Nodding, I held the camera up to my eye and closed the other, focusing on a pool of light hitting the snow in front of me. I snapped away at nothing in particular, getting the hang of the camera. Braiden began to walk on and I followed, taking pictures of this and that. As we strolled in companionable silence, it occurred to me that Braiden must be responsible for the photos in his house and office. I loved those photos. They were all black and white, some of them were candid shots of people, some of landscapes capturing the natural beauty of the world.
“You’re very talented,” I whispered, but I wasn’t sure if Braiden heard me.
Finally he glanced back at me over his shoulder. “My mom took pictures. She gave me my first camera when I was twelve, and I picked it up pretty quickly. When I look through a lens, everything else disappears. The most ordinary things can become extraordinary through a camera. A piece of bark on a tree.” As if to prove his point, he found a fir where sap had leaked onto the bark. It was caught in a ray of light that caused it to glisten. He snapped a picture then showed me it through the view finder. It looked simply beautiful. “Snow.” He wandered over to a small bush whose leaves were heavily laden with snow. Once again, the light spilled into the forest causing the snow to sparkle. “It costs nothing to take pictures and you can do it anywhere in the world. A picture can mean so much to someone. It can carry beauty, happiness, sorrow. For me it’s peaceful.” He took a few pictures of the glistening snow from slightly different angles and again showed me the results through the view finder. My lips parted to express how beautiful they were, but all that came out was a small gasp of astonishment. “I take photos to help me relax. I thought you might find it helpful, too.”
Shocked into silence, I looked down at the camera in my hands as Braiden continued to wander through the trees, stopping to snap the occasional photo before moving on. Rather than focus on the beauty around me, I found myself watching Braiden. Then without much thought to what I was doing, I raised my camera and took a picture of him. His focus was on the tree tops above. If he noticed me trying to inconspicuously line him up through my lens, he didn’t say anything.
“I lost Jonas in Peru. My sources indicated he had traveled from Colombia across the border to Ecuador then into Peru, but when I got there he had vanished. I was less than twenty-four hours behind him and he was just...gone.” I froze in place at the mention of Jonas, caught between an irrational sense of fear that his name would alert him, and a little surprised that Braiden was confiding in me. “My stepfather is Alexander Toporov. His business endeavors are somewhat illegal. He has money and power, which gives him the ability to reach further than your average law enforcement agency, but even he can’t pick up a cold trail.”
“What does your stepfather do?” I found myself whispering. I didn’t expect Braiden to tell me, but I asked anyway. All I could picture was another Jonas Levier, and if that was the case, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him having a part in this ordeal.
“He’s an arms dealer.” Braiden turned to look at me. “It would be best if you didn’t mention Alexander’s involvement in all this if you speak to the FBI again. It could possibly make things a little more complicated for us.”
For some absurd reason, the thought of a man dealing guns didn’t fill me with the dread I probably should have felt. Perhaps in my own personal experiences guns weren’t a part of my world of pain and humiliation. People could do just as much damage without a gun in their hand.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Braiden seemed a little shocked that I had so easily acquiesced to his request without argument. To be honest, I didn’t have much faith in the lawful apprehension of Jonas anyway. He had gotten away with modern day slavery, abduction and trafficking of women for so long, I doubted anyone could destroy him. Braiden though, he might actually have a chance. The cold predatory look in his eyes at the mention of Jonas made me shiver.
“The FBI’s involvement drove him into hiding. I told them I didn’t want to talk, but they told me I would be arrested if I didn’t assist them.”
Braiden’s gaze was full of unrestrained anger. “I know, Larz told me. I don’t know how the FBI found out about you. The facility you went to was very expensive because they are renowned for their respect for privacy.” At the mention of the psychiatric facility I had been housed in for four months I looked away. It was a reminder of his abandonment of me. “Leaving you like I did was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, Em, and I’ve done some pretty difficult things in my life. I had to try and make you safe. I had to try and find him.” I could see the honesty in his eyes, but that day I curled myself on the floor of Rebecca’s house and sobbed under the pressure of disappointment and fear, was burned into my memory. “And I needed you to see you didn’t need a man like me, you needed to be free. You’re doing well, and you’re stronger now.”
I raised a brow and snorted. “I’ve just gotten better at hiding it. In reality I’m drowning,” I confessed.
Braiden watched me curiously, his head tilted slightly in careful thought. “Explain.”
His words held that dominant edge that men like Braiden possessed. He wasn’t ordering me but he couldn’t help the gentle command his words carried.
I rubbed my head in an attempt to relieve the ache behind my eyes. “It’s...hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
Gah! His arrogant authority would have made me insane if I didn’t believe I was already there.
“I have nightmares, every night.”
“Larz said they were few and far between now.”
I sighed. “No, every time I close my eyes to sleep I have them. I’ve just got better at controlling the wild banshee screaming that used to wake me from them. The shrinks taught me how to stop myself from succumbing to flashbacks, and I spend so much time centering and focusing myself in an effort not to slip into a horrible memory, I feel constantly exhausted. So, I just want to sleep, but then I have nightmares. It’s like a jarring ride that I can’t get off.” I didn’t dare look up at Braiden. Instead I focused on a particularly thick tree trunk in the distance, took a deep breath and kept talking. For some reason I found it easy to confide in him. Somewhere in the fucked up recesses in my mind, I knew it was because he was dominant. It was like falling effortlessly back into an old habit. “I see what Charlie and B have, how Jax and Ella are together, and I want that so bad it physically hurts.” I was rubbing my chest in an effort to alleviate the invisible ache that lived within. “The thought of what they have scares me to death though, that kind of trust, I don’t know if I can ever do that.”
“You will have that, Em, one day, when you’re ready.”
His words barely registered as I continued, I was on a roll now, there was no point in stopping. “Then I have these other wants, these desires. Things were done to me that I found pleasure in, and the thought of experiencing them again, makes me crazy.” My laugh was without humor. “That’s how you know when you are truly broken and beyond help. When the humiliation you experienced turns you on rather than makes you sick. The doctors say it was my body’s natural response to erotic stimulation, that I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. They don’t know I still want it though. If I told them that they would lock me up and throw away the fucking key.” Braiden had moved closer, so close he could reach out and touch me if he wished. Why would he though, he already threw me away once, I was an inconvenience then and now I was being an emotional sissy. “He broke me, so now I need to break him,” I admitted. “I need to have that because I won’t ever have what Rebecca has. I won’t have normal.”
Braiden’s hand rose to my face but he hesitated and pulled away. “Normal is overrated.” He sighed.
We stood there like that for the longest time. Me trying hard not to cry, Braiden trying hard not to comfort me.
“If we do this, if I help you take him out, you must obey me. Not as your master but as your superior. This is my hunt but I will let you have the kill. The moment you argue or
disobey me, I send you home. Understand?” He didn’t even bother to try and hide the command in his voice this time. A small part of me found immeasurable relief in his authority. Another part of me was flat-out shocked he was offering me the opportunity to kill Jonas.
“I understand,” I said eagerly, not wanting to pass up an opportunity for retribution.
“I can give you that, Em, I can give you your revenge, but you’re going to have to learn to trust me, and I know that it’ll be difficult for you. You’ve been hurt by men you put trust in, but I promise I will never hurt you. I will never betray that trust.”
He held my gaze, demanded it, but it was too hard and I turned away. Trust was asking too much. Trust wasn’t something I did anymore. The moment he left me, he had broken the delicate first steps in building my trust in him. A finger under my chin forced my gaze back to his before his hand dropped to his side once more. “I don’t expect you to give it freely; I’ll earn it.”
Searching his eyes I saw nothing but determination. He stood tall and strong before me, not touching, but close enough I should have felt intimidated. I didn’t of course. Braiden wouldn’t hurt me, at least not physically. I accepted that in the first few days I spent with him in Claymont Memorial. Instead of fear, I felt a small spark of desire. That dark awful need that crawled at my skin, the need for contact, for touch. The need to be controlled was an ugly voice inside my head that never really went away. It made me wonder what Braiden would truly think of me if he knew the things I craved. The thought of presenting myself to him, naked and on my knees made my nipples tighten and I was grateful for the thick clothes I was wearing. I grimaced at my body’s response to my thoughts, I was sick, demented. Normal people didn’t want those things, normal girls didn’t go through years of pain, rape and abuse only to continue wanting it once they were free.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Braiden murmured.
Shaking my head in frustration, I murmured, “I wish I could stop wanting the things I want.”
“What is it you want, Em?” I took a small step away, ashamed to admit my needs but needing to tell someone. Someone who might have a chance at understanding them, accepting them. This could go two ways. Braiden could accept my desires with professional courtesy, or he would have me committed, again.
“Things, bad things.” Braiden’s head tilted slightly in curiosity and I continued before he could interrupt and before I could chicken out. “Sex, but not normal sex.” I felt my cheeks heat under the admission, and much to his credit, Braiden’s face remained impassive.
“You enjoy some of the submissive aspects of sex.” I nodded in agreement. “There is nothing wrong with desiring that, Em. In a normal, healthy dominant/submissive relationship, there is no pain unless one of the partners prefers it, and then it is delivered in such a way that it is enjoyable. Gentle restraint, spanking, domination, it can be a highly sensual and pleasurable experience. It’s not about what’s normal because what’s normal for one person may not be for another. After all you have been through, you shouldn’t feel ashamed for trying to take something from that ugly experience and turning it into something beautiful.” I nodded, yet didn’t truly believe I could be so easily forgiven for my sinful thoughts. “Come on, I have to get you out of this snow before those pretty lips turn blue.”
My fingers automatically rose to my familiar frown. The thought of Braiden and my lips sent all sorts of confusing and unfocused feelings through my body. Once upon a time he’d tasted my lips, and that memory was my silent guilty pleasure that I dreamed about when I allowed myself such wistful meanderings. Pulling my hand away at his knowing look, I feigned nonchalance as I followed him back down the path that had led us into the forest oasis. Being in Braiden’s presence made all those dark wants and desires I had been battling hit me full force, and a handsome and wicked face suddenly accompanied those desires. Braiden Montgomery. Admitting I wanted him stung, because I was mad as hell with him, and I didn’t need a man, ever. Emotions were tricky things though, and I had learned they were an unstoppable force. Try as I might, ignoring them would be futile, because at the end of day, as soon as I let my walls down, those darned emotions would still be there. I wanted Braiden and not just on a physical level. I needed him—his dominance and control, his promises, his safety. He had already abandoned me once though, and he was here now offering me a business deal, not romance. He was going to help me kill Jonas Levier, and then we would be done. He’d move on to his next job, and I would somehow try and figure out how to live again.
Chapter 16
BRAIDEN
It had taken every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep my hands to myself. The need to reach out and take Emily into my arms was a force to be reckoned with, but I needed to control myself. She didn’t need a man fawning over her while she fought to heal. Her admission that she wanted to kill Jonas didn’t shock me. Her admission that she longed for submission in an intimate way almost stopped my heart, my dick became instantly hard and tried to burst through the wall of my clothing. God I wanted to be the one to show her that passion, to prove that her needs were nothing to be ashamed of. I wanted to vanquish every memory of the painful and humiliating ways Jonas had touched her body and replace them with pleasure. She wasn’t ready for it though, the conflict in her eyes was unmistakable. Separating what she wanted, what she needed and what she was prepared to accept were battling for recognition in her heart and mind. These were things she needed to be sure of before any man attempted to give it to her.
We were sitting in my office at Montgomery Security; Sam at my computer, Em nervously by my side, and Dillon, Bomber and Gabbie crowded behind us. Bomber had a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at Gabbie, who hid behind her sunglasses, clutching at her coffee as though her life depended on it. They were supposed to have the day off, which would have given Gabbie more time to deal with her hangover, but I had called them in to discuss our next course of action. Emily’s email account had received a hit—it was time to move. Sam tapped away on my keyboard. His fingers moving freakishly fast, and his eyes never left the large screen before him.
“He’s covered his tracks pretty well. I’ve narrowed the origin down to an IP address in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.” Sam looked over his black rimmed glasses and gave me a pointed look. “I don’t think that’s your boy’s usual terrain; I think this is a trail to lead us in the wrong direction.”
“What did the email say?”
Sam clicked away on the keyboard. “’You’ve been a bad little pet, but I’m willing to make an exception this once. There will be a pick up from Collars and Coats, time and date to be advised. And, Pet, you will only get one chance. If you try to cross me, you know what will happen.’”
“What the hell is Collars and Coats?” murmured Bomber.
“Collars and Coats is a store that provides boutique accessories for pets. Rhinestone collars, fancy leashes, dog coats...and hats,” said Sam, his voice laced with humor. He swung the computer screen around to face us. The website for Collars and Coats sat before us with an array of animals wearing ridiculous outfits.
“Poor puppies,” sighed Gabbie from behind me.
“Jonas won’t come for her himself,” Bomber said.
“He’ll send Nate,” Em whispered. We all glanced in her direction and she shrugged. “It’s always Nate. He was my guard from the beginning.”
“I shot him,” I confessed. Emily gave me a curious glance. “I put a bullet in him when I took you from the villa,” I explained further.
“You killed him?” she asked startled.
“I don’t know,” I honestly replied.
He could have died, he could have also lived. I hadn’t bothered to check.
“I hope you killed him, otherwise he’s going to be really pissed off. He didn’t like it very much when I stabbed him in the foot. I can’t imagine what being shot would do for his temper.”
“You stabbed him in the foot?” echoed Dillon.
Emily nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. “In the early days, I fought. I was granted permission to sit at Jonas’ feet one evening for dinner. Nate was being his usual self, making his disregard for my presence known. We have a love hate relationship; we love to hate each other. Nate always inferred I was a liability. That Jonas should only keep his slaves for a short while then properly dispose of them. On this particular evening Nate called me a whore, so I grabbed a knife from the table and stabbed him in the foot.” Emily sighed. “It was absolutely worth a week in the cage.”
Bomber groaned loudly. “What the fuck was the cage?”
I’m pretty sure I didn’t want to know.
“It is what you would expect—a cage—about three feet by three feet. Large enough for an average size woman but small enough that you can’t stand up and can barely sit. Jonas housed his cage in the basement of his home, so there was no light or sound; the sensory deprivation was maddening. You would only receive a slice of bread at morning and night, and a half a glass of water. Even though your body would scream for sustenance and just one chance to stretch your limbs, it was the psychological torture of being locked in a cage that was the real killer.” There was no inflection or emotion in Emily’s voice.
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