Ten minutes and six missed calls later, Dan pulled into the train station car park and stopped in front of a tiny, silver haired woman waving an equally tiny hankie. Her dress, reminiscent of some hideous seventies curtain, billowed in the breeze and displayed an unwelcome length of leg encased in sheer nylon.
“Darling!” she cried. “I thought you’d never get here.”
The sound of that crisp, nasal voice sapped all the righteous rage Dan had managed to cultivate on the car ride over. The voice dragged him back twenty years, maybe even thirty, and placed him at his mother’s side, hanging his head as she brandished yet another of his second place trophies.
“It is rush hour, Mum.”
“We had to settle for that ghastly sandwich place. The green one.”
“Subway? What’s wrong with that?”
“All that greasy, microwaved meat. Terrible. I had to ask your father to find us a sofa in Costa instead. At least they have decent coffee.”
“Hi, Dad.” Dan eyed the older man’s lion-like sweep of white hair and lively brown eyes and held out his hand. His father took it and gave it a brief squeeze.
“You’re just in time, my boy. I don’t have it in me to fight off another group of tourists. Or keep your mother away from them.”
Maxine pursed her lips. “You have no right to shoo away my fans. There’s no harm in signing an autograph or two.”
“I prefer to drink my coffee in peace.”
“You’re such a stick in the mud.”
“And you can’t stand not being the center of attention.”
As the pair began their customary bickering, Dan tuned it out and led his mother to the front passenger side. He held the door for her.
“See that, Julian, I raised him right. Such a good boy.” She pressed a dry, heavily perfumed kiss against his face and folded herself into the car.
Dan slammed the door behind her and scrubbed his cheek with his sleeve. “Want a hand, Dad?”
Julian shook his head and climbed into the back seat. “Let’s just go.”
Back in the car, before Dan managed to fasten his seatbelt, the bickering started again.
“Let me buy you a new car, darling.” Maxine shoved one glossy fingernail into a hole in the dashboard. “This thing is falling apart.”
He eased her hand away from the hole. “It will, if you keep doing that. Besides, I like this car.”
“It isn’t safe. I’ll get you a BMW, or one of those sporty things my agent used to drive. You know the ones...a Lexus.”
“I don’t want a new car.”
“It’s no trouble. I know money must be tight what with that woman leeching it from your pockets.”
His pulse quickened. “Leeching?”
Maxine patted her hair. It was already perfect, but she made a great show of curling it behind her ears before she spoke again. “Carol, or whatever it is.”
“Karen.”
“Her. She’s not working?”
“She’s a student.”
“I knew she was too young for you.”
Dan curled and uncurled his toes within the confines of his shoes. He bit the inside of his cheek and counted to five before he spoke. “She’s thirty-one. It’s a PhD.”
“That’s a fancy way of saying she’s living off the state, darling.”
“Steady, Maxine. Clearly the woman has some brains if she’s doing something like that.” Julian leaned forward to pat Dan on the shoulder. Dan opened his mouth to thank his father, but cut short when Maxine flapped a dismissive hand in his face. “It’s lazy, that’s what it is. Those people who stay in education drinking and smoking, instead of working and contributing like everyone else. Lazy.”
“Like you?” Dan gritted his teeth.
“No, not like me. I’m retired, darling.”
“You haven’t worked for twenty years.”
Maxine turned to face him. Her eyes, surrounded by delicate make-up, narrowed to thin slits. “I’ve done my share, darling. And I still contribute. I don’t even draw my pension.”
“Only because you’re not old enough.” Dan clutched the wheel harder than necessary and took a left at a sharp angle. “What brings you all the way up here?”
A relieved sigh came from the back seat.
“It would be better if we got to your house first. I don’t like to air my affairs in the street.”
Dan glanced around the interior of the car. “I think you’re safe, Mum.”
“I’d rather wait, thank you. I’ll tell you over dinner.”
“You are staying then?”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like Katherine hasn’t prepared anything.”
“Karen, is a damn good cook, but even she needs more than half an hour to prepare a gluten-free, vegan meal for four.” He shot his mother an exasperated look.
“Oh.”
The single syllable lit a flame in Dan’s belly. He exhaled to a slow count of ten. “You didn’t give us much warning. What were we supposed to do?”
“A resourceful woman always finds a way.”
Dan grunted. “Tonight is my turn to cook, anyway.”
“You?” Maxine gasped.
He looked her way. Her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled as if she’d smelled something horrid. Dan sighed loudly before he returned his attention to the road. “I can cook.”
“Yes, of course, darling, but it’s the least she can do. Or is she one of those awful feminist types who refuses to shave her underarms?”
“Mum please...I’ll order takeout.”
“Fine, but no Chinese, or pizza and certainly no curry. I don’t know what it is about you Leicester people. Everything has to be smothered in sauce and spices. Probably to hide the taste of dog and cat meat.”
Dan gave a long, low sigh and said nothing.
Chapter Three
Relief chased quickly by terror made Karen’s skin flush first hot then cold. She straightened and turned her ear to listen a little better. Yes...jingling keys. The clunk of a key turning, followed by the squeal of labored hinges as the front door opened.
“Hello?” a voice called.
“Dan?”
“Kaz? No, it’s Pete.”
Karen sighed. She was relieved to put off the meet with Maxine a few more minutes. “Thank God.” An instant later she remembered her naked body and the cage. She stiffened. A sour taste flooded her mouth. “Shit, Peter?”
“Where are you?”
She hesitated then heard his footsteps pounding up the stairs. It was clear that there was no avoiding the next few minutes.
“In the bedroom.” She closed her eyes. Her skin tingled, every muscle coiled tight with the urge to flee. But where could she go?
The gritty truth of her entrapment finally broke through. There was no escape. There was nowhere to hide. Her body was completely exposed. Fuck... She closed her eyes and waited. The door creaked open. Goosebumps trailed down her arms and legs.
A strangled whimper quivered through the air. “Christ...”
Karen’s eyes popped open. Pete stood framed in the doorway. He wore faded blue jeans covered in old paint and a jacket with similar stains. A smudge of something black and gritty smeared the side of his nose and his close-cropped hair glistened with sweat. His mouth hung open. “What are you doing in there? Are you hurt?”
“Calm down for a second.”
“What the hell?” he whispered, voice broken and feeble with bemusement.
“I’m okay, Pete—”
“But your arms.” He pointed, and his gaze followed his finger, across her arms and chest, lingering on her breasts before hiking back up to her shoulders. “Are they bruises?”
“Whip marks.” She bit through each word, sharp and staccato like cracking bones.
“Fuck!”
“Pete, I’m fine. They’ll be gone within an hour.”
“Jesus, Kaz.” His gaze skimmed the floor, pausing briefly on a black whip with a red handle.
“What’s going on?”
After a few seconds of searching for an answer that wasn’t embarrassing, Karen realized it didn’t exist. She straightened her spine and made her tone firm and clear while trying to ignore the way her breasts thrust forward every time she moved. “We were...playing.”
“Come again?”
“Playing,” she repeated, waggling her eyebrows.
He gave her a blank look.
“Oh, come on Pete, connect the dots. Playing? In the bedroom?”
Color flooded his face: hot, healthy red. “Oh.” He puffed out his cheeks. A grin blossomed on his lips. “Kinky fuckers. You play with cages?”
Karen glared at the floor. She remembered her reluctance when Dan first suggested it and the sneaky way he eventually sweet-talked her into it. Damn his talented tongue.
“Not after this,” she muttered.
“Does he tie you up too? Have his wicked way?”
“It’s not like that!”
Silence. When she looked up, Karen realized Pete hadn’t stopped staring. She felt his gaze trace over her body, electric, like the crackling tip of a violet wand. Surprise mingled with the pleasure she felt at being looked at. Then guilt chased away both emotions.
“Eyes up, Pete.”
He snickered. “Come on, Kaz. You look great.”
Her shoulders lifted. In his face, she saw sincere appreciation mingled with faint lust. Her legs trembled. “Shut up.” The words lacked the venom she wanted. With effort she flicked the mental switch that controlled her voyeuristic side and jerked her head. “The handcuff key is under the drawers. You need to uncuff my hands.”
He stooped, groping beneath the unit with one hand. The whole time his gaze never left the cage. Aware of the view presented by the spreader bar, Karen swiveled round and gave him her back. “Stop mucking around. It didn’t go far.”
“You sure? I can’t feel anything.”
“Try looking.”
She heard shuffling, thumps, and then the eventual slide of something hard moving across the carpet.
Pete touched her shoulder, skimming down her arm to her wrist. “Christ, you’re bendy.” His calloused fingers traced a path over forearm.
She froze and bit her lip. Does he have to touch me like that? The cuffs clicked and both bracelets slid away. Without turning back, she reached for the buckles around her ankles. “Thanks, now give me that blanket. The one in the corner.”
Closing her legs immediately lessened the ache in her hips, and when Pete pushed the fuzzy blanket between the bars, it took great effort not to snatch it. She wrapped it around her body, took a deep breath, then swiveled back round. With great care, she tucked the edges in around her thighs and ass, covering every scrap of skin from the neck down.
“Dan said you needed help. He didn’t tell me what was going on or else I’d have come prepared.” He smirked.
She gaped. His expression matched those she saw on men shamelessly stalking the “career girls” loitering in backstreets or dark alleys near the train station.
To see that look directed at her; to feel the heat of his gaze sliding over her naked skin, knotted her stomach and made bile rise in her throat.
Pete’s smirk vanished. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m kidding.” He shifted beneath her stare and finally dropped his gaze. “What am I supposed to be doing?”
“Dan lost the cage key.” She scanned the floor. “You’ve got to get me out before he comes back with his parents.”
That brought his eyes back up pretty damn quick. He whistled through his teeth. “Why the hell is he bringing them here?”
“Surprise visit.”
“Wow. You two are just—how can you—”
“Pete!” She slapped the bars. “Did you hear me? Find the key.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
He began to search.
Pete laid a bra wire, two pound coins and a tube of lube on the bookcase. Then he began to clear the floor, stacking the whip, a flogger, and a purple dildo on the chest of drawers. With each new toy, his features tightened. A blush spread across his jaw and down his neck. When he picked up a large Perspex butt plug and held it up to the light, she flinched and closed her eyes. She reopened them to find him staring at a brown plastic box attached to a plug. The long shaft had a glass attachment with a bell-shaped end.
He licked his lips. “What the hell is this thing?”
“A violet wand,” she whispered.
“A what? No, don’t tell me.” His hands shook as he laid it on the bed. “Sorry, Kaz, it ain’t here.”
A glance at the wall clock made Karen’s stomach clench. “They’ll be back soon. Maxine can’t see me like this.” Even under the blanket she began to shiver. “Do something.”
“I’m not bloody Houdini.”
“But you are a builder. Don’t you have something to fix this? Like a tool?”
“I didn’t bring the van.”
She looked at his paint splattered clothes.
He followed her gaze. “Painting doesn’t need screwdrivers and hammers, Kaz. And a paintbrush ain’t going to help you.”
“Please, Pete. Please.” She clutched her hair, aware in that moment that her hands were shaking. A flutter in her stomach made her wince. “You don’t get it—Maxine is just—what am I going to do?”
“Breathe, Kaz.”
“I am breathing.”
“Don’t bite my head off. How the hell did you lose the key, anyway?”
“Ask Dan,” she said, mulling on the memory of him playfully dangling the key over his open mouth.
“Well, I’m trying to help. A little gratitude would be nice.”
She sighed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just let me think.” He paced around the cage.
“Can you use something in here to bend the bars? Maybe I can squeeze out.”
“No. It’s reinforced steel. But these corners have screws in them and the door too. Where are Dan’s tools?”
“No idea.”
He stared.
“I don’t live here.” She spread her hands. “How would I know?”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“Oh, excuse me. Maybe next time I’ll keep a handy tool box under the bed.”
“That’s probably not a bad idea.” Pete ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Be right back.”
Abandoned yet again, Karen snuggled deeper into the fluffy embrace of the blanket and took several deep breaths. She watched the clock, trying not to mentally chart Dan’s journey to and from the train station. Three full minutes later Pete returned to the room with a handful of knives.
“One of these should do it,” he said.
Karen watched him work. Several discarded knives later he found one that suited him and started twisting. Soon, the sound of grinding metal chased away the soft hiss of his breathing. His fingers shook as he worked.
“Pete?”
“What? Ow! Fuck!” Pete reared up with his index finger gripped in his fist. Blood welled through the gap in his fingers.
“Are you okay?”
“Aside from slicing my finger open?”
“Sorry,” she said, glancing at the clock again.
“What’s wrong?”
“How long is this going to take?”
“Ages using this piece of crap.” He dropped the bloodied knife. “I need a proper screwdriver. You must know where he keeps stuff like that.”
She shook her head.
“I’ll phone him, then.”
“No.” Karen pressed against the cage, clutching her blanket as the imagined conversation played through her mind. “You can’t phone him.”
“Why?”
“He’ll be with his parents by now. How will he explain that?”
“Fuck, Kaz, what do you want from me?”
She pressed her fingertips to her temples, staring at Pete and the blood dripping down his hairy forearm, off the end of his elbow. A tiny pool formed on the carpet
.
“Try the kitchen drawers. He fixed a shelf last week, maybe he left some stuff out.”
“Progress.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her question chased his retreating back as he headed for the kitchen.
The blanket scratched her bare skin and the silence of the room pressed in, more claustrophobic than the bars of the cage. She longed to pace and drummed her fingers against her thigh in poor substitute. Nervous energy flooded her limbs, making her jiggle first one leg then the other. She gnawed on her fingernails and returned to watching the clock. Then she heard the front door open a second time and, an instant later, Dan’s cheery voice floated up the stairs.
“Hey babe, I’m home!”
Chapter Four
Dan stepped into the house. His pulse filled the back of his throat. He checked the sitting room, found it empty, and knew Karen was still trapped upstairs. “Shit.” His shoulders slumped. “Tea, Mum?”
Maxine stepped over the threshold and into the hallway, frowning at a framed picture of the Manchester United team of 1998. “Yes, darling, that would be lovely. Thank you.”
He pointed. “You sit in the front room. I’ll bring it.”
“Wonderful. Come Julian.” Without pausing, Maxine marched into the sitting room. Julian followed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyelids with the tips of his fingers.
Pausing only long enough to see them sit, Dan darted into the kitchen. There he found Pete, riffling through drawers and wearing an expression like he’d sucked a lemon.
“Hey Pete, is she out?” He lowered his voice, conscious of the short distance between himself and the sitting room.
His friend whirled around and dropped a knife onto the floor. His upper lip curled, showing off a glint of gold in the top row of teeth. “Bastard,” he snarled.
Dan flinched away from the unexpected show of venom. “I know—”
“Do you?”
“I’m sorry!” His gaze strayed to the knife and the small trail of blood drops across the floor. “What happened to you?”
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