Bishop (Endgame Book 3)
Page 20
“Are you injured?” I ran my lips across her features as if I could sense her well-being through her skin. She sighed and put her hands over my chest, teasing my nipples through my shirt. I wanted to step back and examine her closely, studying every inch of her body for the slightest scrape or bruise, but I couldn’t bring myself to separate from her.
“No, they didn’t hurt me.”
Thank God. I swiped my hands across her face endlessly, looking for any sign of trauma. “Josie, I know you didn’t have anyone to hope for the … first time you were taken. But I’m always going to come for you, okay? I will never let anyone harm you like this ever again.”
She kissed my thumb. “I can rescue myself.” She sounded a little pouty.
I ducked down to kiss her. She melted into me, and I had to hold her back so I didn’t climb onto her right there. “You don’t have to, Josie. That’s what I’m telling you. You have to believe me, okay?”
A battle raged behind her eyes as she considered my words. She’d been betrayed by her own family on more than one occasion, stolen and used and treated like less than human, though she’d done nothing to deserve it. And even I had used her, betrayed her fragile heart in order to satisfy my own desire. I’d told her over and over that what we had was temporary and nothing more than a consequence of our proximity. Why would she believe me when I told her I cared?
With one hand deep in her hair, I tilted her head back and kissed her with every emotion built up in my body over the past ten hours. The muscles of her slender neck jumped beneath my other hand; her pulse flew from normal to racing in the span of one heartbeat.
“I will come for you.”
“Okay.” She blinked at me, eyes glassy but clearing quickly. “But how are we getting out of here?”
“I’ve got a car waiting down the road. How many of them are there?”
She shook her head. “So far it’s just my sister and one other guy.” She swallowed and looked away. When she met my eyes again, her eyes shone. “Did you know it was my sister?”
I sighed heavily. “Yes, that man we captured told us.”
She bit her lip. “Why is she doing this?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out the minute you’re safe. What can you tell me about the guy?”
“Hang on.” She slipped from my hold, then ran back to the mattress and pulled a wallet out from underneath the pillow. My fingers twitched, reaching for her again the moment she was back within grasping distance. “I’m pretty sure that’s a fake ID, and all the credit cards have different names, but maybe you can figure something out.”
I raised an eyebrow, impressed. She kept her head enough to get this information. “You’ve been busy.”
“I figured if I was going to rescue myself, I better at least make an effort at it.” She closed her hands around my arms again.
“I’m gonna get you out of here, Josie.”
I brought my lips to hers and kissed her gently, trying to get a feel for her again. We had to go; I had to get her to safety, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to remember what she tasted like. The curve of her lips as she opened her mouth and slid her tongue forward. I nipped her gently, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing up onto her toes so I had no choice but to lift her and let her wrap her legs around my waist. I spun and put her back against the door, bracing her while she thrust against me.
“We have to run,” I whispered, but I was undoing my belt and shoving down my boxers, releasing her long enough for her to do the same with her shorts. It was too much, having her here when I’d wondered a few hours ago if I’d ever see her again. I had to feel her, know that she was alive. She was whole. She was mine.
“I thought I was alone,” she said, and her voice cracked.
“Josie.” I let go with one hand to touch her face, run my thumb across her lips. “I’ll always come. Okay? You can write that on your soul.”
I lifted her back up and was inside her with one smooth stroke, driving her into the door at the same time she whimpered.
“You really have to be quiet, baby,” I whispered, then placed my hand against her mouth. I held her head back while I thrust into her, driving her up and into the door with controlled strokes. I was trying my best not to make any noise, but I needed a gag as much as she did. I bit her shoulder instead, teeth digging into her skin through her T-shirt while her fingernails raked my back. My balls tightened too soon, and I released inside her, still thrusting, determined to have her meet me at my climax. But when the pleasure dissipated and my breathing returned to normal, she was still unsatisfied, pussy still holding me tight inside her and begging for release.
“It’s okay,” she breathed. “Let’s just get out of here.”
That wasn’t going to happen. “Lie on the floor,” I commanded. The bed would make too much noise. When she got on her back, I kicked her legs apart and knelt between her, sending my hand to her pussy and stroking her clit as gently as I could manage.
“Keep your legs wide. It’s better that way.”
She did her best to stay quiet, biting her forearm as she arched her back under me, her arousal finally shooting forward onto my own hand. I had to suppress my own groan. The way her face contorted, the response of her entire body to my touch, was enough to make me hard again despite our danger.
She panted, arm over her eyes as I stood and went to the attached bathroom to dry my hand. I came back with a towel to dry her between her legs before I slid her underwear, then her shorts back on. I followed by pulling on my own clothes.
“Can you run?” I asked, lowering myself over her. She moved her arm so she could kiss me.
“I can follow you anywhere.”
It was undoubtedly ill-advised to have sex with my rescuer before we were free from harm, but the look in his eyes when I touched him for the first time told me what I needed to know—he felt it too. We’d been apart for far too long, and any second we waited before joining was spent in agony. And I would have been satisfied if he alone had climaxed, happy to know I had given him release, but when he ordered me onto my back and spread my legs to make room for his fingers, the pleasure in obeying him was almost as good as my orgasm itself.
He gave me less than a moment to recover before helping me shuffle back into my underwear and shorts, and pulling his pants back on.
“Wait,” I said as he pulled me toward the door. I stuck my hand under the mattress and pulled out the card I had used to jimmy open the door and stuck it back into my bra. “Just in case.”
He frowned. He wanted me to believe he would get me out of here without any more problems, and I’d never be locked in this room again, but he was too practical to tell me to put it back. “Let’s go.”
We crept down the hall together, one of his arms back to keep me behind him as if I would slip out in front of him if given enough of a chance. He paused at the top of the stairs and listened intently. I couldn’t hear anything from the first floor.
“I can’t tell where they are,” he whispered so low I could barely hear him. “Wait for me here.”
He walked slowly down the stairs and cast his gaze around the first floor, then beckoned for me to follow him. In a minute, we were through the house and out the door, running through the woods. I couldn’t see a thing, but he held my hand as we ran, guiding me around rocks and divots until he suddenly wrapped me around my waist and pulled me behind a tree.
“What the—?” His hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me.
“There’s someone out there,” he whispered so quietly I could barely hear him, thinking he spoke into my bad ear.
My heart sped faster as I strained my impaired hearing for whatever had tipped him off. And there, in the night, I heard it—the crackle of leaves beneath feet, the snap of a twig, and the sudden silence that followed it as whoever was moving stopped dead.
“Is it Castel?” I whispered.
Archer shook his head; I felt the movement on my shoulder. “Shh.”
r /> We stood still for several minutes; I ticked the seconds by in my head. But there was no further movement that I could hear, and Archer eventually slackened the arm around my waist.
“Move slowly,” he whispered and led me forward. “Do you know where we are?”
“Mount Shasta. We came here once when we were young. How did you figure it out?”
“She sent another picture. You and your sister in front of this cabin.” I knew what photograph he meant. Mom had framed it and hung it in the kitchen. Alicia and me standing in front of the cabin wearing forced smiles on our faces. The moment the shutter clicked, she had shoved me away so hard I fell and cut my palms. I winced at the memory, imagining falling now on my damaged hand.
“I wonder why we came here. Does she own the cabin or something?”
He shook his head. “Castel was trying to figure that out last I spoke to him. He should be here by now.”
He only looked back for a moment, to look at our joined hands and ensure I was right behind him even though he could feel me. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than two seconds to transpire.
But before he could turn back, a form flew out of the darkness to tackle him to the ground. His hand tore from mine.
“Archer!” I screamed, running to where two forms wrestled on the forest floor. I couldn’t tell who was who in the fray—whom to help and whom to hurt. I looked around for my sister or anyone else but didn’t see anyone.
I crouched behind a tree to watch, feeling more useless than ever.
Later, I realized she came from my right side, so I didn’t hear the footsteps. I didn’t even notice the sound of the gun cocking next to my face. I didn’t notice anything until the blow of the gun against the side of my head.
For a second, I was back in New York in broad daylight, bleeding on the steps of the courthouse with a dozen reporters snapping my picture. I didn’t bother to bite back the bile in my throat as I spilled the contents of my stomach onto the concrete, wishing for the longest second that I should just die. I would rather die than live through all this again.
My sister crouched in front of me, her face in shadow despite the sunny day. When she spoke, I was sucked through a black hole back to the forest, lying among the leaves and earth moistened by my own vomit.
“Let’s see how much he really cares about you,” she said, yanking me to my feet. The world spun, and the only thing keeping me upright was my sister holding me aloft. My shoulder screamed, ready to give way. The sounds of the scuffle stopped as she yelled into the dark. “Do you want me to shoot her in the head, or do you want to come with us back to the house?”
I blinked and forced myself to focus. Archer was on his knees in the dirt, arm wrapped around the neck of my sister’s accomplice.
Alicia spoke again. “Do you think this bullet will take? Maybe we’ll get to see what’s on the inside of her pretty little skull.”
“It’s okay,” I said, resigned to my fate. “You can go. Don’t worry about me.” But before the words were even fully out of my mouth, Archer let the man go, and promptly doubled over thanks to an elbow in his stomach. The accomplice stood, then drove his boot into the side of Archer’s face. I screamed.
“Don’t hurt him,” I begged. “He just wanted to help me. Please.” The world was going dark again. It was too much. This scene was too familiar. Girls my age or younger being kicked to death in front of me. So bruised their eyes were mere slits, and so bloody I couldn’t tell the color of their skin. I didn’t want Archer to be another death for me to witness. I should have let him leave when he wanted, never should have begged him to come to California with me. I clawed at the hand holding my arm, but my fingers were jelly. “Just let him go. I won’t disobey you anymore.” My mouth tasted like copper.
“I know you won’t,” the man said and kicked my hero again. Who was going to come for us now?
“Come on, little sister.” Alicia’s voice barely reached me. I was shaking so hard my teeth chattered; I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep forever, anything to avoid feeling this way for a second longer. “We have a lot to talk about.”
*
When I woke it was to the sound of skin on skin, the hard slap of a hand on a cheek. I tried to move but couldn’t do more than wiggle, not with my wrists and ankles bound. I was lying on my side, and I could see someone sitting in a chair across the room. My fingers tingled from the blood loss; I wondered how badly the bonds would set back my healing.
I was on a thin mattress, the chain around my ankle binding me to the wall too heavy not to notice. In the corner, I saw a bucket. There was no sink, no window. Just a door at the far end of the room with a light over it that cast everything in a green tint.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
I screamed as I turned to look behind me, noticing the man in the chair for the first time. He reached out to grab my arm and yank me to him as I scrambled to put distance between us.
He might have been handsome in another situation—at a bar or meeting for coffee—but the stench of alcohol on his breath made my empty stomach roil. How long had it been since I’d eaten? I didn’t even know what day it was.
“Where am I?” The words came out as a croak. No water, either.
He smiled a little and traced my lips with his free hand. I snapped at his fingers. His smile transformed to a deep grimace, and then his hand flew across my face. I’d never actually been slapped before, but over the next few months, the sound would become all too familiar.
“You try that again, and I’ll take a few of your teeth as punishment. Do you understand?” He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. He squeezed my jaw so tight I couldn’t swallow; spit dribbled out from between my cheeks. His smile returned. “You’ll look even more beautiful with a cock in your mouth while you do that.” He kissed me rudely while every muscle in my body froze. Better to take the abuse than fight. Two decades of living with Alicia had taught me that.
He threw me on my stomach onto the mattress, one hand on the center of my back as he fumbled with his pants. And then he came for mine.
My heart kicked at the memories of my last few seconds before passing out, the fear of repeating my past mistakes and not having anyone around to save me. But it was all overridden by an unrivaled fear—where was Archer?
As if on cue, the voices became clear. “You need to loosen her hands. She’ll damage her fingers otherwise.” Archer’s voice sounded thick; he spit, and a moment later, a wad of red appeared on the wooden floor just within my sight. I shifted my eyes to the left and saw his boots, bound to the legs of a metal folding chair with the same zip ties that held me still.
Alicia sighed. “Marcus, figure something out.”
The man who had driven us here—Marcus, I supposed, certainly not the name on his driver’s license—came over and snipped the zip tie holding my hands. I sighed as the blood returned to my fingers, forcing myself to clench my fists through the pain.
“Thank you,” I whispered, but he grabbed me a moment later and pushed me back against the wall, shackling my feet with yet another zip tie to a radiator.
“Keep quiet, or I’ll gag you too,” he growled before rejoining my sister across the room.
“How did you find us?” she demanded. Archer laughed.
“That last photograph you sent her. I recognized the mountain.”
“Shit. Does anyone else know we’re here?”
“They’re on their way now. They’ll be here in less than six hours,” he sneered, but my sister looked relieved. My heart sank. Six hours? That was more than enough time for them to do whatever they wanted with us and get far, far away.
Which reminded me …
“What do you want, Alicia? For the love of God, please just tell me. I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
She turned back to me, looking as if she’d forgotten I was there.
“What do I want? Let’s see.”
She stalked over and crouched down in f
ront of me, crowding me back into the wall. “Mom got sick while you were off living the dream somewhere, and I stayed home to take care of her.”
“I was kidnapped, Alicia. Literally living as a sex slave. You were the one who barely noticed I was gone.” She waved that away as if she didn’t believe me, causing me to gape. “You didn’t think I had really been kidnapped, did you? You thought I was making it up or I just ran off.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.” Some of her spittle landed on my face. “You were always trying to get attention, always trying to win her over to your side.”
“Because you tortured me! I lived in fear every day of what you were going to do next.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You were always such a drama queen. But that’s not the point of this story. The point is, Mom left all her life insurance to you. You, who weren’t even there. I was the one who paid all her bills, but apparently, she didn’t give a shit about that.”
I was stunned into silence. Why would she give me money?
Because she knew. She knew all along what Alicia was doing to me, and she didn’t stand up for me. I’d ignore the way she looked away whenever she saw Alicia teasing or torturing me, tricking myself into thinking she hadn’t noticed. But she did, and she didn’t say anything. Maybe she had been afraid of Alicia too, somehow.
Alicia was still talking. “… so you’re going to sign over all the money to me, and we’ll go on our merry way. You never have to see me again.”
I shook my head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me, Alicia? This is completely absurd. You know I wouldn’t have tried to punish you.” And it was true. My forgiving nature was what had made me so appealing to those men who liked to have their way. She could have said a few nice words to me, and I would have agreed with her wholeheartedly and signed over any amount of money she wanted. Even the entire amount. “How much is it?”
She glowered. “Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”