The Strand Brothers Series: Complete Set

by Lora Ann

  “Yes,” I whispered, “All yours.”

  As he drove in fully, I came apart. “Oh…Even,” I squeaked out as pleasure shook my body.

  He climaxed right after me. Our breathing was ragged as he said, “God, I love you, Lacey.”

  I froze. There was no mistaking him this time. My heart screamed, tell him you love him too. But my head insisted, you can’t do that. Leave. Now. Without a word I stepped out of his embrace, releasing him from my core. I felt bereft. Yet I knew I couldn’t keep doing this to either one of us. “Lacey?” He tried to stop me from leaving the shower, but thanks to the water I slid from his grasp easily. I grabbed some jeans and a sweater from my bag as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Where are you going?”

  “Out,” I snapped.

  “What the fuck, Lacey?”

  Tears betrayed me as he attempted again to stop me. I jerked away. “Please,” I begged. “I need to go.”

  I stomped on my boots as I strode purposely to the door. I looked over my shoulder and the expression I saw on his face would stay forever etched in my memory. His eyes were haunted. And I was the one to do that to him. As I stepped into the hallway, I heard him bellow, “Lacey, please. Don’t leave me.”

  I stuck my knuckle in my mouth to stop my sobs from being overheard. Quickly, I ran towards the elevator. The doors were closing as I saw him standing in the hallway. I heard his “NO!” when they came together and the car began to descend. Way to go, Lace, I chastised myself mentally. I had successfully broken his heart. What he didn’t realize, was that I had broken mine as well. What kind of monster destroyed their soul mate? Me…that’s who.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Keeley

  With concentrated effort, I forced my eyes to open. Shit. That asshole had put me back in the infirmary. Due to the fog my brain was in from the pain and medication, I couldn’t quite recall exactly what he’d done this time. I began to test my body and move a little at a time. Damn it hurt. However, if I could avoid more drugs being pumped into my body, then I would suffer through it. I decided to walk around, so I pushed myself up slowly to the edge of the bed. Nausea reared up and almost won. I fought it back as I rose to my feet. The room began to spin and I had to throw out my hand to catch my balance. A tray with a pitcher of water and a glass loudly tumbled to the floor. I paused, holding my breath, and waited for Viv, Joe, or him to enter. To my astonishment, no one rushed in. “Thank you,” I whispered silently to the man upstairs. When I began to take a step, something crinkled below my foot. With herculean effort I managed to squat down—bending was out of the question—and pick up a piece of paper. I read the note written in elegant script.

  ________________________________________

  Keeley,

  I’ve been called out to help Joe. Your pain meds are in the plastic cup next to the pitcher of water. Please rest. You’ve just had surgery. Mr. R’s due to return in a couple of days, so you have time to recuperate. We’ll be back as soon as possible.

  -V

  ________________________________________

  Well, that explained why my insides felt like they’d gone through the spin cycle on high. Geez, how many surgeries had I had since being brought here? Although I would admit, it was convenient that they had all left for one reason or another. Maybe if I could get my body to cooperate, I would be able to find a way out of this hellhole. Yet as I focused once more on moving my legs, the same question that had plagued me for quite some time came back with a vengeance: Who would supply me with the pain I so desperately craved if I left Mr. R? Not surgery pain, obviously, because that hurt like a motherfucker. But the other kind that came from his various implements. I grumbled, “If you stay here, idiot, he’ll kill you.” I shuffled over to the door and pried it open. Even if the note said I was here alone, I wasn’t taking any chances. My eyes surveyed the hallway, left and right, before I took another step. I was making progress when a high-pitched whimper caught my attention. Who the hell had he taken now? That was when my resolve set: I would escape here not for just me, but for all the other women he planned to harm. Because I couldn’t stomach one more girl being beat to death on account of me. I might not be a good person, but I wouldn’t let another take the punishment he wanted to do to my body. Although I hated the fact that I craved his demented torture as much as he craved doing it. See…I’m a monster with no redemption in sight. Difference was, I wanted what he offered. They did not.

  Fortunately the cries were coming from the room next to mine, so I was able to make the trek without completely wearing myself out. Still, I was out of breath as I made my way inside. Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger” started playing in my mind. Crap, that song was appropriate in more ways than one. Ha! Gotta love it. My musings came to abrupt halt when I focused on the person lying on the bed. God, he had a little girl in here! As I approached the child, I recognized similar features between us. Funny, I’d never really thought about it until now, but all of the others shared the same look as me. Though this was the first time he’d brought a teenager into his lair of doom. I hobbled over beside her and softly moved her hair out of her eyes. She didn’t look right. On closer inspection, I could see where he had beaten her. Bastard! Why would he harm a child? There were also strange markings on her body that didn’t congeal with a traditional beating. What the fuck? They were oddly swollen. What I hadn’t realized, until I touched her actual skin, was that the girl had a raging fever. Ah hell, the kid needed help. I grabbed a washcloth and submerged it in a pitcher of ice water. After I wrung it out, I placed it over her forehead and tried talking to her. “Hi. What’s your name, honey?”

  Her eyes fluttered open as she studied my face. Forcing myself not to grimace from my own discomfort, I added, “My name is Keeley.” I attempted to smile.

  It must have worked because she returned a slight one as she murmured, “Ari.”

  She blinked a few times, and it was then that I noticed her heart was working overtime. The pulse point on her neck was hammering away. Her hand came up as she gingerly placed her fingers on my face. “Yeah, we look a little bit alike,” I declared.

  Her eyes then drifted over to the bedside table where a photograph set. I picked it up and gasped, “Oh my, God!” The girl in the picture appeared to be the same age as the one before me. Yet I knew it wasn’t her because of the outdated clothing and hairstyle. I swear they could be identical twins. If I were honest, I would easily pass for their sister. I held her hot hand against my face tightly as I asked, “Who is she?”

  With her other hand, she motioned for me to flip it over. There lay my answer: Rachel Burns October, 1995. Clarity struck like a super nova, we all looked like this Rachel. He was utterly obsessed with whoever she was. Holy hell, what kind of sick, twisted mind did Mr. R have. When Ari passed out, I knew I was on borrowed time. Sure, it’d be easier to get out of there and find her help. Problem with that was, what if he returned before I could bring in the troops? No, I had no other choice but to take her with me. I rewet the cloth and placed it on the back of her neck, and then went in search of a wheelchair.

  Somehow I had wound my way down to the “playroom”—as Mr. R liked to call it. Personally, I thought it should be called “the room of doom.” So few had left it alive, which made me aware of just how damn lucky I was. As I scuffled passed it, I heard screaming. Oh shit, what now?

  I only thought I’d been unprepared for the sight of Ari lying in that bed with a raging fever. This one trumped that, and then some. Hanging limply in the shackles, by the blood covered back wall, was a curvaceous woman. At least I assumed the person there was a female. I’d never seen a guy with a figure like that, not even on a gorgeous drag queen. The stone walls reverberated with another scream, and that was when it became apparent it wasn’t the woman in chains. By the odd way her body hung there, I would bet she was unconscious. Fucking A, how was I to rescue two of them as well as myself before someone came back? When a deep moan of agony resounded, I searched for the source.
Dammit, I wouldn’t be able to help another one if he had someone else in here with her. Wait! If that were the case, then Joe or Viv or even Mr. R had returned. I shrank back against the wall. My heart pounded in my chest with fear. Sweat began to bead on my forehead and upper lip. I prayed fervently, “Please…don’t let any of them be in the vicinity. Especially not Mr. R.”

  As I frantically scanned the room, my eyes alighted on a computer monitor mounted on the ceiling right where the woman hung in her restraints. I stumbled a little attempting to make my way towards her. Sure enough, once I arrived, I could see what she must’ve seen. It was a torture session with one of the many women that’d been brought in there. I didn’t recognize the girl on the screen, but it didn’t change the fact that I had to fight back the bile that rose. Mr. R was a demented motherfucker. The maniacal laugher as he destroyed his victim was beyond anything I had ever watched him do. He purposely and boldly mangled that particular woman. Then the screen flashed, and yet another one was there being tortured. I covered my mouth on a gasp. My God, he was inflicting a fear like no other in the woman beside me. Making her watch and listen to what he planned to do to her. Because there was no doubt in my mind he’d do all of that again to her, plus more. Obviously he loathed this poor woman. I had to wonder why? Yes, I had seen him beat others. And, no, they had not survived. Nothing like this, though. With the ones I had witnessed, those women had died accidently. The ones flipping back and forth on the screen had been orchestrated, right down to the final blow that would end their lives. Of course, he wore a mask and kept to the sides of the camera. Nevertheless, I knew his body and the way he moved. There wasn’t hesitation or doubt in my mind that Mr. R was the man on the screen.

  A slight groan pulled my attention to the woman in shackles. He had used the mean, nasty metal ones, and I could see the raw bruises on her wrists and ankles from where they’d been locked down tightly. Poor thing had to be in excruciating pain. Her eyes lifted enough to mine as she tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. Her dry, cracked lips told me she was beyond parched. I went to the sink I knew was in the opposite corner. I wish I could move faster, but shuffling was the best I could manage. Once I reached her side again, I offered her water. She gulped greedily, which again showed just how much Mr. R hated her. Another scream came from the screen and she winced. At least that I could help her with. I turned the damn thing off and then pivoted towards her. “Did you see where they put the key?”

  “In his pocket.”

  “Who?”

  “Joe,” she whispered gravelly.

  Whoever she was, she knew who held her captive. I racked my brain trying to figure out how I would release her without a key. After a pregnant pause, the light went off—so to speak. While I hobbled towards the work bench full of torture tools, I inquired, “What’s your name?”

  “Aimee Strand. And yours?”

  “Keeley Kincaid,” I replied as I found just the thing that might release her.

  Her gasp caught me off guard as I turned towards her. My brow arched. “What is it?”

  She swallowed before she answered, “You’re Lacey’s sister.” Not a question, she knew my sister.

  I lumbered back to her side and worked on picking the locks. My heart beat so loud I could barely hear myself speak. “How do you know Lacey?”

  Just then, we both heard the elevator moving. Shit! Someone was back. Without any further conversation, I worked diligently to release her. We heard Viviane holler out, “Keeley! Where the hell are you?”

  I glanced into Aimee’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’ll come back ASAP.”

  Tears gushed down her cheeks as she pleaded, “Don’t leave me here. He’ll kill me.”

  I nodded, for I knew she was right about Mr. R. “It does seem he abhors you for some reason. Don’t worry; he’s not due back for another twenty-four hours, at least.”

  She bobbed her head. “Alright. Hurry back.”

  “I will,” I reassured her as I shuffled back into the hallway.

  Lucky for me, Viv wasn’t anywhere in sight. I was just outside my room when I saw her exit Ari’s. Viv turned towards me with an intense look. “Where were you?”

  “Walking. I’m sorry I worried you.”

  “I have others that need my attention,” she scoffed. “You need to stay in your bed.”

  I waved my hand over my body. “I’m more resilient than you think.”

  “You’ve proven that a few times now. Too bad the same can’t be said for the other one.”

  I watched her eyes sadden as she glanced over her shoulder at Ari’s door. Joe stepped out at that moment and I went into my own room. Once the door clicked shut, I leaned my ear against it to listen.

  “What’d you think?” Joe asked.

  “If we don’t get her to a hospital, she isn’t going to make it.”

  “Mr. R won’t let her leave.”

  “Then her death is on his hands. Not much we can do, she belongs to him.”

  “Shame. That one had potential.”

  “At least we got our money first,” Viv affirmed.

  “True,” Joe acknowledged. “I need to go check on our guest.”

  Viv responded, “I would not want to be in Aimee’s shoes.” Then I heard her tone turn desperate. “Please. I can’t be here when he finally kills her.”

  Joe’s voice softened. “No worries, baby. I’ll get you out of here before that.”

  I hobbled over to my bed and sat on the edge. Exhaustion was setting in quickly, but I couldn’t help replaying that conversation I had just overheard through my brain. Were they in the sex slave business? I had always assumed Mr. R was a pimp. Made sense, considering all the women I’d seen him with were prostitutes. But this little piece of information caused me to wonder what all he was involved in. I laid back and closed my eyes. Rest was a necessity if I was planning on a rescue, along with my escape. I hoped and prayed Ari could hang on long enough to get out of here. I knew as long as Mr. R was away, Aimee wouldn’t be harmed further. Let’s hope I’m right about that. No matter what, I was getting out of here. Hopefully I wouldn’t be alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  E

  The ache in my chest was all-consuming. A pain like no other, as if someone had just ripped my heart out and left a gaping hole in its place. My logical side kept repeating, she just needed some space. Somehow, that didn’t feel quite right. From what I could tell, she had just left me for good. Why? Was she afraid I was all talk no action? Did she think I was too jaded to love her? Maybe she couldn’t love me? I buried my face in my hands knowing that had to be it. I was unlovable.

  “Hey, E,” Nik quietly said. “What’s going on?”

  I shook from my silent sobs unable to answer him.

  He helped me to my feet and back into my suite. “I take it this has something to do with Lacey?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked out. “She left.”

  “Where’d she go?” Now I was pissed off. Couldn’t he see I was devastated? As my eyes flashed at his, he studied me. Then he groaned out, “Oh, shit. You two had a fight?”

  “No dumbass, she left me.” I heard the rancor in my voice. Did he?

  “Well…go after her.”

  What the fuck? My anger began to build until I realized he was right. I needed to find her. Without further explanation, I marched out of the room. Only one purpose was my focus: find Lacey and make sure she understood that what I felt for her would never go away. Whether she could reciprocate was no longer the issue, I wouldn’t let her leave me again. Ever.

  *****

  I searched and searched for Lacey until dark. There wasn’t any sign of her. The front desk clerk had said she left on foot, but that didn’t mean anything. For all I knew, she found a ride away from the hotel so I couldn’t follow her. Dammit. Frustrated and heartbroken, I entered my suite. To my surprise my brothers were waiting. Alex was on the phone, and Nik was pacing like an injured, caged lion. Without speaking to him, I was aware of
how dangerous he was. His fear licked at my own as I worried about both Aimee and Lacey. His anger was palatable. I could only imagine how much strength it took for him to restrain himself. I sat on the sofa in the corner of the room, rubbing my face with my palms. Until Alex sat next to me and handed me three fingers of vodka, I hadn’t noticed he was off the phone. Distracted much? God, if anything happened to Lacey I would not survive. So, I had to assume what Nik was feeling was a thousand times worse. Seriously, I knew my brother wouldn’t get through the loss of another woman he loved. After a healthy swallow of the fiery liquid, I inquired, “Any leads on Aimee?”

  Nik shot daggers at me as I said her name. I understood his rage; therefore, I wasn’t upset at him. Alex replied, “She was here. Actually did a presentation for the city announcing our plans to buy the historical mine and the renovations we planned.” He watched Nik with caution and then continued, “She had lunch with the board of directors and city council. Last time anyone saw her, she was back here at the hotel. A bellman watched her get on the elevator alone. That’s it. The trail ends.”

  “What about security tapes?”

  Nik ground out, “Tampered with.”

  “Fuck. So it was planned.”

  “Seems that way, yes,” Alex answered.

  We sat there in combustible silence for a few minutes. All signs pointed to Caleb, but Alex and I were smart enough not to voice that to Nik. Besides, he knew. He’d always known she was in terrible danger, even if I had become complacent with such a threat. My brother never had. He worried constantly for her safety. Tried in vain to make her see she would never be safe as long as Reynolds was breathing. Aimee just wouldn’t—or couldn’t— accept that. Apparently he’d been right all along, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do or say to make things okay for him. Fact was, I was just as guilty as Aimee for not believing the threat to be real. Oh, you were aware. You were just too busy falling in love. Yeah, and look where that got me.