by Lyra Parish
"Tell me again how much you hate me."
"You'd like that wouldn't you?"
And that's when his hand slapped my ass, hard.
"Tell me."
Then another slap slammed against my bare skin. Luke wasn't holding back at all, instead he gave me every bit of his strength. I bit my bottom lip and held back whimpers. Then another slap, and another, and another. With every hit, the chains jingled and crashed against the wall. I felt so much pain that I became deadened to it. He kept the hard slaps coming until he wore himself out and panted behind me.
I looked over my shoulder at him, and the tears welled in my eyes. The imprints of his hand on me burned, and the pain radiated up and down my body. My hair fell into my face, and Luke tucked it behind my ear. I flinched.
"I'm sorry. It's for your own good," he whispered.
No words formed. I couldn't reply. I had nothing to say to him.
Luke looked at the marks on my ass and exited. He left me standing with my arms above my head. Today was one of the worst days I had experienced since I'd been taken, and I had a feeling there were many more of these to come.
I closed my eyes, imagined Finnley and my parents, and for the first time since I had left, I wanted to go home. Home as in back to Texas. I leaned my forehead against the wall and wished someone would come in, anyone, to free my arms. Like the devil heard my prayers, the minions entered.
"Looks like you got your ass beat real good," one said. I didn't turn around, but I felt a hand on my other ass cheek, the one that didn't have welts. Forcefully, I pushed my leg out and knocked the skinny one in the balls. Cab driver decided I couldn't do that without consequences and headed toward me to avenge his friend, and he did. With tight hands grasped around my neck, he slammed me against the wall.
"You shouldn't have done that, bitch."
My vision slowly faded to dark. I gasped for air. I needed to live. I wouldn't die by the hands of this bastard. Maybe another one, but not him. My knees went slack, and he released my neck. I gasped for air.
As much as I wished my time in this prison would end, I didn’t want the end to be by death. Club guy stood after he adjusted his balls that I had crushed so easily, and slapped me across the face with the back of his hand.
"I hope Luke fucking kills you, and I hope I get to watch," he said.
Once he physically and verbally abused me, I assumed we were even, because he then released me from the cuffs.
My body slid down the wall and I lay there in a crumpled heap for an unknown amount of time. If I made it out of here alive, I would seek revenge on them all.
Nights drifted into days, and days into night. Time didn't exist. A piece of me wanted to sleep forever but my bastard wouldn't let me. He brought a dress for me to wear along with a towel and new soap. Maybe he understood how horrible the other soap was on my skin, but that would mean he had feelings, and I knew he didn't.
When Luke visited me today, agitation seemed to drift from him. His bad mood practically suffocated me, and I wanted it to. He picked up one of the wooden chairs and slammed it against the wall. It broke in several pieces. He knocked over the table and tried to tear the room apart with his bare hands. I didn't dare say a word. He was in a dangerous place, and I didn't want to get caught in the middle, but I knew the crosshairs were already on me.
He breathed deeply, his chest rose and fell from the force he used to destroy every piece of furniture in the room. Pieces of wood lay around in scattered piles. I stood there with my arms crossed, waiting for him to speak.
"We will soon become one. I'm going to fuck you, and you'll beg for more of me. Maybe then you'll finally realize what you've been missing."
I swallowed as he stared at me with crazy in his eyes. I kept my mouth shut for once. He walked toward me, and I backed against the wall. His body stood inches from mine, and I wanted to push him away, but didn't want to light the fuse to a ticking time bomb.
Luke ran his fingers through my hair, wrapped strands in his fist, and tilted my face up to look at his before he forced himself on me. Forcefully, he gave me several lip-numbing kisses. I struggled from his mouth, but when I did, he pushed his lips harder onto mine. Then his tongue was down my throat, and he kissed up and down my neck. I pushed him, but he roughly pinned my body between his and the wall. His breath was hot on my skin.
"Why do you fight it? I know you want it."
He ran his fingers up my dress and held my breast in his hands. He moaned, and it disgusted me. With forceful hands, he grabbed the material and ripped it open. The dress fell to the floor around me.
I stood in bra and panties in front of him, and he smiled. He really frightened me. If he wanted to have sex with me up against this wall, I wasn't strong enough to stop him. I knew that I had no choices, and the thought of that pissed me off and scared me. It sickened me to look at him, so I turned my head away.
His lips swept across the softness of my neck. He moved down my body and kissed the tops of my breasts, then dropped to his knees in front of me.
I took myself from the situation, from it all, and forced myself void of Luke's hands and lips on me. There were memories I wanted to erase from my mind and this was steadily climbing the list of things to forget. Luke hooked the lace of my panties with his index finger, and before he inched them down, the door slammed open and drew me from the abyss.
All I could see were red high heels and skinny jeans.
FINNLEY
Thirty-one
I wrote dark poetry on a napkin at the bar as I waited for the men that watched over the underground sex ring to arrive. My thoughts had skulked in a dangerous place for weeks. But no matter, I had to make sure Jennifer hadn't been seen where the darkness of the industry roamed freely. It was no place for her.
Everything had polar opposites. Where there was a positive, there was a negative. Where there was The Elite, there was prostitution, sex slaves, pimps, and whores. Where there was Finnley Felton, there should have been Jennifer Downs, but someone decided to fuck it up, and for that, I would return the favor. I didn't get back, I got even plus ten.
I popped my knuckles as I waited, my patience waning.
To keep my mind busy, I finished scribbling my thoughts and downed the Maker’s Mark. When two bulky men sat on either side of me, I tucked the napkin in my pocket and snapped for the bartender to bring us a round.
"Gentlemen," I said coolly. I wasn't intimidated by them, especially not after dealing with men worse than them for half of my life. I knew the gangsters on the other side of the spectrum, and they knew me. We agreed to stay out of each other's way, which we did easily, but they owed me, and it was time to pay. If I hadn't bailed their boss out of jail, they wouldn't be where they were today. After saving their asses more times than I could count, they agreed to stay underground and away from me and The Elite. With that, I agreed to leave them the hell alone. Money talked. Always had and always would. Luckily, I had enough to have conversations for days.
The two guys didn't respond, but I didn't expect them to. I pulled the photo of Jennifer, the one that was in her Elite file, from the inside of my coat pocket and slid it to my right. He picked it up and narrowed his eyes, then handed it to his buddy. I continued to look forward and sipped my drink calmly, though my insides blazed with a need-to-know so strong that it almost made me sick. One thing I was good at: poker face.
The man beside me sucked in a deep breath and scooted the picture back to me. I placed it inside my coat pocket. It had been with me since I came home.
"I've seen her," he said.
My breath hitched in my chest, and that's when the violent rage almost consumed me. I had to count to ten, fucking twenty, to calm down and evaluate the situation.
When I was a teen, heavily involved with the gangs of London, I almost killed a group of men with my bare hands after losing control. A screaming girl in a dark alley stopped me in my tracks. Four sick fucks had kidnapped and proceeded to have their way with her, but
I caught them with their pants down before they could do any damage. I beat the lot of them to a pulp and left them for dead. A piece of me wanted to burn them alive for being the bottom-feeders of the city, but I didn't. Instead, I told them if they ever fucking touched or kidnapped another person, I would hunt them down, chop off each of their dicks, then proceed to shove them down each of their throats, one by one, as they watched each other choke. To this day, Abbot watched them. Those men never tried anything like that again, and if they did, a sharp knife would be waiting for them.
The unstoppable force I slowly transformed into in London was not the person I wanted to be. That wasn't the life I wanted to lead: always watching my back, fighting for my rights, and killing. I was intelligent, practical, talented, and I had street smarts. Don't get me wrong, I was still unstoppable, but I didn't want to be known as a fucking murderer. Monsters didn't care or have a conscience. I was different.
I needed a change from it all, and Columbia had offered me a full scholarship. It helped that my father was an alumnus. The Felton name became a free pass, almost. Columbia kicked my ass, made me into the businessman I was, and for that, I would forever be grateful.
I finished my drink and so did they. They waited for me to speak though very little would be said between us.
"She’s alive. Make sure she stays that way." I didn’t say it as a question, but as more of a conviction. I knew her heart still beat, and that would keep me temporarily satisfied. If any woman could be slung through the mud and make it out alive, breathing and snarling, it would be her. I hoped she wasn't giving them to much hell, but a little piece of me knew she was. If she acted out too much, Jennifer would get hurt. I couldn't have that. Fucking firecracker.
The leader nodded his head, and I wanted nothing more than to demand he bring me to her, but that's not how deals like these worked. I knew that. Instead, I continued to stay disinterested in them, and the whole conversation, and they returned the gesture.
After they finished their drinks, they swiveled from their stools and stalked out the front door. Although I contemplated following them, it would have done me no good. They could be trusted, especially considering the amount of favors that were owed to me. If they fucked this up, the two of them would be dead, and not by my hands, but by their boss.
Finnley fucking Felton meant something underground. I was not to be toyed with, and even though I wasn't a murderer, they all knew that I would kill and take every single one of them down to get what I wanted. In less than a month, I could have half of the gang of London here to battle it out with these fucks, and they knew it. Plus, I had the money to fund the escapade. My background was on a need to know basis, and all the mob bosses, drug lords, and slave drivers knew what I was capable of, which gave me and my business an unlimited number of get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way passes.
No, they would keep their end of the deal, but if they crossed me… if they fucking crossed me, all I would have to do was make one phone call and all hell would break loose.
Thirty-two
My mouth dropped open when I saw blond hair.
"Surprise. What? You thought Luke brilliantly crafted all of this? Think a-fucking-gain." Jesse stared at me with so much hate in her eyes I thought I might die. Before I could say a word, she pushed Luke away and came at me. With both hands wrapped firmly around my neck, Jesse slammed my body powerfully into the wall. I tried to push her away, but she kept coming back for more. The rumble in her throat, the vengeance in her eyes, and the animosity in her grasp… I knew who was in charge of my kidnapping, and it wasn't Luke.
The minions entered and broke Jesse off of me. They jerked me by my arms and bound my hands behind my back. They pushed me to the bed and secured me to the metal bed frame with handcuffs. Jesse pulled a gag from her back pocket and forced it into my mouth.
"Now," she said. "It's time we clear up a few of your stupid little misconceptions. I've been watching you since Finnley met you in the Bellagio. I'm always watching him."
My eyes narrowed on her.
"Then when he first mentioned you working for The Elite, I knew you were fucking trouble. I wanted you out of Vegas. I slashed your tire so you wouldn't have transportation. I staged a cab driver to bring you wherever you wanted to go so I could keep tabs on you. I tried to have you drugged, but you couldn't handle it and almost died. I wanted your virginity stripped so Finn would stop his stupid fucking obsession, but that didn't fucking work either. Why is that, Jennifer? Why do you keep slipping through my fingers? This time, you won't. It was only a matter of time before I took you. You're fucking naive."
She pulled a knife from a sheath on her leg and inspected it with a smile. The crazy bitch then straddled me with the knife in her hand, and I knew at any moment she would stab me in my chest, in my heart, and watch me bleed out on the dirty mattress. The sharpness of the blade skimmed my face as she leaned over close to my face and whispered, "I want to fucking kill you. I want to watch your life leave your eyes." She wrapped my hair around her fist and jerked my head forward. "For ruining what Finnley and I would have had. You know, he fired me because of you. Because you couldn't fucking handle seeing me with him. Sexual harassment. What the hell? I was fired for sexual harassment, and you know, this is payback."
My heart pounded so hard in my chest that my ears rang. Jesse continued to pull my hair tight in her hand and wrapped it twice around her fist.
"We would have fallen in love. We would have gotten married, had kids, started a life together, and lived happily ever after. I had a plan to make him want me. Make him want me. But your skank ass arrived and took that from me. You are responsible for him pulling away from me. For that, you will pay for the rest of your sorry fucking life, which won't be very long."
She sawed on my hair with the sharp blade. I tried to move, tried to stop her, but I couldn't. I let out a muffled scream, but she just smiled. A sociopath stared back at me. As she laughed, Jesse placed the point on my chin and pushed. The stinging sensation didn't matter, because soon after, she licked my blood from the blade as she stared at me. Shock overcame me when I saw my blood on her tongue. My eyes widened. Jesse moved inches from my throat, watching my pulse speed up with that frightening smile on her face. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn't slit my throat.
"Stop it," Luke said. "Jesse. Stop."
She kept on, ignoring that he ever spoke.
"Stop," Luke said again, then came to the bed and pulled Jesse off of me.
When she stood, she used every bit of strength her small frame had and pushed him in the chest. "Don't you fucking touch me." She sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. With a flip of a switch, she was in control again.
"But you're right. You want to fuck her while she is alive, and we made a deal after all. Tomorrow, then. You'll do it tomorrow."
He nodded his head, and she placed the knife back in its sheath, which was wrapped securely around her leg. While they whispered to one another, Jesse randomly snarled and pointed at me.
I couldn't believe this was happening. Jesse was a crazy bitch. I knew she hated me, tried to sabotage me, threatened me, and wanted me fired, but this? This was an odd concoction of psychotic mixed with unbelievable. I had been shoved into the twilight zone, a place where Jesse and Luke worked together against me.
My heartbeat hammered in my neck, chest, eyes, ears, throughout my whole body. If snipers could lower their pulse when shooting by slowing their breathing, then I could gain just a sliver of control. Right?
When I looked over at them again, Jesse's arms were around Luke's neck, he tightly grabbed her waist, and they were kissing. She ran her fingers through his hair and drew him in closer to her.
Yeah, that thing called control, totally not fucking happening.
When he pulled away, Luke looked at me with no feeling, then looked away. I pushed out heavy breaths as my anxiety increased to an unhealthy level. I needed to grasp a piece of reality.
"Tomorrow then? You'll take her virgini
ty, then Finnley will no longer want her, and we can move forward with the second half of what was agreed upon," Jesse said.
"Tomorrow," he agreed.
Luke knew I was no longer a virgin. He knew that Finnley had taken it, several times mind you, so what was this? While we walked the streets of London together, Luke had talked about Finnley fucking me when I wanted him to. It was no secret to him. This was a mind fuck of a game. Maybe this was the only way for him to get the last fuck before she killed me? I had too many unanswered questions. Control.
"I'll kill her before it's all said and done. She's already dead to me," Jesse said, then stormed out the door with her minions close behind her. Luke watched her leave then looked down at me. I looked into those eyes that I had once adored, and I saw nothing.
"She will kill you," he said. My nostrils flared as he spoke. He bent over the bed and whispered in my ear, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to save your fucking life."
Luke removed the gag from my mouth and then exited.
The two of us were at a stalemate.
FINNLEY
Thirty-three
She drowned in honey-like water, but I couldn’t save her. The harder I swam, the faster her body drifted away from me. I screamed but nothing came out. A gesture lost in the wind. When I moved forward, she moved further way. The nightmare where Jennifer died, and I was left helpless, had me waking in a panic for the past three nights. Each time she left me a different way. Each time I was left alone.
Since she's been gone, the fear of her dying haunted me.
I couldn’t keep on like this.
Worried.
Frustrated.
Angry.
The threads that held me together would eventually break.
After I left the bar last night, I made the phone call to London anyway. Fuck playing by the rules. I made them. I didn't plan on becoming a follower now or ever. One should stay two steps in front of his enemy, but I always stayed three. If anyone was prepared for what lay ahead, I would be. Fuck with me, and I would pounce with vengeance. Fuck with things I've claimed as mine and prepare for the wrath of a dangerous piece of me that has been locked away for a decade. I've never killed, but I would do whatever was necessary. No one should test that.
