Deadly Captive

by Bianca Sommerland

  Not as lovers, not as friends.

  Joe spoke first. "Feel better, Lydia? Vindicated?"

  "Joe, I . . . ." I fumbled for excuses. Naturally, I couldn't find any.

  Joe held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it." He moved to the bed, lifting his hand toward Mary.

  She stood, glaring at him, then set her glare on me. "I don't know what kind of sick game you guys are playing, but, next time, leave me out of it." She went to the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Joe stared at the door, then walked over to the table and swept all the glasses from it in one fell swoop. They shattered against the wall. I cringed as he stepped up to me. "I hope you're happy. I really hope he was a good fuck."

  Joe snatched a blanket from the bed, went to the other side of the room, spread it out, and lay down.

  I watched him for a moment, then simply folded my arms on the table and rested my head on it. We left the bed for Mary. She didn't thank us. I wasn't surprised.

  The masters had changed the game. We had no team left.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary slid her plate over to me and smiled shyly. "You can have the rest. I'm not that hungry."

  I smiled back, grateful. There were always two plates. Joe had stopped leaving me part of his bigger helping. If it weren't for Mary, I would have starved. I doubt Joe would have cared. Thankfully, Mary was more forgiving.

  I hadn't been sure she'd ever forgive either of us, but the silence was too unpleasant for her to hold a grudge, against me anyway. I wasn't sure how she brushed aside my part in everything, but it was clear, the first day after Cyrus came, that she'd decided to take my side. Joe coldly denying me food and refusing to so much as look at me probably helped her choose. Mary felt sorry for me.

  I accepted her sympathy. Much as I hated pity, I couldn't bear more animosity.

  Joe didn't help his case, the way he flirted with her. I knew he did it to hurt me. I caught the glances he shot my way every time he pulled Mary into conversation, poured her drinks, and offered her his leftovers before wolfing them down. Mary spared him only a dirty look before coming to sit with me in the spot I'd claimed at the other side of the room.

  "I asked Cyrus for extra beds," Mary said, drawing her knees to her chest, a secretive smile on her face.

  Her time away from the room seemed to keep her in good spirits. She'd never brought up Cyrus before, so I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. But now that she had . . .

  "When did you see Cyrus?"

  Mary hugged her knees tight and giggled. "Last night. We went to another room and watched a movie." She giggled again. " Interview with a Vampire. Can you believe it?"

  She lowered her voice and leaned close to me. "Brad Pitt has nothing on Cyrus."

  Lips pursed, I faced her. "Mary, you should be careful." I paused, trying to find a way to question her without alienating her. There didn't seem much hope for success. I prayed calm would help. "Did he feed from you?"

  Mary nodded and blushed. "Yeah. I wouldn't stop bugging him until he did."

  "Mary, Cyrus is dangerous. You should—" And, with that badly timed blurt of concern, I lost any chance of helping her.

  Bristling, Mary gave me a narrow-eyed glare. "Lydia, don't. I don't need a lecture." Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "Look, forget I said anything." She gave me a haughty up-and-down look as she stood. "That new dress looks very nice on you, by the way."

  I groaned when the bathroom door slammed. I hadn't thought twice about accepting the dress from Mary. Fed up with wearing rags, I hadn't asked where she'd gotten something in my size, and she hadn't said. Not that she needed to. Almost every night she returned with her arms full of gifts from Cyrus. Clothes, sweets, a beautiful quilt—each patch portraying a different songbird. She acted like a girl experiencing love for the first time. Because of her lack of exposure to his brutal side, she naturally believed we'd lied about how evil Cyrus was. Which made me one of the bad guys.

  Joe used the opportunity to take another jab. "Real smooth, Lydia."

  I scowled. "Shut up, Joe. What is it? Sore that she's more into the psycho than you?"

  Laughing, Joe walked over to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to my feet.

  "No. As much as I hate that she trusts him, I've got to give her one thing." He slid his hand across my face, then combed his fingers softly into my hair. "At least she's consistent. She doesn't jump on the slightest chance to get off."

  I'd been relaxing to his touch, realizing now how much I missed it. It took me a moment to catch his implication. When I did, I moved away from him, my back to him so he wouldn't see how my lip quivered. "Fuck you."

  Needing something soothing to abuse my body with, I knelt beside the bed.

  Joe sneered. "Not that desperate. Not yet."

  In the midst of grabbing a bottle of Baileys, I stiffened. I rose, calmly set the bottle on the table, then walked up to Joe and punched him in the face. I watched with satisfaction as he stumbled into the wall. He might be stronger than me, but catching him off guard had its benefits.

  Clenching and unclenching my fist, I waited until he had straightened before speaking. "You hate me now. I get it. Something happened that you can't get over. Fine.

  I wish I could find a way to explain what happened, but, even if I did, I realize . . . ." I looked straight into his hard, cold eyes. "I don't need to justify my actions to you."

  Joe nodded curtly. "You're right. And it's a good thing. Because I'd hate to have to sit through you scrambling for some lame-ass reason for acting like a whore." His lips curled. "I was a fool to think you were worth saving."

  His words hit me like a kick in the gut. I took a step back. Something in my expression must have reached him because the hardness in his eyes faded. He reached out to me. I considered letting him hold me, but the inclination didn't last. In our situation, the last thing I needed was someone who didn't care enough to find out why I'd done something, didn't care enough to accept that I'd made a mistake. Being bitter was one thing. Now, he had disparaged everything we once had.

  Joe knew he had gone too far. I could see the apology in his eyes, but he never got a chance to voice it. The door opened, and we both turned.

  "Joe." Chrissie's smile was, as usual, sickeningly sweet.

  "Chrissie," Joe said warily.

  I moved to the bed when she went to him, wanting to put some distance between us. She closed the door, and I couldn't help feeling relieved. She'd come alone. Not that the absence of the others offered much reassurance. She was strong enough to take us both if she wanted to. I selfishly hoped she'd be satisfied with Joe.

  She circled him, the heels of her six-inch stilettos making no sound as they hit the floor. It didn't seem natural. Her chest moved, but her breath was silent. Her hand stroked absently down her side, along the thick blue silk of her dress, and still there was nothing.

  Joe wasn't as quiet. His hard breath, much louder than it should have been, left his mouth through his teeth. The swath of cloth he wore around his hips rustled as he shifted his weight. Chrissie had caught Joe after his daily exercise routine. Normally, he had jeans on. Several times, I'd been tempted to ask him what he'd had to do to get them. I hadn't gotten real clothes until Mary had acquired some from Cyrus. Joe didn't have many garments, but he had enough to make me wonder. Nothing came for free around here.

  Chrissie's next words seemed a direct response to my thoughts. "Mary's gotten several agreeable reprieves from this room. I've entreated to Cyrus to get you the same."

  She stopped in front of him. "He's considering it."

  Joe's response was automatic. "Thank you."

  Chrissie grinned. She pressed her hand to his bare chest, then grazed her long, red nails up to his throat. Her thumb passed over his jugular, and the muscles of his neck jumped in response. Joe closed his eyes.

  "Are you grateful, Joe?" Chrissie pulled him down, still stroking his throat, and kissed his lips. "Would you like to take a break from this with me?
"

  At Joe's nod, I almost stood, wanting to step in for some ridiculous reason. Joe hated Chrissie, and, after all she'd done to him, I could well understand. What I couldn't understand was his passive acceptance of her touch now. Joe's value, thus far, had been his willfulness and the fun our captors had in finding new ways to bring him down. He knew this, and it was part of the reason he was often so obstinate when they were around.

  What changed?

  Chrissie ran her nails carefully down Joe's throat. "Get on your knees. I want you to make it a little easier for me. Would you do that?"

  Without a word, Joe lowered to his knees. He tilted his head, and she dropped her mouth to the offered flesh. She bit down, and he groaned, hands on her hips, gripping into the silk. Every deep suck brought another moan, and soon I could see Joe was erect beneath the cloth that covered him. He was enjoying himself very much. I decided not to intrude.

  Easing her fangs from his flesh, Chrissie licked the wound closed, then pulled Joe to his feet. "My turn." She glanced at me. "If we could use the bed, Lydia?'

  I frowned, but didn't say a word as I stood and moved to the table to take a seat.

  I turned so I wasn't facing them, but watched from the corner of my eyes. I was curious.

  This was the first time I'd seen Joe submit without threats or violence. And I needed to know why.

  Chrissie stretched out on the bed and spread her legs. Joe lifted her skirts and lowered his face between her thighs. I could hear the sound of him lapping at her, and the wet sound as his fingers joined in with his tongue. Chrissie writhed on the bed.

  "That's it, Joe." She shifted her hips and arched back. "So close. Just a little harder." She drew in a sharp breath and closed her legs against his head.

  When she'd stopped writhing and moaning, Chrissie sat up, waited for Joe to rise, and then kissed his lips, glossy with her wetness. "You did a good job. Now you may choose. How do you want me?"

  For a split second, Joe seemed to return to himself. A look of horror crossed his face. When Chrissie massaged the side of his neck, he shuddered and answered. "I want you bent over the bed. But—"

  Chrissie covered his mouth with her hand. "Hush. I can do that first. Take that nasty loincloth off and lie down. I want to show you something."

  The cloth was thrown to the floor. Joe obediently rested on the bed. Chrissie moved on her knees until she was crouched between his knees. With one hand, she began jerking him off. With the other, she held her hair behind her so she could bite into his thigh.

  Joe groaned, loud, and his stomach muscles clenched. The head of his dick was purple, and it looked like the ecstasy had reached the point of pain. Chrissie released him, lifted a little, and circled her tongue around his proud crest. Taking him in her mouth, she enveloped him to his balls.

  Joe didn't let her do it again. Grabbing her by the hair, he pulled her up and off the bed, shoved her face first over it, and threw her skirts up. Half-crazed, he plunged his dick into her, his balls smacking her with every violent lunge. Already well into it, Chrissie didn't take long before she spasmed against him. Joe came seconds later.

  Sated, Joe pulled out and dropped onto the bed. I kept my eyes on him and saw the moment he regained his hold on himself. When he did, he stared at her.

  Chrissie saw him and gave a delighted little laugh. "What's wrong, Joe?" Her tone was syrupy. "You don't understand what happened? Would you like me to explain?" Straightening the skirts of her hopelessly wrinkled dress with one hand, Chrissie patted his cheek with the other, laughing again when he jerked away from her.

  "It's the feeding, my dear boy. We haven't allowed you to enjoy it up 'til the last time we visited. It is positively succulent when done right. Can be quite addictive actually." She turned her head and winked. I followed her gaze and saw Mary standing in the doorway.

  Mary's dark flesh had a gray cast. The way she held the doorframe, I knew she was going to faint. I hurried to her side and hugged her to me. She hid her face against my chest and jumped when Chrissie walked out and the door softly shut.

  "That's why I always want Cyrus so bad?" Mary whispered with her face pressed to my neck. "That's why you did that . . . why you . . . last time . . . ." She looked up, cheeks streaked with tears. "Lydia, I'm so sorry. God, you tried warning me, I wouldn't listen."

  Petting her hair, I opened my mouth to tell her it was okay. I didn't get a chance.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  We froze. Joe stood. The door swung open, revealing Cyrus.

  "Mary, come here my love. Are you all right?" He took a few steps into the room and held his arms out to her.

  Mary hesitated. I caught the brief smirk on Cyrus's lips before he dropped back into his feigned look of concern. I didn't want to let Mary go, but I knew nothing good would come from me holding her back. Dropping my arms, I stood there, helpless, as she went to him and let him take her into his embrace.

  Cyrus kissed her forehead. "Come, darling. I have another movie planned for us.

  From Dusk 'til Dawn. You can tell me all about it."

  The quiet was dark and heavy when they left. I saw Joe take a step toward me and focused on him. Seeing his intent, I was tempted to tell him to go to hell. Instead, I bowed my head and met him half way.

  "Please, Lydia. Please forgive me," he whispered into my hair. "I was an ass.

  Worse. I was heartless and cruel, and you were right. If I cared as much about you as I've said, I would have tried to find some compassion. I would have known there was more to it than what I thought I saw." He backed away a little and looked down at me.

  "You knew when you saw me with her, didn't you?"

  I nodded. Taking his hand, not wanting to be separated from him, I went to the table and picked up the abandoned bottle of Baileys. Tugging him over to the bed, I waited as he sat, then curled up on his lap. "Even though you've been a dick lately, you were still you. That changed when she touched your neck. It was like you became someone else. Like you were obsessed. I didn't know exactly why, but I didn't need to."

  Joe sighed and wrapped his arms around me. "I don't deserve your forgiveness—

  "

  "And if we were anywhere else, you wouldn't get it." I opened the bottle and took a little sip. Not to get drunk. I just wanted a comfortable buzz. "But we're not. I'm tired of being stuck in this room with two people that hate me."

  Kissing my neck, he gave me a little squeeze. "Mary was still talking to you."

  "Because she's a teenage girl and a chatterbox," I said, smiling a little. "I'm glad she decided I was still fit to talk to. I'd hate to see what kind of conversations she would have with herself."

  He chuckled, but it was an empty sound. "At least she amuses Cyrus that should keep her safe."

  "For now." A dull ache settled in my chest as my mind went over all the things Cyrus could be doing to Mary at that very moment. "But what happens when he gets bored of her?"

  "We'll be gone by then."

  "Really? Well if you've got something planned—"

  "I did! When I only had you and me to consider . . . ." He groaned and rested his forehead on my shoulder. "After you were tortured and Mary joined us, I had to rethink everything. Things are more complicated."

  How much you wanna bet that's exactly what Cyrus intended? I almost asked if Joe thought Cyrus was stupid. He would expect us to try something. Mary could have been added to the mix as a handicap.

  "Mary's smart. Now that she knows what Cyrus is really like—" I struggled to find the words to convince him she wouldn't hamper an attempt to escape. Only, I couldn't convince myself. "Joe, she won't survive half of what he's done to me."

  "Don't you think I know that?" He put his hands on my hips, and I braced myself, sure he'd shove me off his lap. Instead, he laid me on the bed and looked down at me. "Every scar on your body is a reminder of how I've failed you. If you've lost faith in me . . . ."

  His words trailed off. When I didn't answer, he dropped his hea
d and rubbed his face with his hands.

  "I don't blame you," he said.

  I touched his cheek, then grabbed his wrist when he twisted away from me.

  Arching up, I released his wrist and cupped his face in my hands. "You listen to me. I haven't lost faith in you. I just need you to trust me as much as I trust you."

  "This isn't about trust, Lydia." He groaned and rubbed his scruffy cheeks against my palms. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. You'll know everything when the time is right."

  I smiled and nodded, then took my place beside him on the bed. Snuggled up in his big strong arms, I closed my eyes and tried not to worry. But doubt crept into my subconscious.

  What if the right time came too late to save us all?

  Won't happen. I told myself stubbornly. Joe knows what he's doing.

  But he didn't. And neither did I.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary returned during the night. I woke when she crawled onto the bed, and held her while she cried. When she finally calmed down, I asked her what had happened.

  She told me she'd had sex with Cyrus, had sex with him, and liked it. She hated herself for liking it because she saw through him now. I wished we could have spared her that, could have left her with her illusions. Her disgust with herself tore at her much worse than anything else he could have done to her. I was sure that was exactly how he'd planned it.

  It wasn't the worst thing he did to her. Just a few nights later, he came in with Bruno. After threatening both Joe and me with death should we intercede, he seduced Mary and had her willingly sucking his dick while Bruno fucked her. Joe shouted at them to stop, but I held him back, knowing Cyrus would carry out his threat. To live, we stayed back as they used her, watched her travel the spectrum from rapture to pain as they shared her.

  That had been another night when I could do nothing but hold her when she finally came to bed, skin scrubbed raw in the bathroom with the ragged strips of the dress she'd shredded, a gift from Cyrus.