by Roni Loren
“Well, shit.”
He lifted his phone to call Jim and see where he’d gone off to, but his phone was dead as hell. Fantastic.
He glanced at the station. He didn’t want to step foot back in that place, so he headed down the street toward the Starbucks on the corner. He needed coffee and could use their phone to call for a ride and to check in with Cora. Andre had promised he’d have someone keep watch over her, but Ren wasn’t going to feel better until he talked to her and heard her voice. She’d left the station with a mission. If she’d found something, she would’ve sent word or come to see him. She was probably at her place on her computer doing her detective work. She was probably fine.
But for some reason, his heart had started to pound harder, a bad feeling making his skin prickle. He pressed the power button on his phone again on the off chance he could get a burst of juice from it, maybe at least send a text, but the black screen mocked him. He shoved the useless thing in his back pocket and took a breath. It would only be a few minutes before he could call her. He needed to stop being paranoid.
He picked up the pace of his walk. But he wasn’t a block away from the police station when a man stepped out from between buildings and blocked Ren’s path.
Ren pulled up like a horse getting its reins yanked, an automatic reaction, but when his brain registered the face in front of him, everything went still inside him.
The man was older, more lines around his eyes, and his hair was deep brown instead of blond, but the pale blue eyes were as familiar as ever. Gordon’s mouth spread into a smile. “Hello, Renny.”
Just the sound of the old pet name was enough to snap Ren out of his frozen state. He’d had nightmares where that word was whispered into his ear. His fists balled, his body ready to fight off the threat before his brain even registered everything. But he couldn’t make words come out of his mouth.
“I see everything went smoothly at the jail,” Gordon said conversationally. “Idiot cops. They had no evidence to hold you. You didn’t give the girl the drink. I’m sure I did a better job than your overpriced lawyer would’ve.”
Ren swallowed, reality crashing over him. “You posted bail.”
“You’re welcome.” He cocked his head in that way he used to do when he wanted Ren to fetch something for him. “You can thank me by taking a drive with me. We have a lot to catch up on.”
The easy way he said it, the absolute confidence, made black, bitter hatred well up in Ren. This was the man who had used him, who had convinced him that he loved him, then loaned him out like he was a commodity to be rented. And now this left no doubt. This was the man who had put Hayes behind bars for what Ren could only figure was some twisted punishment of Ren. “So all this time it was you. You sick fuck.”
Gordon smirked and straightened his suit coat, ever the polished businessman. “Sick, huh? I believe that’s what you used to love best about me. Or have you forgotten?”
Ren fought to keep his cool. He wanted to punch the fucker to the ground, beat him until he was broken, put him through some of the shit Ren had endured from him. Ren was bigger than he was now, much more muscular than he’d been at sixteen. He could take him down. But he kept his fists at his sides. This was the man who had put Hayes in prison, but right now, he was also the only one who could get him out. The police station was a block back. A few words from Gordon could clear Hayes’s name. If he knocked Gordon out, that wouldn’t happen. “I haven’t forgotten anything.”
Gordon smiled like that pleased him. “Glad to know it was as memorable for you as it was for me. I hate that it turned out the way it did. A lot of misunderstandings, and your big friend got in the way of me apologizing to you for how things went down. I got a little carried away back then. Love does crazy things to people.”
Ren gritted his teeth. “That wasn’t love, Gordon. You don’t manipulate and force the people you love to do things against their will. You don’t fuck with their lives after they leave you.”
Gordon frowned. “You were too naive back then, didn’t understand what I was trying to do for you. I see that now. I threw you into the deep end before you were ready. That was my mistake. And when you left, it left you vulnerable to be manipulated by someone like Hayes Fox. You always needed someone to take care of you, and he knew how to take advantage.”
Now Ren really did have to breathe through the need to start swinging at him. “Keep his name out of your mouth. If you have a problem with me, fine. Here I am. But you’re going to go into that police station first and tell them you made a mistaken report. Clear Hayes.”
A black Buick pulled up to the curb next to them. Gordon glanced that way and then gave Ren a patient smile, like he was tolerating Ren’s outburst. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But we can chat more in the car.”
“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got nothing to say that we can’t say right here.”
Gordon tucked his hands in his pockets like they were just two men on the street discussing the weather. “All those years ago you didn’t just embarrass me and bring the police sniffing around, Ren. You hurt me. I had looked a long time for someone like you, someone who was so perfectly made for submission. You promised me you’d stay with me forever, you gave yourself to me, and then you walked. You walked to be someone’s sidekick, someone’s project. What the fuck is that? You’re more than that. I would’ve made you more than that.”
Ren stared at him, the layers of crazy just too much to take in. “I was a kid. And confused and lonely. You sold me a bill of goods that wasn’t true and then threatened me when I wanted to leave. That’s not love, asshole. It’s abuse.”
Gordon’s gaze slid to a spot behind Ren, probably people coming close enough to hear the conversation. “Get in the car.”
“You have zero chance of that happening.”
Gordon’s expression smoothed and his eyes went flinty. “You’ll do it because if you don’t, not only is your boyfriend going to rot in jail, your latest plaything is going to have a very bad day. I wonder how much Rohypnol is too much in a week.”
Ren’s stomach clenched. “What?”
“I was hoping you’d come willingly. Be a man about it. But I had a feeling you’d be difficult. I realize the girl is a passing whim. You never stay with women long. Probably because the dom act is such a laughable farce on you. But I doubt you’d want her hurt just because you don’t know how to take responsibility for your mistakes.”
Fear like Ren had never felt before filled him—bright, sharp stabs of it. Gordon had Cora.
Visions of Gordon’s hands on her, hurting her, holding her down, filled Ren’s head and he wanted to vomit. He’d seen what Gordon could do to people, had experienced it. The man used BDSM as a front but he was no dominant. He was just a cruel, controlling man hiding his sickness beneath the veneer of kink. Ren had found that out the hard way when Gordon had started pushing lines Ren wasn’t comfortable with. There were no safe words with him. And he didn’t care if consent was there or not. He would hurt Cora and not flinch, especially if he knew it was hurting Ren at the same time.
Ren swallowed past the tightness in his throat, searching for that calm place inside him, that piece that could shut out the emotions and deal with this. If Gordon had Cora, Ren would go with him. He would do whatever it took to get to her. “What do you want from me? What could you possibly want to go through all this trouble?”
Gordon reached out and opened the car door. “You. One more night. A proper good-bye.”
Bile rose in the back of Ren’s throat. A proper good-bye. Such a civil term for what he suspected Gordon really wanted. Ren’s utter and merciless humiliation. A final punishment for walking away. Proof to Gordon that he was still in charge, that Ren never had any power. He would try to break him.
Fuck him. Anger bright and blinding rose up in him. Gordon knew what Ren’s answer would be, knew h
e wasn’t going to let Cora suffer. The smile on his face said as much—I’ve already won, Renny. Don’t bother arguing. But let Gordon try to get into his head, let him try to play those games. The smug bastard looked so sure of himself, so positive that he could take his place over Ren again, pull his strings like a puppet and make him beg. But he didn’t know this Ren Muroya. He knew a shadow of the person he was now. Ren wasn’t that kid anymore. Let Gordon try. Ren would not be broken. He would fight.
But first, he had to get to Cora.
Ren gave one last look to the police station down the block and then he climbed into the car. He didn’t greet the driver. He didn’t react when Gordon slid in next to him.
And he never saw the needle in Gordon’s hand.
The world went black before Ren could say another word.
THIRTY
Cora hadn’t slept. She and Kevin had spent all night trying everything they knew how to do to break into Gordon’s phone. They’d lucked out that the phone was jailbroken, but Gordon had a third-party security app installed and Kevin’s malware wasn’t designed for that.
So Cora had been coding on the fly, tweaking Kevin’s program, and Kevin had been trying to find another way in. He’d managed to get into the system at one of Gordon’s clubs, but there’d been nothing of note in there besides payroll stuff, financial documents, and employee records. On the off chance she’d hit pay dirt, she’d had Kevin search for the name of the woman who’d accused Hayes all those years ago, hoping maybe she’d been a stripper employed by Gordon’s company, but nothing had come up.
Cora took a big gulp of coffee and stared at the program she’d written. Her eyes burned. All the letters and numbers were blending together. But she thought maybe she had something. “Let’s try to run this. I think I found a workaround that won’t trigger the security app.”
Kevin leaned over, looked at her screen, and scanned through what she’d done. “Oh, so you . . . Yeah. That’s— Damn, that’s good. That could work.”
“As long as he has his phone on and doesn’t delete the message, it should get us in.”
Kevin smirked. “You sure you’re not slipping a black hat on in your off-hours? You’ve got some evil genius in you.”
“Only to take revenge on ex-boyfriends,” she said mildly. “Good thing you weren’t my boyfriend.”
That earned her a snort.
“All right, let’s give this baby a go.”
Fifteen minutes later, the message went out as she’d designed it and, somewhere in the city, lit Gordon’s screen with a notification.
She and Kevin barely breathed, waiting for the wall to slam down, the blocks to slide in place. But no alarm bells were triggered. Instead, the open road rolled out before them.
Cora clicked, and there it was. Gordon’s phone.
Text messages. Emails. Photos. All at her fingertips.
Cora’s heartbeat picked up speed. “Gotcha, motherfucker.”
Working fast just in case they got interrupted or the message got deleted, she opened up his photos and started scanning through. She confirmed the shot sent to the police was from him. But there were a lot more shots from the bar, the lens firmly focused on her, Ren, and Hayes. Talking. Dancing. Singing.
All time-stamped and proving that she was there willingly with the guys before Hayes handed her any drink. She took screenshots of each one. Then moved to the next.
A shot of her in a passionate kiss on the dance floor, both guys caging her between them.
Kevin coughed behind her.
“Shut up, Kevin.”
“I didn’t say a word.” She could feel him smiling even without looking his way. “But I’m happy to know it took two dudes to replace one of me.”
She groaned. “A nut punch is still on the table, just so you know.”
“It’s always on the table with you. But keep scrolling. He could delete you at any time.”
“Right.” She jumped back a few days in the photo stream, not sure what she was looking for but going on instinct. The pictures filled the screen, and a creeping cold moved through her. It was shot after shot of Ren. Getting out of his car at work. Walking into a restaurant for lunch. And farther back, him walking next to Cora outside of the Mexican restaurant. “Jesus.”
“Whoa,” Kevin said as she continued to click through pictures. “Stalk much?”
She scrolled back even farther. Hayes walking out of prison, Ren waiting for him. The two men embracing. Their house. Hayes’s SUV. Then screenshots from Hayven of Master Dmitry and Lenore. Records of their private chat conversations. She quickly closed those, not wanting Kevin to see the content.
She rubbed the goose bumps from her arms. “He’s been watching the whole damn time.”
“This is freaky, Cora. You need to bring in the police. This guy is obviously unhinged.”
“I know.” She took a few more screenshots and then scrolled back to the ones at the bar to make sure she didn’t miss any. But after she clicked through the last one, the scene jumped to something new. A place she recognized because she’d just been there yesterday. The police station. And Ren was walking out.
“What the hell?”
He gaze scanned to the photo’s information. Time stamp: a little over three hours ago.
Her heart jumped into her throat. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“I need to call Ren.” She looked around the cluttered desk, trying to find her phone, her movements frantic. When she found it under a pile of papers, she hit Ren’s number, her fingers shaking. It went straight to voice mail, no ring. “Fuck.”
She shoved her chair back and stood. “Kev, I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you keep looking through this to see what you find? And forward me all those screenshots. I need to show them to the police.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Kevin’s brow furrowed, genuine concern on his face. “But, Cor, you really need to turn all this over to the cops. I mean, people don’t stalk someone to never make a move. This guy’s got something planned. You could get hurt.”
Dread curled around her, making her feel light-headed. She didn’t want to think too far ahead or overreact, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all coming to a head. That something had happened. Another thought struck her. “Wait, can you get me a location? Open up his Maps.”
Kevin rolled his chair to the spot where hers had been and clicked through to a few screens until he got the Maps app to pinpoint the phone’s current location. The address didn’t mean anything to her, but she took a picture of it with her phone.
Kevin spun around and grabbed her hand. “Hey, I’m serious. Be careful.”
The worry in his voice touched her. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I will. And thank you for this. Nut punches are officially off the table, all right?”
He smirked, though the sarcasm didn’t reach the rest of his face. “Good to know. I’ll send you what I find. And call me and let me know you’re okay.”
“Deal.”
Her phone was already to her ear when she jogged down the stairs and out to her car. Her mother answered on the second ring.
“Coraline, where the hell are you?”
“Mom, I need you at the station now.”
“What? Why?”
“We’ve got a bad guy to catch.”
THIRTY-ONE
Ren’s knees ached and the rope around his wrists and ankles had rubbed his skin raw. There wasn’t a place on his body that didn’t hurt. When he’d woken up from whatever drug Gordon had given him, he’d found himself in a garage of some sort—bound, naked, and lying at Gordon’s feet. Gordon had smiled down at him, welcomed him back to the world of the conscious, and then had kicked him hard in the ribs and told him to get to his knees.
That’d been the easiest part. The pain. The beating. The cuts Gordon had carved into
his skin with his pocketknife.
He could handle that. He’d learned to take that a long time ago. Pain was just pain.
But when Gordon had tried to touch him, had put his hand around Ren’s cock, his palm slick with Ren’s blood, and told him all the things he was going to do to him, Ren hadn’t been able to shut it out and take it. He’d snapped and fought back. Had spit in Gordon’s face and thrashed around and had told him what a pathetic excuse for a man he was. How disgusting he was, how shitty the sex had been with him.
Gordon had backed off at that and Ren had thought maybe he’d won. He might die but at least he’d gotten the last word.
But then Gordon had said that since Ren was being less than accommodating, he would entertain himself with Cora until Ren had a change of heart. Ren had instantly protested, but it’d been too late. Gordon had seen how the threat had affected him. That fear was more of a turn-on to him than anything else.
He’d blindfolded and gagged Ren, left him on the floor to bleed, and then went into the room next door, leaving doors open. Ren had heard every moment of the beating and rape, every muffled scream from her, every groan from him. Ren had nearly broken his hands trying to get himself free and his voice had given out from the shouting he’d done from behind the gag. He could feel the blood running down his wrists and his fingers had gone numb, but there was nothing he could do except listen to the anguished sounds and die on the inside.
She was suffering because of him. This was happening because he’d always been too impulsive, too reckless. Too cocky. He’d gotten in that car like he was going to be some kind of superhero. And when it’d come down to it, he hadn’t been able to bear what Gordon dished out. If he’d been able to take it, Cora wouldn’t be going through this. He’d never forgive himself. And the second he was free, he would kill Gordon with his bare hands. Rip him apart and watch him die.
