by Brit Vosper
When I’d regained consciousness I’d shouted for help, but I barely heard my own cries, never mind anyone else. I’d kicked on the sides, banged on the lid, and screamed until I was hoarse, but the car never stopped for long and no one came to my rescue.
Once the panic had subsided, I’d conserved my energy; I knew I’d need all the fight I could get real soon.
The fear which overwhelmed me when I was first put in here had sunk to the pit of my stomach. It sat there and simmered, throwing pangs of fresh terror through my nervous system when I thought about what would happen next; it kept me on edge.
Now though, it was anger that raged within me.
I was angry at him for doing it, and angry at Marcus for putting me in this situation. Most of all, I was angry at myself for falling for it.
How could I be so stupid? Why did I leave the restaurant after I saw him? Why the fuck didn’t I walk away when he called me back?
I should’ve seen it coming. The fierce expression when he cornered me on the street was enough of a clue. It wasn’t the look of a man out for a chat that’s for damn sure. It was more akin to a predator with a kill in its sights. The focus he had on me was chilling.
The car slowed to a crawl, and my body tensed with apprehension. Preparing for an eventual stop and the chance to gain my freedom. It turned left and carried on. I caught my breath.
It can’t be long before we get to wherever he was taking me. I’d felt the slow, stop and start of the city then the speed of a motorway. Now, we were twisting around country lanes. There’s only so far you can drive on an island. I figured we must be heading north. We’d been driving too long for it to be south of London. We were somewhere in the Midlands or over towards Wales. If it was any further than that we would’ve stayed on the motorway. That knowledge didn’t help me much, but it made me feel somewhat better knowing the rough vicinity of my location.
The car crawled again and came to a stop. My heart jumpstarted, bounding within its cavity. The music and the engine switched off. My pulse pounded in my ears. Adrenalin scored through my veins, and my body tightened like a wound spring. It was time.
If I was to have any chance of getting away, I had to be ready to take him off guard and come out fighting.
I walked my shoulders to the back of the boot and laid with my feet ready to kick out as soon as the lid opened.
The car door slammed shut, and I shook at the noise. Every one of my senses was in overdrive. His footsteps crunched on gravel, but they grew fainter instead of louder. He was leaving me in here; for the time being at least.
Wherever we were, he was in no rush to remove me from the boot. That meant there was no risk for him. We might be in the middle of nowhere, in a forest or field where he could kill and bury me without being disturbed.
He was going to kill me.
Fresh terror engulfed my mind. My hands went cold, and my body shook. My breathing became even more rapid, and I thought I’d pass out. I couldn’t, I needed to stay alert. I had to get out of this.
Placing my bound hands over my mouth, I focused on my breath, trying to make it long and slow. It was all I was able to do to steady the light-headedness. Subduing the panic, I tried to engage my rational mind.
Think, Olivia.
The footsteps were on the right-hand side from the driver’s door. Chances are, if he walked straight he would return from that side to open the boot. I could position myself to get the best aim at kicking him, but he was too strong. Fighting didn’t help when he put me in the boot.
Maybe I’d have better odds at making a run for it? If I positioned to the passenger side on my feet, then I could take off when he opened the lid. It was my best option.
Manoeuvring my shoulders again, I swung my body around, and curled my knees up to my chest. There wasn’t much room above me, but I hoped years of yoga would at least help me position myself upright. I pushed up on my right elbow and rocked onto my knees.
Good but not great. I needed leverage to make a jump. Stretching my left leg out to the side, I uncurled it, and put the weight onto my foot before sliding it back towards me. There wasn’t enough room to be in a full squat, but there was enough weight on my left leg to give me the lift I needed. I extended my right leg as far back as possible and positioned into a low runner’s lunge. Holding my bound hands on the floor in front of me, I waited for his return.
He took his time. It was another ten minutes before his footsteps approached.
I was right; they came back from the driver’s side. My body trembled, partly from the nerves of his return, but mostly from holding the lunge position for so long. I hoped an adrenaline kick would clear out the ache when the boot opened. I closed my eyes and steeled my focus on the coming task.
Run. Nothing else, just run.
The keys jangled, and metal scraped as it slid into the lock. As soon as I heard the click, I pushed up on the lid of the boot. It flew open, and the cold rush of air gave me the start I needed. I pushed into my legs with all the force I had left and flung myself over the side.
He grappled with my ankles and caught hold of one; halting my momentum short and causing me to fall face first into the gravel. The impact stung, but it didn’t stop me. I kicked out at him with my free leg and pulled forwards with my hands, grabbing a handful of stones as I did. He caught my other leg and pulled me towards him. I spun on my back and threw the stones, hard.
“Fuck!”
One hit him on the side of his eye, and he dropped a hand in reflex. I took the opportunity and kicked at his other arm with my free leg. His grip loosened, and I pulled away, scrambling to my feet. I ran forward off the gravel and out into the field ahead. There was a dense tree line in the distance. If I was able to get to that I’d have a chance of escape.
“Olivia, don’t make me run for you.”
The amusement tinged in his voice. Was he fucking insane?
I increased my stride and sprinted. He started after me. I heard his footsteps on the gravel then the earthy thuds on the wet grass. He was gaining. I could feel him drawing near. My lungs burned with the cold night air and my legs were heavy from the exertion, but I rallied the energy in my muscles and pushed harder. This was flight or fight at its most primal level.
The thuds grew heavier behind and his breath drew closer. I had no more push. It was as fast as I could go. The tree line was still well off into the distance. I wouldn’t make it.
Pivoting to the left, I tried to out manoeuvre him. There were a series of buildings ahead in the darkness which I hadn’t seen in my panic. If I couldn’t run, I could hide. There was a large country farmhouse with the lights on, I guessed that’s where he was taking me, but there were several dark buildings to the right. They looked like barns. I headed for them.
The turn had decreased my lead, and he was looming behind. The hairs on my neck prickled as his presence threatened the impending end to the chase. He grabbed my waist and tackled me to the floor. His weight careered into my back as I landed on the grass. I tried to scramble from underneath. To struggle and kick against him. It was no use, he had me locked down. He turned me on to my back, knelt on my thighs and pinned my hands above my head.
He hovered over me, catching his breath. It was hot on my neck as he leant in closer. There was the same look in his eyes he held earlier this evening. The same intense stare that unnerved me. A look of raw need and all-consuming focus.
A smile grew on his face as he studied me. I could do nothing but lay there and glare back, trying to understand this whole fucked up situation.
He’d chased me. I’d feared for my life. But now he’d caught me, I wasn’t afraid of him.
“You never make things easy, do you?” The amusement returned in his eyes.
I turned my head away not wanting to see it. He removed one hand from my wrists and grabbed my chin, turning me back to face him.
“Lesson number one: when I ask you a question, you reply.”
If he wanted me to answer him,
then that was the last thing I would do. I tried to shake his grip, but he only squeezed harder.
“I won’t repeat myself, Olivia.”
He pressed his thumb hard under the back of my jaw. Pain exploded up through my skull and a sickening pressure built behind my eyes. It reached explosion point, and an agonised cry betrayed my resolve. “No!”
He smiled and released his grip. The side of my face throbbed like I’d had my wisdom tooth removed.
“If you do as you’re told, I won’t have to punish you. Something tells me you’ll learn that the hard way.”
“What do you expect me to do? Give in to being taken and murdered?”
His eyebrows raised. He looked offended by my question. “I may be many bad things, Olivia, but I am not a murderer.”
“You’re a kidnapper with morals?” I huffed. “Yeah, it looks that way from this position.”
“There are a few lines I won’t cross, murder is one. Besides, the last thing I want is you dead. You’re far too valuable for that.”
“Then what the fuck are you going to do with me?”
The smile widened across his face. “I’m going to break you.”
Eleven
Olivia
He carried me to the farmhouse across his shoulder. I’d struggled, but when he forced my knee the wrong way once, it was enough to stop me kicking. He had a skill for causing me just the right amount of pain to restrict my attempts. I resigned myself to the fact he wouldn’t let me get away from him again tonight.
Placing my hands on his back, I lifted my head and took in my surroundings. The house we approached was large, but not grand. It had a simple, rustic feel to it. Maintained but not exactly loved. If it was his house, it matched him perfectly.
He carried me through the front door which opened into a narrow hallway. The walls were sparse. No decoration or pictures hung that I could see. We passed the old oak staircase and to the back of the house. Into a large country kitchen, complete with a ceramic basin sink and bare wooden floors. The windows were as undressed as the floorboards. Old sash frames housed the glass and I couldn’t see anything but a simple latch to keep it secure. The back door still held the key in the lock.
It’d be far too easy to escape from here; he’d obviously made other arrangements for me.
My fears were confirmed when a lock clicked, and a heavy door creaked before he carried me into the dank pit of the house. It had to be a basement. I hated basements. We descended the solid stone stairs, and I heard another lock, this one much heavier. It reminded me of the steel door at our warehouse. A cold shudder crept across my skin.
Old sandstone walls dripped with damp, and the single bare lightbulb did nothing but dance shadows over the cracks. When we turned the corner, I saw a cell to my left. An actual fucking cell, with bars and chains. There was a small sink and a toilet, but that was it.
Dread pitted in my stomach and sweat beaded on my lip. What the fuck is this guy doing with cells in his basement? This had to be more than just a one-off abduction. More than whatever they’d planned for me and my father.
We stopped at the third cell. He opened the bars and turned to walk in. There were two more cells on the opposite side. One housed a small, blonde girl kneeling in the centre of the floor. She looked up at me through her hair; meek, scared and innocent.
My heart sank. They were dealing in women. I knew they’d be up to nasty shit, but I didn’t think they were this depraved. My body tensed as rage bubbled from deep within. Whatever he’d put her through, I vowed I’d pay him back tenfold.
He dropped me on my feet, pushed me to the wall and held my shoulders hard against it.
I stared up into his fierce eyes, wanting nothing more than to rip them out. “Who the fuck is she?”
His eyes narrowed as he glared back. A coldness emanated out from his stoney expression. “Another guest.”
I steeled my hatred towards him. “You mean another product?”
He cocked a half-smile that didn’t crease his face. “I’d have thought you’d be more concerned with your own predicament.”
“I can look after myself.”
“Not any more.”
He grabbed the chain from above my head and pinned me to the wall with his chest. Winded from the force, I was barely able to breathe between the crush and heat of him. Fresh sweat from his earlier exertion mixed with the scent of sandalwood and gave him a manly smell.
Cold metal pinched against my skin as he fixed the stiff collar around my neck. The lock clicked and my freedom was gone.
Even after everything I’d been through that evening, that little click spread more dread through my bones than anything else. It removed the hope of a quick escape. It trapped me in this situation. Made me his possession.
I’d never been so vulnerable.
As if he sensed it, he stood back. Then folded his arms and watched as I reached up to fumble with the padlock. The cocky demeanour returned now he had me secure. A smug smile crept across his face, and that same annoying glint of amusement he had this afternoon creased his eyes.
It irritated me before, but now, it was a whole new level of frustration.
I scowled. “Are you going to sell me?”
He nodded. “Eventually.”
There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice. To him, trading women was like owning a pet shop. We were livestock. “How could you even think of selling another human being?”
He huffed. “Easy. Where there’s demand, there’s supply.” He dropped his chin and winked. “You should know that. I’m simply providing a service.”
I couldn’t believe he was so blasé about something so evil. “You fucking low-life, piece of shit.”
His eyebrows raised as he chuckled. “That’s rich, coming from you. Aren’t you one of the biggest drug traffickers in the country?” He swayed his hand with a knowing narrow of his eye. “Amongst other things.”
“It’s different.”
The smirk grew as he studied me. He knew he was touching a nerve. “Yeah, it’s worse. I destroy two, maybe three lives at a time to turn a tidy profit. You destroy thousands.”
“They destroy their own lives.”
He laughed and stepped forward, taking his time to get in my face.
“You think an addict has a choice? Do you think they choose to be trapped in a vicious cycle of desperation? Where their only release is through the slavery you sell them? Please. You’re even more reprehensible than I am.” He leant in and held my chin up, hovering his glare into my own. “Step off your high horse, princess. Remember that next time you get the chance to look at that pretty face of yours in the mirror.”
My fists clenched as the rage built, and I spat in his face. It was the only thing I could do to show him what I thought of him. Really, it was because he was right.
Anger laced his grimace as he straightened and wiped it away with the back of his hand. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that.” He stretched his neck to each side, and the frustration dropped from his expression. Replaced with an air of calm satisfaction that made my stomach drop.
“I’ve been waiting to teach you this lesson all day.”
That was what he wanted. A reaction to give him an excuse to hurt me. As he unfastened his leather belt, panic resurfaced. It gripped my chest tight and sent a cold sweat beading over my skin. My hands trembled as I clenched my fists together. There was no escape. No fight would stop him from doing whatever he wanted. Why didn’t I keep my emotions in check?
His eyes burned with amusement. Whatever he was going to do, he’d enjoy it. “This may not be creative, but it is effective.”
Pulling the buckle from the loops, he gathered the thick leather in his hands. I realised he was taking it off. He was going to hit me with it. I was relieved it wasn’t anything else. Although, that might come later.
Dropping the tail end, he outstretched his arm. Then flicked the leather back and whipped it hard over the side of my thigh. The searing
pain exploded through my left leg like a burning blade had cut through my flesh. Yelping in agony, my knee gave way. Only the metal collar choking my throat stopped me from falling. I grabbed at the restriction on my neck and pulled to my feet as I tried to move away from him. The chain only allowed me to move a step.
The leather came down in the same place and set my skin alight. I screamed and raised my knee, grabbing my thigh with both hands, trying to shield from another strike. Tears stung my eyes as I forced back a sob.
“Move your hands, Olivia.”
I shook my head and held my leg closer.
“I won’t tell you again.”
He took a step to align with me and dealt another slash. It landed on my hands and curled back over my arse. I didn’t think it was possible, but it was even more painful. The sharp heat ripped through my hands and raced up my forearms. I cried out and pulled my hands into my chest, cowering into the wall. My pulse was thick in my veins and my whole body throbbed.
“This is for spitting in my face.”
The swish of leather cut through the air and a heavy strike cracked across my arse. The pain made me gasp. Overwhelmed with the agonising bite. My head clouded and I couldn’t think about anything but the pain.
“This is for running from the boot.”
Another loud crack and the pain flashed up through my chest, gripping my lungs so I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed the chain above, afraid I’d fall if I didn’t. My head was light and spinning.
“And this is for ruining my shirt this afternoon.”
The heavy smack hit my arse. It merged with the exquisite pain already devastating my body. I became adrift in a sea of fire, lost to everything but the feeling. It physically consumed me, but freed my consciousness to explore a perverse pleasure in it. A surging lightness that wasn’t unlike the feeling I had after taking my blinding hot showers. Only much, much stronger.
“You will learn to respect me, Olivia. Whether you like it, or not.”
