I hope he's broken something. It would serve him right.

  “Calm down, boss,” Stu tells Brendan. His eyes narrow and he stares intently into space. It's obvious—to me, at least—that he’s thinking on his feet. “He only knows where her phone is. If you can deal with her, I can get rid of him and the phone at the same time.”