Golden Binds

by Roberts, Laylah

  “A few hours of discomfort, and she would have talked. Now, I’m going to have to get nasty.”

  Garret shared an alarmed look with Joe. He didn’t think Sawyer would actually harm the small female. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t. But there were other sorts of harm he could inflict beside physical pain.

  He smacked at Sawyer’s hand as he reached for a piece of fried potato. “That’s not for you.”

  “Ow. Fuck. Watch what you’re doing with that thing!” Sawyer glared at him. Then his gaze turned thoughtful as he stared down at the spatula.

  “What?” Garret asked, feeling alarmed.

  “That spatula is giving me an idea on how to get our prisoner to talk.”

  “You’re going to smack her hand with it until she talks?” Joe looked appalled.

  “Not her hand.”

  “No,” Joseph said firmly.

  “What?” Sawyer frowned at him. “What do you mean, no? Security is my job.”

  “Yes, but taking care of all of us is mine.”

  “I thought your job was to keep us from running wild,” Garret said.

  “I thought it was to make us bucket loads of money,” Sawyer added.

  “I have a lot of jobs,” Joseph said. “But I’m the oldest. I lead. And I protect this family.”

  Sawyer opened his mouth to protest.

  “I know you’re in charge of security, but what do you think will happen if I let you hurt this girl? How the hell is that going to sit on our consciences? And what happens if someone finds out?”

  “No one’s going to find out,” Sawyer scoffed. “And she’s the enemy. You don’t feel bad over what you do to the enemy.”

  Both Garret and Joe stared at Sawyer.

  “Oh, don’t you give me that look,” Sawyer said with disgust.

  “What look?” Garret asked.

  “Like you’re wondering how many men in white coats you need to cart me away. Oh, and by the way. It’s a lot. I’m not fucking crazy.”

  “Really? ’Cause you’re kind of acting like we’re in the middle of a war and that girl down there is a POW you captured.” Joe ran his hand down his face, looking tired.

  “She is.”

  “She’s a girl. She’s not even that old. How do you know she’s not just a kid that lost her way?” Joseph asked.

  Garret didn’t like her being called a kid. If she was a kid, she was too young for the things he imagined doing to her. For the things they’d already done.

  “She’s not that young.”

  Joe shot him a look as if to tell him to get on track. Right. Because they didn’t want Sawyer going crazy and thinking torture was the answer.

  “She got lost and didn’t notice any of the signs warning her away? That sort of thinking is why I’m in charge of our safety,” Sawyer said. “For fucks sake. I’m not losing it. I’m not going to torture the girl. When have you ever known me to harm a female?”

  “First time for everything,” Garret said cautiously. “And you were eyeing the spatula like it held all the answers.”

  “I figured I’d take that in and threaten to whip her ass with it until she comes clean. Hand it over.” He reached for the spatula. Garret pulled it back.

  “And if she doesn’t fall for your bluff?” he asked.

  He stilled. “Who said it was a bluff?”

  “You can’t beat her ass with a spatula, Sawyer.” A tick had developed beneath Joe’s eye.

  “A spanking never hurt anyone.”

  “What the hell?” Garret asked. “Of course they fucking hurt.”

  Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Not permanently. The biggest wound will be to her pride. I wasn’t going to hit her hard. Besides, the two of you didn’t have a problem with me spanking her yesterday.”

  Yeah, but that had been different. For some reason, it had been kind of sexy. That ass of hers was a work of art. And it looked even sexier blushing red.

  “I’m going to have a go at getting her to talk,” Garret told him as he finished putting the food onto a plate. He held the spatula tightly in his hand, thinking he might have to hide the damn thing.

  “What? By feeding her? You really think that will work?” Sawyer gave him a disparaging look.

  “Well, not like the two of you have had any better luck. And let’s face it, out of the three of us I’ve always had a way with the ladies. You scare them, and Joseph bores them.”

  He left the room quickly before one of his brothers decided to use that damn spatula on him.

  4

  She was hungry. She had to pee. And she was starting to think she wasn’t getting out of here anytime soon. They really did intend to keep her here until she told them who she was. What the hell was she going to do? She couldn’t tell them the truth.

  So, lie.

  Well, now, why hadn’t she thought of that last night?

  She just needed a good excuse for being here. Something believable. She was mulling over her options when the door opened, and Mr. Hottie walked in.

  She sat up. She’d curled herself up into the blanket that Mr. GQ had bought her last night and was lying on her side in the corner. Maybe the mattress would have been comfier but it smelled bad and the origin of those stains worried her.

  Her stomach grumbled as the scent of food hit her.

  “Rise and shine it’s breakfast time,” he called out.

  “Jesus, don’t tell me you’re a morning person,” she grumbled.

  His grin widened. How could he be so damn happy? Oh, that’s right, he wasn’t the one sitting in a cell, dressed in someone else’s sweats with just a bucket for company. Speaking of that . . .

  “I have to pee.”

  For a moment, he looked nonplussed, then he sighed. He walked over to a wall and pulled at a brick. The wall suddenly shifted away. And, lo and behold, there was a freaking bathroom. Toilet, sink, and shower. It wasn’t all that clean. Or pleasant smelling. But there was a toilet.

  She rushed into the secret bathroom then realized he’d moved into the opening between the two rooms and was watching her.

  “Go away.”

  “I can see you aren’t a morning person,” he said, but he stepped back, away from the door.

  Oh, God, she was so pleased to see that toilet she nearly kissed it. She refrained since she’d probably catch some nasty disease from it, but it sure beat the damn bucket.

  She washed up and returned to find Mr. Hottie had set a plate down next to where she’d been sleeping.

  “I can’t believe that was there all along.”

  He shrugged. “Guess Sawyer thought you’d talk quicker if you had to pee in a bucket.”

  “Sawyer is a crackpot.”

  He grinned. “It’s been suggested we have him tested a few times.”

  She shook her head. How was it she felt like smiling? She shouldn’t feel happy to see this guy. Did she have Stockholm syndrome already?

  “Sit. Eat. I made it myself.”

  “How do I know it’s not poisoned.”

  His eyes widened innocently, as though he hadn’t thought of that. But she saw the twinkle in their brown depths. Did this guy ever take anything seriously?

  “I guess I’ll just have to taste test it all, won’t I?”

  He took the wrapper off the paper plate.

  “Plastic fork and a paper plate? Let me guess, you guys don’t like washing dishes.”

  “I know better than to give you access to a possible weapon.”

  “You are giving me way too much credit if you think I could use a fork as a weapon.”

  Oh, God, that smelled good. She felt her resolve to refuse fading. She could hardly make a getaway if she was weak with hunger, right? And even though she had a feeling this food came with an agenda, right then she didn’t care. It had been a long time since that sandwich and Twinkie. She wondered if Mr. GQ had told the others he’d fed her.

  “Your brother was here last night.”

  He nodded and forked up some scrabbled egg, putting
it into his mouth and hummed. “Joseph? I know. See? No poison. Now sit.”

  She sat. Then cursed herself for obeying him. She should have stood up on principle. Right, and should she starve herself on principle too?

  Oh, fuck, when it came down to it, she wasn’t really that principled.

  She attempted to grab the fork from him. “Uh-uh.” He pulled the fork back.

  She folded her arms across her chest. Betrayal filled her. He’d played her. Trying to act like a nice guy, and she’d fallen for it. What was he planning on doing now? Eating the food in front of her?

  He forked up some more egg and then held it to her lips. She stared at him in amazement.

  “Open up,” he coaxed.

  She didn’t move.

  “Do you want me to make choo-choo noises? I suppose I can. Kind of ruins the sexy vibe we have going on here, though.”

  “There is no sexy vibe going on.”

  He grinned. “No. You sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure your nipples were hard when you were pressed against me yesterday. And those little noises you made when I was kissing you were delicious.”

  “I was faking it.”

  He laughed. “Honey, I’m a lot older than you and more experienced. I can tell when someone’s faking it.”

  “You’re not that much older than me.” She knew he was a lot more experienced though. And he was right, damn him. She’d been turned on by everything he’d done to her.

  “And, baby, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes ever since I came in here.”

  “Have not!” Had she? She looked him over. She bet he had washboard abs under that shirt.

  “You’re doing it right now.”

  “Am not.” Oh, she so was. Fuck. Maybe he had a hairy ass. Or a small diddle. Or was missing one ball.

  “I’m not sure I like that look on your face right now.”

  “How’s the head?” She needed to get this conversation away from her possible undressing of him and onto something else. Anything else.

  “It’s fine. I’m a fast healer.”

  “Hard-headed you mean.”

  “That too.”

  Did nothing rattle him?

  “Come on now, your food is getting cold,” he coaxed.

  “You are not feeding me. I’m not a child.”

  “Believe me, honey. I know that.” He gave her an admiring look. What was wrong with him? She’d broken into his house, whacked him over the head with a frying pan, she was dressed in his brother’s old sweats, she hadn’t showered or brushed her teeth, and he was looking at her like she was something he wanted to inhale.

  “Come on, you know you need to eat.”

  “Give me the fork.”

  He sighed. “You’re a very obstinate female.” He grabbed the plate. “I guess I’ll just take this to Sawyer. He’ll enjoy it.”

  “Wait.” She didn’t know if it was because she was hungry or because she didn’t want Wild Man getting her food or that she was just lonely, but she wasn’t about to let him leave. “Fine.”

  He gave her a happy smile and flopped back down. Surprisingly he didn’t spill any of the food. How did he do that? She shook her head. He scooped up some egg and held it to her lips.

  Damn this was humiliating. She opened her mouth and took the forkful of food. Or it should have been humiliating. It certainly shouldn’t have felt intimate or arousing.

  Nope. It definitely shouldn’t have been either of those things. And yet, as he slowly fed her, she felt her body warming once more. There was something wrong with her. She’d never felt so immediately attracted to a man as she was to Mr. Hottie. And then there was Mr. GQ. Joseph. Yeah, that name suited him. Her attraction to him was different though. Slower to build. But it was there.

  Thank God, she didn’t feel anything like that towards Sawyer. She shuddered.

  Mr. Hottie crumpled the empty plate and fork together. “Want to tell me what that thought was about?”

  “Nope.”

  He raised one eyebrow but didn’t push. That was a change. Settling back against the wall, he crossed his ankles over each other. Looking as relaxed and comfortable as though he were sitting on the sofa in front of the TV.

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  “Nope.”

  “Really? Shouldn’t you be off corrupting virgins and seducing married women?”

  He barked out a laugh. Not the reaction she’d been expecting. “Don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you? Not to damage my image or anything, but I tend to steer clear of virgins and married women.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because in my experience virgins tend to expect some sort of commitment. Taking someone’s virginity is almost like a promise. It’s a responsibility I can do without.”

  “God forbid you take responsibility for something.”

  That got her a reaction. He looked almost angry for a moment then he shook his head. “Exactly, honey. I don’t like responsibility. Means I have to take life seriously. I try to avoid doing that.”

  She snorted. “I would never have guessed.”

  “That’s what I have Joe for. He takes life seriously enough for the two of us.”

  “And Sawyer?”

  “Sawyer is Sawyer.”

  “Crazy.” She figured if she knew a bit more about them, she might be able to figure out how to get out of this fucked-up situation she found herself in. She was starting to think this brother was the soft touch. The weak spot. But she knew she shouldn’t underestimate him. Joseph, for all his stiff ways, had been the first one to weaken and bring her some clothes.

  “Maybe a bit. But he’s had some shit go down that has made him . . . uh . . .”

  “Paranoid? Bat shit crazy? Scary as fuck?”

  He grinned. “He’d like that you find him scary.”

  “And that’s exactly what I’m talking about. That’s not normal.”

  Except, it kind of was for her. Her brother inspired fear in pretty much everyone he met. She’d grown used to that reaction. And some of it had worn off on her. Not that anyone was afraid of her. They’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to fear her. But they were scared of what she might tell Carlin. Of making her an enemy and having him come after them. It made for a lonely life when everyone around you feared you.

  Hmm, she wondered if he ever got lonely stuck in this big castle with just his two brothers.

  “It is for Sawyer.” He shrugged. “Probably shouldn’t tell you this but Sawyer isn’t a terrible guy. If cares about you, you’ll never have someone more loyal or protective on your side.”

  “But he’s not on my side, is he? He’s the enemy.”

  “He wouldn’t be the enemy if you told him who you are.”

  “What makes you think that? If he found out who I am, he might just kill me.”

  Mr. Hottie’s eyes widened. Shit. Why did she say that? “Really? And just who are you?”

  “Nobody. I’m nobody important.” She bit her lip. Was it time to dive into her lie? She’d concocted it while he was feeding her, which hadn’t been that easy since she kept getting distracted by his eyes.

  It was embarrassing how attracted to him she was.

  “That so? Well, then, Miss Unimportant, how come you seem to think Sawyer might kill you?”

  “Cause he’s a psycho?”

  He just watched her. She let out a breath, feigning reluctance. “Look, I’ll tell you who I am. But you have to promise to let me go.”

  “Tell me who you are, and I’ll discuss it with my brothers.” There was a cagey look on his face. Maybe not the pushover she’d first thought.

  “I’m a reporter, all right?”

  “A reporter, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you broke in here to get a story about what?”

  “About you and your brothers, of course.”

  “Right.”

  “Three reclusive, handsome guys living in a castle. Women lap that sort of stuff up.” Oh,
God, was he buying this crap? Too late to turn back now.

  “Is that so?” His voice had grown cold. That look of perpetual amusement had faded.

  She shrugged. “Yep. The story was going to help me with my career. Truth is, I’ve been stuck doing crappy little stories. I needed something bigger.”

  “I fail to see how we are a big story. There’s nothing interesting about the three of us.”

  “I guess I was hoping to dig something up.”

  “By breaking into our house?”

  “First of all, this isn’t a house. My whole apartment would fit into your living room.”

  “Which one? We have ten.”

  “Exactly. How many people can say they have ten living rooms?”

  “Somehow I don’t see that as being much of a story.” There was a hint of disdain in his voice.

  “Well, it’s not. But, like I said, I was hoping to find something. So, you see, I’m not dangerous.”

  “No.” He stood. The humor had bled from his face. “You’re not dangerous. Just a parasite and a liar.”

  He stormed out of the room, and she stared after him in shock. “Well, that went well.”

  She guessed he’d fallen for her lie. Problem was, she wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t in a worse position than she’d been in before.

  * * *

  He stormed into the security room where Joe and Sawyer were waiting.

  “She’s a fucking reporter.” He paced up and down the room, fury racing through him. He’d been attracted to her! A fucking bloodsucker.

  “No, she’s not,” Sawyer said calmly.

  “You heard her, right?” He waved his hand at the TV screen. She was sitting on the floor with her legs drawn up to her chest once more. She looked lost. Innocent. Scared. An act. It was all an act. And he’d fallen for it.

  “I can’t believe I fell for her little miss innocent act. Fucking reporter. And to think I fucking cooked for her.”

  He’d actually wanted to help her, rescue her. He’d imagined some sob story. She was homeless and hungry. She couldn’t read so she hadn’t known what the signs said, or she’d been so desperate she’d managed to get past all the traps and signs and make her way inside. He’d imagined taking her into his arms and telling her it was all going to be all right. That he’d take care of her.