by Gemma James
“Me hating you…I find that hard to believe.” I lifted my leg and rolled her out from under me, onto her side, then stretched beside her on my back. I draped her over my body, not thinking, only acting on instinct as I embraced her, my fingers moving in slow circles down her spine. She caged me between her knees, and my dick nestled at the opening of her sex, fully erect and begging for entrance.
“Rafe,” she whispered, letting out a strangled moan.
Our captors could burst through that door at any moment, and I was sick for wanting to fuck her like this.
While being held captive.
While the remnants of Brock’s cane still sent unbearable amounts of pain through her system.
She couldn’t move without sucking air through her teeth. I only knew this because I heard her trying to hide it every time she shifted. I feared they’d do it again, that they were giving her time to heal so they could inflict more damage.
It’s what I’d do…if I were a psychotic bastard.
Fuck. My cock grew even harder. I didn’t want her to suffer…I didn’t…but my body responded in a shameful, disgusting way at the thought of being the one on the other end of the cane. I’d never hurt her the way he had, but I wanted to make her cry. The urge intensified the longer we were locked in this dark hole together. Denying it was useless, but maybe if we poked and prodded at my memories, I’d understand it better.
Bury your head in the sand some more, Mason.
The dark tendencies had always been there, but something had made me snap, had propelled me to act on them. I wanted to remember what that something was.
She moaned again, face nudging the side of my neck. Rolling her hips, she slid her mound up and down my length in sensual madness.
“Fuck, Alex.” I twisted my head and nipped her lips, nudged her chin until she turned and bared her ear. My breath wafted over the delicate skin beneath her earlobe, and I whirled my tongue, savoring the salt of her flesh. The urge to bite became overpowering. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. My mouth had a mind of its own, and I sank my teeth in with a groan.
She pulled at my hair with frantic fingers, and my traitorous hips jutted up to meet hers. “Don’t stop talking. What happened next?”
“You left me in there for a few days. You fed me”—her wet center teased my tip, and she gasped—“gave me a bucket to piss in. That was a dick thing to do, by the way.”
“What other dick things did I do?” I tried not to think of how close my dick was to pushing inside her.
“You cooked breakfast for me, let me take a shower. Made me eat off the floor.”
“I fucking what?”
“I knocked my plate off the table, so you made me eat off the floor.”
I’d been a mean sonofabitch, and I didn’t know how she could relive that while grinding on me, her pussy slick over my shaft. Fucking teasing. She could easily impale herself on me, but instinctively, I knew what she was waiting for.
She wanted me to force her cunt onto my cock. I grasped her hips and almost pushed her downward. She’d fit me like a glove. I knew she would. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I’d already been inside her. How could I forget something like that?
“Later that night, you fucked me.”
I groaned at the mental picture of her helpless beneath me, skin doused in sweat, her body shuddering. “Tell me when you were most scared.”
“When you made me tell you about Zach…or maybe the night I almost drowned in the river. Both were pretty fucking terrifying, Rafe.”
I stiffened all the way to my toes. “Talking about the past is a bad idea.” I pushed against her, but she only held on tighter.
“You’re scared you’ll remember.”
“I want to remember.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
I sighed. “Both, maybe. Going there will open something that can’t be closed. Whether it’s my memories or a lunatic who’ll do worse damage—”
“You can never do worse,” she interrupted.
“What was our first time like? Did I hurt you? Did I make you cry?”
“You’re right. Let’s not do this.” Her voice wavered, telling me all I needed to know, yet I couldn’t stop picking at the scab of our history together.
“I did, didn’t I?”
“You were angry.” But I heard the pain behind those words. Our first time still haunted her, ached somewhere so deep, she’d never forget it existed.
“You didn’t deserve that. There’s wrong, then there’s wrong. I don’t need to recall those missing years to know I crossed a line.”
“Then uncross it,” she whispered. “Fuck me like it’s our first time.”
I groaned, but before I could protest, she slid down my chest, her dainty palms warm on my skin, and the cool metal of her leash followed suit. Her hair brushed my abs, her breath a tempting blast of heat on the tip of my cock.
“Don’t,” I told her.
“Why not?”
“Not the time or place.”
“We might not get another time or place. This might be it.” She paused. “Or is there another reason you’re holding back?”
Good fucking question.
I was kidding myself by not answering. She was too willing. Something about this room, about the suffocating blindness, drove me crazy. I tamped down the urge to force her onto her back, but my mind sprinted ahead. I imagined straddling her chest, my weight pressing her to the mattress, one hand fisting her tiny wrists as I shoved my cock deep into her mouth. Her eyes would pop open, her lips stretching as they wrapped tightly around my shaft.
Struggling to breathe, I bucked her off. That hadn’t been a fantasy, but a memory. I’d forced my cock between her lips in my room back on the island. The one that was undoubtedly turned to ashes now.
“What’d I do wrong?” The tremor in her voice sliced me deep, but it also sent a rush of blood straight to my cock. How could I hurt so much at the pain in her voice, yet want to force tears from her eyes all the same? I licked my lips, craving the salt of sorrow.
“It’s not you.”
“What is it, then?” She shifted on the bed, and her chain rattled through the darkness.
I became obsessed with that thing. It would be the perfect way to restrain her to my bed, the band of metal around her throat a constant reminder of my power over her.
Perfect…if I weren’t also trapped inside this dungeon with her.
Fuck. What the hell was wrong with me? This room, the welts on her body, that chain…all of it poked at my own personal Pandora’s box.
That chain…
Holy fuck. We had a weapon in here. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner? I scrambled off the bed and wrapped a loose fist around the chain, following it to the hook in the floor. Reaching out, I slid my fingers down the smooth surface of the door, roughly two feet away.
Those assholes would come back, and when they did, I’d tangle them up in their own leash before they had the chance to drug me again. I prayed to God I could get my hands around their throats and apply enough pressure to subdue them. I’d fucking kill them if I had to. It’d be risky, especially if they were packing heat, but if I could get ahold of a gun…
We were out of options. I’d searched every inch of this room by touch, had spent hours listening, hoping to find something that would give me a clue. We weren’t getting out of this damn dirt hole unless we tried.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice small. Timid. Hurt.
Rejected.
“I want to fuck you, sweetheart. Believe me, I do. But I just had an idea.”
“An idea?” Disbelief dripped from her tone.
I had a lot of ideas tumbling though my chaotic mind, most of them deranged and dirty and involving her at my mercy. None of them involved being in this place and at the mercy of others.
I tightened my fist around the chain. “Yeah. An idea.”
9. ESCAPE TO NOWHERE
&n
bsp; Alex
The persistent thump thump thump of my fists on the door blasted my ears. I was surprised everyone in the place wasn’t screaming at me to quiet down. But having someone yell at me and possibly bark threats would be a step up from them outright ignoring me.
“Can anyone hear me?” I shouted again. I’d been wailing on that door for several minutes, though it felt closer to an hour. Faltering, I drew in a deep breath and listened carefully for the hint of footsteps, the jingle of keys. I couldn’t see a thing, but I knew Rafe waited nearby, chain held tightly in his hands, ready to trip up whoever opened that door.
First, I had to lure them into the room.
“Please!” I cried again. “I need some help in here!”
Footsteps sounded on the other side. I bolted away, the darkness whirling around me, and sat in what I hoped was the middle of the room so Rafe would have enough slack in the chain. The welts on my ass burned, but there was no time to change position. Someone pushed a key into the lock, and I held my breath, trying to calm my trembling limbs. This had to work. God, please, let this work.
The door burst open, and someone stood in the entrance, their tall build a silhouette against the bright backdrop of the tunnel. “Whaddya bitching for?” His beam tore through the blackness and lit me up like a spotlight.
“I’m bleeding,” I said, leaning back on my elbows and spreading my thighs. “I need a tampon.” I bit my lip, which probably came across as coy to him, but I was really trying to mask my fear. This plan was screwed if I couldn’t get him into the room.
The guy took a step inside and shone the light between my legs. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
I spread my legs further, hoping to keep his attention. “Can I get a tampon? Please?”
He took another step toward me, the beam of his flashlight casting over the bed, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“I asked you a question, bitch. Where’s the guy?”
“On the shitter.”
He swerved the light to the other end of the room, where the unoccupied bucket sat, and let out a curse under his breath.
Rafe’s shadow moved from behind the door, and he flung the chain over the guy’s head, bringing him down with a bone-jarring thud. The flashlight dropped to the ground and went out. I fisted my hands as the pull of the chain on my neck tightened. A scuffle broke out, and grunts and groans ensued. A bundle of shadows wrestled.
“Rafe?” What would I do if he didn’t answer? What would I do if this didn’t work? What had we done? They could kill him. This was stupid. So stupid.
“Rafe!” I said in a loud whisper.
One of the shadows rose and yanked on the chain, propelling me across the ground. I grabbed at it with ineffectual hands, barely rising to my feet, and dug my toes into the dirt. Fear constricted my throat with each step forward. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders, and that’s when I recognized the heavy breathing. Rafe’s breathing.
I slumped against him, close to losing it, and his arms wound around me for a moment.
“Gotta get moving, baby.” He let me go, and a few seconds later, the flashlight switched on. He aimed it at the prone form of the guy who’d opened the door. He didn’t look like he was waking up any time soon.
“If he doesn’t have a key for that thing…” Rafe said, shining the beam at the choker around my neck. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here.” He bent and patted down the guy’s body, paying special attention to his pockets, and withdrew a set of keys.
I shuffled my feet, my pulse skittering too fast, as Rafe started his way through the bundle. “Hurry.”
“Just breathe,” he said on his fourth or fifth try. “We’re getting out of this fucking room, I promise.” He pushed in another key and turned it, and this time, the chain fell free of the choker.
Rafe grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”
“You didn’t find a gun on him?”
“No.”
Stepping into the hall was blinding. After spending days in total darkness, the light seared my eyes. I glanced up and down the tunnel, in disbelief that it was actually empty. Clinging to Rafe’s hand, I followed him down the passage toward the office, acutely aware that we were naked, and that at any given moment someone could discover us and send our hope for survival crashing through the ground.
“Maybe we should go the other way,” I whispered, a tremor taking my voice hostage.
“The office is this way. I’m hoping to find a gun in that room.” His fingers flexed around mine.
We approached the last door just as another opened somewhere down the tunnel. I held my breath as Rafe tried the knob and turned it without resistance. We scurried inside, and the flashlight lit up the office in weak illumination. Rafe made a beeline for the interior steel door Lucas had come through on my first night here.
“There’s a fucking keypad.” He leaned his forehead against the steel with a loud sigh. “Fuck!” He turned, and I felt the weight of his stare through the darkness. “How well did you know Lucas? Any guesses at the code?”
Biting my lip, my gaze veered toward the ceiling, trying to remember anything of significance. “His birthday is October twenty-eighth.”
“What about the year?” He turned back to the keypad and punched in some numbers. “I doubt he’d use his birthdate though.”
“He was born in 1969.”
“Of course the bastard was. Fuck, Alex. He’s old enough to be your father.”
“I was desperate and…stupid.” Shaking my head, I rounded the desk and began pulling drawers open. “Shine that thing over here.”
He joined me and aimed the light into the drawers, but they were mostly empty, only housing stray pens, paper, and sticky notes. The filing cabinets underneath the poster-sized photos of the blonde were locked with no key in sight. Even the desk’s surface was free of clutter. No phone, no computer, not even a letter opener we could use as a weapon.
This room was a shell of an office. A sham, much like its owner. No wonder the door hadn’t been locked. The paintings, the shelves with art and antiques, the humongous desk—they were all props to give off an intimidating vibe to whoever set foot in this room.
Rafe met my eyes, and even in the dim light, I detected the heart-wrenching defeat in them. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to tell me that he was losing hope, giving in to the bleakness of our situation.
“Okay,” he said, backing away from the desk. He turned around and aimed the light at the shelves. “The guy I took down will wake up soon, we can’t call out for help, and there’s Jack shit in here to use as a…
He swerved the beam, stopping on the whips, paddles, and restraints. As he shot across the space, I headed in the direction of the heavy-looking vase on the other shelf.
It didn’t weigh as much as I’d hoped, but it was better than nothing. Or was it? I eyed the bulky ceramic piece and wondered how much strength it would take to knock someone out with it.
Rafe pulled out a set of handcuffs with a sigh. “How long would you guess the tunnel is?”
“Long, at least thirty minutes to reach this end.”
“Damn,” he said with a sigh.
“There’s nothing but forest out there, Rafe. We walked quite a ways before entering the tunnel.”
“We’ll worry about out there once we get out there.”
But his tone wasn’t one of hope. He didn’t think our chances of reaching the other end were good, and if this door was anything to go by, we’d probably find another keypad at the other exit too.
“Can we fight our way out of here?” I asked. “What about the other hostages? Maybe we can free them and fight our way out as a group.”
“We don’t know how many there are, or the extent of their injuries.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to leave anyone behind, but you’re my only concern right now. I’m getting you out, then we can get help for the rest.”
We both glanced toward the door. First, we needed to make it down that tunnel.
Rafe took the vase from my shaking hands and placed it on the shelf. “I can do more damage with the flashlight. Hold on to these though,” he said, holding the cuffs out to me. “They might come in handy.”
I nodded with a hard swallow, and we both sent a longing look at the door with the damn keypad blocking our escape.
“Stay close, baby.”
“Always.”
He reached for the knob, but the quiet thump of footsteps echoed from the tunnel, growing louder, closer, and Rafe switched off the flashlight. His fingers folded around mine, and he pushed me behind him as we moved to the side.
The door opened, and I held my breath, my pulse throbbing in my ears. A stream of light flooded the space between the door and the jamb, and a slim, shadowy figure filled the entrance. A hand reached out and flipped on the overhead light.
Rafe launched at the guy with the speed of a rattler, the flashlight cracking against the other man’s skull in three swift strikes. He wrestled him into a choke hold, the muscles in his arm bulging as he applied pressure to the guy’s throat. They slammed into the wall, and the flashlight dropped to the floor.
Jax stormed inside, his dark eyes swerving between Rafe and me, then he yanked me in front of him and pressed a gun to my head. The handcuffs slipped from my trembling fingers and clattered to the ground.
10. IMPASSE
Rafe
“Dude, let him go.” Jax pressed the barrel to Alex’s temple with a steady hand, but the lines around his eyes hinted at his reluctance. “C’mon, man. Don’t do anything stupid.”
I tightened my hold on the guy who’d found us. He was a puny little thing, probably not even old enough to drink a fucking beer, and I wondered what the hell he was doing in a place like this. He flailed in my arms, but I refused to give an inch. Just a little more pressure and the guy would sink to the floor, out cold.
Jax wrenched Alex’s head back and placed the barrel under her chin. “Don’t make me do this. Let him go.”
The longer I stared at Jax, at the gun he threatened Alex with, the more I wanted to squeeze the life out of this guy.
