Golden Binds

by Roberts, Laylah

  Joe sighed and looked pained. “What did he do now?”

  “He turned my alarms off! Again!” Sawyer threw his arms into the air. “What good is a fucking state-of-the-art security system if he’s just going to turn the fucking thing off whenever the fuck he feels like it.”

  Joe grimaced. “Do you think you could tone the swearing down a bit? And you don’t need to yell, I’m right here.”

  “No, I can’t tone it down. I don’t know how you can act so calmly!”

  “He just got back from town. I’m sure he would have turned them back on.”

  “He’s a fucking security risk.”

  “Come on, Sawyer. How likely is it that someone is going to sneak in here while the security system is down for a few hours? No one has ever made it past those traps you set, so I’m thinking those odds are pretty low, right?”

  “Not the point. This is the last time. He’s a thoughtless, immature little dipshit.”

  “Well, yes, but he’s also your brother.”

  “I don’t fucking care.” He turned and stormed out the door. “He’s a dead man walking.” He strode towards the kitchen. Even though the alarms had all been turned off, the cameras had still been running. He’d tracked Garret down to the kitchens as of ten minutes ago. He strode in, Joe hard on his heels, trying his best to talk Sawyer out of inflicting bodily harm. But it was time Garret grew up and faced the consequences of his actions.

  “Garret! Garret!” he boomed.

  “Jesus, Sawyer, I think they heard you in Oldstown.” Joe winced.

  Sawyer rolled his eyes. Joe was turning into an old man. A boring, conservative old man. He guessed, at least, Garret made life interesting. Still, that wasn’t enough for Sawyer to want to keep him around.

  “Garret!”

  He strode into the pantry and came to a stop. Garret lay on his back on the floor, his arms sprawled out at his sides. Sawyer’s world screeched to a halt, his breath leaving him in a whoosh.

  He’d failed him. Failed them. He hadn’t kept them safe.

  Joe pushed around him. “Sawyer! Get out of the way.”

  Sawyer stumbled to Garret’s other side as Joe knelt and felt for a pulse. “He’s still alive. There doesn’t look to be any blood.” He slapped Garret’s cheek. “Garret! Wake up!”

  Sawyer looked around, assessing the situation. He spotted the pan lying on the ground. “Looks like he could have been knocked over the head with that.”

  “What?” Joe looked over at the pan then at him. His eyes were wide. A little wild. They’d both become complacent, Joe and Garret. They thought nothing could touch them here. But Sawyer knew better.

  “You think an intruder did this to him?”

  Sawyer gave him an incredulous look as Garret groaned. An alarm sounded, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Someone just triggered the alarm in the south wing.” He stood. “I’ll get the bastard who did this.”

  “Sawyer! Wait! Wait!”

  2

  She was in so much trouble. She could barely think through the fear clouding her mind. After leaving Mr. Hottie lying unconscious on the floor, she’d taken off without thought. Well, she’d had one thought, get the hell out of there. But she’d taken off in a different direction than she’d come, finding herself in a completely new wing of the castle.

  Why did they need two hundred rooms and forty-two fireplaces? Okay, that was probably an exaggeration, but by the time she’d run into ten different rooms searching for a window that opened, it had felt that way.

  And why did none of the windows open? They seemed to be all sealed shut. Surely that was a damn fire risk? Finally, she found one that would budge. But only a few inches.

  “Come on, you stupid, motherfucking window. Open.” She had no idea how long that jerk would be out for, but she did know she didn’t want to be here when he woke up.

  No, he was not going to be happy with her.

  “Going somewhere?”

  She froze. The window wasn’t really open enough for her to slip out. But she was almost prepared to give it a go.

  “Come on, now. Surely, you’re not in such a rush that you have to leave via the window. Let me show you the door.”

  Yeah, right, like she was going to fall for that offer. She wasn’t stupid.

  She turned and froze at the sight that greeted her. She’d thought she was going to find Mr. Hottie standing behind her. But, now that she thought about it, that hadn’t been his voice. This voice was deeper and had a harsher quality. Almost as though the owner wasn’t used to talking that much. And looking at him now, she could well believe it.

  His hair was pulled back from his face in a ponytail so she couldn’t tell exactly how long it was, only that it had to be past his shoulders. He had more facial hair than Mr. Hottie. But he looked like him. The same hair color and a similar build. Maybe a little taller and broader through the shoulders. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and a green tattoo weaved its way down his arm and over his hand. She found herself slightly mesmerized by that tattoo. Maybe it was just easier than looking into his terrifying face.

  He stepped forward, and she moved away. Away from the window. Shit. That wasn’t her best move.

  “I must admit when the alarm went off, I wasn’t expecting to find you, little rabbit.”

  Little rabbit?

  She frowned and looked up into his face. Oh, God. Mistake. Big mistake. He might look a little like the guy in the kitchen in appearance, but this man’s eyes were cold, calculating, and scary as fuck.

  She swallowed so loudly she knew he could hear.

  “Who sent you, little rabbit? Hmm? What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

  Jesus. This guy was a freaking lunatic.

  She moved along the wall. She didn’t know where she was going, she just knew she had to get away from him, there were no handy pans around for her to grab this time.

  “I’m the new cook.”

  He paused for a minute. “The new cook?”

  What was she thinking? Why had she said that? But what else could she say? That she’d broken in looking for gold? Oh, and, by the way, she’d also knocked out a guy and left him on the pantry floor.

  “We didn’t hire a cook.”

  This came from a new voice. She glanced over to the doorway as a man dressed in a white shirt and dark pants stepped into the room. Unlike the wild man, this man was impeccable. Neatly shaven, his hair cut and styled, his pants ironed with a straight seam. He could have stepped out of some fancy magazine.

  And he had his arm around a dazed-looking Mr. Hottie, supporting him as they both walked into the living room.

  “That’s her,” Mr. Hottie said with a groan of pain. “That’s the bitch who knocked me over the head with the pan.”

  She was snapped out of her silence by that bitch comment. “You had me pinned to the wall with your head between my breasts!” He deserved everything he got.

  “For fucks sake,” Wild Man said in disgust.

  “It’s called foreplay. I thought she was into it.”

  Truth was, she had been. Until he’d threatened to burn her dad’s sweater. It was kind of humiliating that was the reason she’d stopped things. Not her finest moment.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here? Who sent you here? Is there anyone with you?” The questions came firing out of Wild Man’s mouth.

  She just stared at him, her mouth slightly open. What to tell them? What to answer first? Wait, no. She couldn’t answer any of them. If she answered any of their questions it could get back to her brother.

  Sure, these guys had a fucking big castle, but, from the state it was in, she was guessing they were low on funds. What if they decided to ransom her? Would Carlin even pay for her freedom? Or thank his lucky stars she was no longer his problem?

  She wasn’t entirely sure.

  Everyone knew who Carlin was. She couldn’t drag him into this. It would get bloody. Fast.

  And for some idiotic reason she didn’t want
these guys to die. She already felt kind of bad for knocking Mr. Hottie unconscious.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not telling you a fucking thing.”

  Wild Man smiled. It wasn’t pretty.

  “Oh, you will. You definitely will.”

  Fear filled her at his words. That’s what she’d later blame her inattention on. Because she didn’t even have time to scream before he struck. Two big leaps and he tackled her. She slammed into the hard floor—would it kill them to invest in some carpet—the wind completely knocked out of her as her teeth crunched together, biting down hard on her tongue.

  Oh, fuck.

  Dazed, she struggled to take in a breath, panic filling her. Rough hands pulled at her clothing. Oh, God, they were going to rape her.

  Shit. Fuck.

  Maybe it would be a blessing if she passed out from lack of oxygen before that happened. Then she gasped. Air entered her lungs. Adrenaline spiked then disappeared in a rush, leaving her feeling bruised, broken. And naked.

  She gaped at herself then over at the wild man who threw her jeans to one side.

  He’d fucking stripped her while she’d been fighting for breath, thinking she was going to die. Now he stood over her, staring down at her semi-naked state. At least he’d left her panties and bra on. And he didn’t seem interested in taking off his own clothes. That had to be a positive, right?

  You’re nearly naked, Gigi. None of that is a positive.

  “You cocksucking asshole,” she croaked. “Give me back my fucking clothes.”

  He grinned again. Oh, she really wished he’d stopped doing that. It was a damn scary sight.

  “No.”

  Fear flooded her. Was he going to use rape to get her to talk?

  Terror made her shake, and he narrowed his gaze, reaching for her. She struck. She wasn’t going down without a fight. She wasn’t going to just let him hurt her. She wished to God she’d made her brother teach her self-defense now.

  She slammed her fist into his face, and he rocked back a step. More out of shock, she was guessing, than because she’d managed to hurt him. She stood and turned, ready to race out of the room, then slammed into Mr. GQ.

  Reaching out, he grasped hold of her arms, holding her steady. She looked into those calm, fathomless eyes and knew she was toast.

  “You’re going nowhere,” he told her.

  She drew back her foot and then slammed her knee up, driving it into his balls.

  His eyes popped open, and his face grew white. Then he let out a low, pained groan before slumping to the floor. Holy shit. It worked.

  She didn’t have time to wonder at her good luck. She took a step back then turned once more towards the door. She could do this. Suddenly she found herself in the air. She was slammed down on a wide shoulder, her breath leaving her in a whoosh.

  “Let me fucking go!”

  She slammed her fists down on Wild Man’s back. She kicked her legs, wiggling. An arm was placed over the back of her thighs and then a hand landed firmly on her ass.

  “Settle down,” Wild Man growled.

  What? Was he fucking kidding her? She whacked her fists down on his back, letting out a scream of epic proportions. He smacked her ass again. And again. He was relentless, showing her no mercy. Soon her ass was burning. The sting morphing to a deep heat.

  Her cheeks burned with humiliation. Even worse, she caught sight of Mr. Hottie out of the corner of her eye where he lay slumped on the sofa, an ice pack held to the back of his head. And he was smiling.

  Jerk. Bastard.

  She was going to kill them all.

  Gradually, the fight went out of her, exhaustion flooding her. The hand landed against her ass several more times, and she felt tears drip down her face.

  “Are you done?” A deep voice asked her.

  She sniffled.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes.” He started walking, but she kept her head down, her hair flowed around her, giving her the illusion of privacy.

  Yeah, she was done. For now.

  * * *

  She glared around the small, barren cell she’d been shoved inside a few hours ago. At the time, she’d been so humiliated she hadn’t taken much notice of her surroundings. She couldn’t believe that asshole had spanked her. Carlin, for all his violent tendencies towards other people, had never once laid a hand on her. And neither had her parents.

  What gave that jerkwad the right to spank her? She couldn’t even sit because her ass was too sore. Not that there was anywhere to sit. The only things in the room were a bucket and a disgusting, stained mattress that she wouldn’t touch for all the gold in the castle.

  It was fucking cold down there. Her teeth chattered. She rubbed her hands along her arms as she paced up and down the tiny cell. There was no window. The only light came from one crackling florescent bulb on the ceiling, which barely lit the room. The door was made of thick steel and locked.

  She paused in her pacing to stare down at the bucket in disgust. Seriously. This was inhumane. Even Carlin treated his prisoners better. Not that he kept many, unless they were being used for ransom. Mainly he just shot them.

  Yeah, she knew she sounded callous about the whole thing. But he didn’t go after innocents. Oldstown was a rough place to live. It was basically divided into two areas. There was Carlin’s territory and the piece of the city the Gio family ran. They had an uneasy truce. Still, if any of Gio’s men were caught on Carlin’s territory, they were fair game. And vice versa.

  Just because she’d lived with this all her life didn’t mean she liked it. Hence the reason she needed funds. To get out. And, yes, the irony of committing a crime in order to get away from a life of crime wasn’t lost on her. But theft was a small crime. It wasn’t like she was taking from someone worse off than herself. At least she hadn’t thought so until she’d found her way into the castle. It was obvious these guys didn’t have a lot. And she’d had no intention of hurting anyone.

  She chose to ignore the fact she’d knocked one man unconscious and pushed the other one’s balls up into his throat. Guilt filled her. Then she looked at that damn bucket again. And the rage returned.

  “I am not fucking peeing in a bucket!” she yelled at the walls. “Do you hear me? Someone better get me to a toilet soon because that is not fucking happening!”

  Nothing.

  “You can’t keep me locked up here. People will come searching for me. I have a lot of friends.”

  She had exactly one friend. And he was a rat.

  But they didn’t know that. She figured they were just trying to scare her. They wanted her to crack and tell them who she was. That had to be it.

  Shit. She was so screwed. When her brother found out she was gone he was going to go insane. Thankfully, he probably wouldn’t notice until tomorrow. She didn’t usually eat with him, and no one kept tabs on her.

  And she’d be out of here by tomorrow, right?

  She’d better be, or she was going to make those jerks pay. Somehow.

  * * *

  “I cannot believe you took her clothes.” Joseph scowled at his middle brother.

  Sawyer paced up and down the room, which was the security center of the whole castle. From here he could see every area of the castle, including the dungeon room he’d stuck the female inside. He’d set up this whole system, the alarms, the cameras, and the booby-traps outside.

  How had one tiny, clueless female circumnavigated them all?

  Well, he knew the reason she’d gotten past the alarm. He glared over at Garret who lay on the couch Sawyer often ended up sleeping on rather than going back to his bed.

  “You shouldn’t have turned off the alarms.”

  Garret held a bag of ice to the back of his head. Joe was sitting in the only other chair, a bag of ice clasped to his balls. Sawyer grimaced. She might be small, but she’d put a lot of power into that kick.

  “I wanted to go out for a while,” Garret commented, looking over at the monitors. “And I
didn’t want you hassling me about it. I only switched them off for a few hours, how was I to know someone would get through all those traps you’d laid in the forest? Do you think she had help?”

  “That’s what I’m going to figure out,” Sawyer said in a low voice. This was a challenge, and he never backed down from a challenge.

  “I still don’t think you should have stripped her naked,” Joe grumbled.

  “She’s not naked,” Sawyer pointed out.

  “More’s the pity,” Garret added in a sad voice.

  Sawyer whacked him on the head.

  “Ow! Fuck! What was that for?” Garret made a grab for the ice pack as he sat up with a wince. “My head hurts, man.”

  “Just trying to smack some sense back into you. Everything is about sex with you.”

  “Well, the two of you might be happy living celibate lives, but I have needs.”

  Sawyer looked over at Joe, who grimaced. Truth was, Sawyer was pretty sick of having only his hand to keep him company at night. The more years that passed, the closer the beast that lived inside him drew to the surface.

  And the beast wanted its mate. It wanted to be free. There were times when he wondered if that was a good idea. He didn’t know about his brothers, but his beast only had three things on its mind—sex, food, and the hunt.

  Sawyer wondered just how much control he’d have if the beast ever emerged. The older he grew, the more the beast made itself known. Garret was several years younger than he was, and he seemed to feel the same surge from the animal. Joe did. In fact, Joe had to be in a worse state than Sawyer, but he didn’t show it.

  But, then, Sawyer often wondered if Joe’s OCD was a way of controlling not just everything around him, but the havoc being wrecked inside of him as well.

  “And your needs include ogling our half-naked prisoner?” Joe asked in a low voice.

  Garret grimaced at the reprimand. “All right, that’s a step too far. She’s damn hot, though.”