Beautiful Torture

by C. P. Mandara

  "I'm getting you in trouble, girly. That's what I'm doing." Stepping out of the cell carefully, I close the door once more and place my lock picks back inside my jeans pocket.

  "You're sick, you know that?" Harper whispers. Her eyes dart around the scene of devastation, her mouth still open in shock. I decide I like her mouth like that, and oh boy do I have plans for it.

  I shrug my shoulders. "I'm actually doing you a favour. You don't want to be here, and I don't want you here. This is going to be one of the quickest ways to get rid of you. Once Brandt gives you to me, and he watches me fuck you, you'll be gone so fast your ass won't even touch the door on the way out. You should be thanking me, really." I nod, deep in thought, imagining all the things I'm going to do to her in a few minutes' time, and the list is long and mouth-watering.

  "You are one fucked-up son of a bitch. He'll never believe you." Harper's voice is small and unconvinced, though. She knows exactly how this looks, and the likelihood of Brandt believing her is small, especially as he's already pissed with her. I have just royally screwed her over, and she knows it. The outside door chooses that moment to slam and I can hear Brandt call Harper's name, and then mine. We both stay silent, staring at each other.

  "Brandt will believe every word I say, and you know it," I purr. "Brace yourself, Harper, because I'm going to press your head to the fucking floor and make you eat your breakfast off it, and not only is Brandt going to approve, he's going to sit there and watch while cheering me on. I have to confess I'm quite excited about the prospect." I lean back against the cell bars and begin humming happily.

  "You bastard!" she screams, playing right into my hands. The mattress then goes flying as the naked hellcat rushes at me, wrapping her fingers around my throat.

  Chapter 11 - Brandt

  I've done no more than a kilometre before I realise I haven't fed Harper this morning. Shit. I was so mad with her I completely forgot. That can't happen again. The last thing I need is for her to get sick, and she will if she doesn't start eating properly. I also need to give her another birth control pill. That's especially important if Gabriel's swanning about the place. While I don't think he'll touch her while I'm out running, I don't trust him any further than I can throw him. If I was sensible I'd get rid of him, or find somewhere else to stash Harper, but I don't have the necessary funds or the time. I suspect that when I look at my emails later there'll be all sorts of crap from Helena regarding our upcoming nuptials, and that will pose enough problems for the time being.

  Just thinking about Helena makes my blood boil. If I'm not careful I'm going to find myself married with kids and I'll be treated by society at large like a leper for the rest of my life. I think I'd rather be back inside. The kid's not even mine, for crying out loud.

  The next few kilometres get progressively quicker as my temper flares. Why are my parents onboard with this? Why won't they speak to me? I can't see how it's going to damage dad's political career more than it already has. Rumour has it he's set to become mayor shortly, so he can't be doing that badly. I wonder what kind of spin they had to pull to make me disappear. Or has everyone forgotten my existence? Everyone bar Helena and her family, that is.

  My feet pound into the wet grass and mud, chewing up the earth as my trainer's thunder on ahead. It feels good to be out in the fresh air. I still can't get over the fact that I can come outside whenever I want to. It's a novelty you don't take for granted in prison. Hell, just being able to choose what I want to eat or read is amazing, and I am still revelling in my newfound freedom - which makes me wonder what I'm doing with Harper. If I'm not careful I'm going to end up inside again. What I did was incredibly foolish. While it was born of rage and retribution, I didn't think through the consequences very carefully. There is a very good chance I'll end up back inside after this. The only way to be sure that won't happen is to kill Harper and bury the evidence somewhere no one will ever think to look. I already know I can't do that. Gabriel probably could, but I'd never forgive him. I'm not a murderer.

  So, I'm left with a problem. I can't keep her a prisoner for the rest of her life, and I can't let her go. Where do I go with that? All I want is her confession. I just want to know why she did it. There must have been a reason, surely? Hopefully I can lay the past to rest after I get the full story. I've got to let it go. This shit is toxic, and if I'm not careful I'll end up in a worse state than I am already.

  My phone pings during the last kilometre of the run. Pulling it out of my pocket I scan the text message that's just arrived.

  Wedding is scheduled for Saturday, a week from now. Do you want morning dress, tailcoat or tuxedo? Helena X

  I nearly throw my phone through the damn window. Fuck. That is a lot quicker than I was anticipating. In no time at all they're going to want me back in London for fittings, stag parties, and all the other crap that weddings entail. My time is up. I either go down one route or another, and I'd better decide what I'm doing pretty damn quick. My temper, which had receded after my run, now begins to boil once more. I go from wanting to fuck and forget my little captive, back to wanting her severed head on a platter. Jesus.

  I try to remember the last time my life was my own and therein lies the problem. My life was never my own. Even if I had completed college, I would have been forced to follow in the footsteps of my father, and the weight of his expectations would have lied heavily upon me. Perhaps I was always a disappointment to him. Maybe I just didn't realise it back then.

  Pushing the door wide open, trying to clear my head of all the depressing thoughts eating away at me, I listen for signs that anything may be wrong. I've only been gone an hour or so, but a lot can happen in that time - especially when Gabriel is around. I hear nothing. The house is ominously quiet. I frown. Silence isn't always good.

  "Harper," I call. There is no response, but that doesn't surprise me. I didn't exactly leave her on good terms. "Gabriel," I yell. One of them had better come running in a minute or there's going to be trouble.

  I then hear Harper yell, 'You fucking bastard,' at the top of her lungs, and even though I've just run ten kilometres the shot of adrenaline that fires through my body has me sprinting like my feet are on fire.

  "Gabriel if you do anything to her I swear I am going to kill you!" I scream, as I propel myself forward at the speed of light. My lungs are bursting, but I don't care. Fear is bubbling up through my veins, and for a moment I wonder if he's trying to kill her. That would be just like Gabriel. He's good at taking care of problems. He doesn't necessarily do it the right way, but he gets the job done - one way or another. That thought makes me run even faster.

  When I burst into the cellar the scene that greets me is not the one I expect. It is so bizarre, in fact, that I stand there nearly gobsmacked as I take it all in. For a few seconds I do nothing but blink as I try to figure out how my little mouse has just turned into a tiger. What the hell happened here? There is broken shit all over the place, and Harper is currently trying to strangle Gabriel. It would be almost comical if he wasn't about to turn blue. I have no idea what happened, but I'm about to find out.

  "Harper! Let him go. What is going on here?" My words have no effect whatsoever. Harper's face is bright red, and it's clear she's livid. I literally have to pry her fingers off Gabriel's neck, and he rushes forward clutching his throat.

  "She went nuts, man," he wheezes. "That is one crazy lady. I brought her breakfast, and she started throwing things everywhere. I went to ask if she was okay, and she tries to kill me. Last time I ever try to do a good deed. I can tell you now, you're wasting your time with that one. She's a psychopath. She's never going to talk." Gabriel rubs his neck again and shoots daggers back at my prisoner. I still can't quite believe this. It's rare that I've ever see Gabriel at a loss, but it appears someone has finally got the better of him.

  "Harper? What do you have to say for yourself?" My eyes linger on the mountain of mess strewn all over her cell, and I wonder if I'm going mad. She'd better have a good expl
anation or I'm about to lose it.

  Harper just looks at me, before throwing her hands in the air and letting out a little scream. Is that temper? Irritation? Frustration? I have no idea. What I do know is that if I don't get answers soon she's going to be in the doghouse for the foreseeable future.

  "One last chance, Harper," I say, in a dangerously quiet voice. My eyes hold hers, and we stare each other out. I have to admire her spunk. She's stark naked, madder than an Irishman who's been on the Guinness for a week, and totally unconcerned by my threat. That has to change, but I'm going to give her one last change. "What happened, Harper?" My voice is softer now, and has less of an edge. If she's going to talk, this is the voice she'll respond to.

  I wait long, terse seconds for a reply. The urge to put her over my knee and spank the living daylights out of her is strong, but I know she can't take another session just yet, so I curb it. If she wants to play hardball, there are other ways I can get even.

  "Harper," I bite out. I want to shake her, but I daren't. If I lay my hands on the woman I am almost guaranteed to do something stupid.

  She's now staring straight at me, and her face is held in tight, crimped lines. I can see her lip wobble as she appears torn with indecision. The dots are not adding up here, but I can't make sense of anything at the moment. All I want to do is punch something.

  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Do your worst, Brandt. Do your worst." She puts her hands on her waist and gives me evils. After all that has already happened this morning, this is the thing that finally sends me over the edge.

  Spinning around I face Gabriel. "You," I bark. "If I go upstairs and find you've been lying to me your life will not be worth living." Gabriel holds his hands up and the expression he wears appears sincere, but the man is a good actor. This I know from experience.

  "Honestly, Brandt. I haven't done anything. Go check." Harper snorts from her corner of the cell but says nothing. I don't know who to believe. Both of them have lied to me on several occasions, and Harper's even lied under oath. Actually, Gabriel probably has too, but I don't know that for certain.

  "Neither of you move an inch," I hiss, before I shoot back upstairs to try and figure out who's telling me the truth. Honestly, all I want to do is have a shower and put my feet up for half an hour. Is that really too much to ask?

  Stomping back up two flights of stairs, I head to my room where the door is already open. I could have sworn I shut it this morning. My eyes immediately zero in on my computer... which isn't there. What the fuck? Approaching my desk, I notice the remains of my laptop on the floor. The thing is a mess, and the screen has cracked all the way across from one side to the other. I resist the urge to howl in frustration. Did Gabriel do this?

  Meow. My head spins around to find a black cat entering the room, looking for attention. She looks happy enough as she winds her way around my legs, purring. Could she have knocked over my computer? I guess it's possible if she got her legs tangled up in the wire. It seems a little too convenient, though. Closing my eyes tiredly, I run a hand across my forehead and sigh. However this happened, I have no way of knowing the culprit for sure, and now I'm going to need to order a new computer if I want to have any chance of monitoring the comings and goings of the household. Thankfully I still have my phone, so I can arrange it easily enough, but it will take at least a couple of days to get here.

  Stomping back down the stairs in temper, I enter the basement where Harper and Gabriel are staring each other out.

  "Did you fuck up my laptop on purpose?" I stare directly at Gabriel and wait for his response.

  "No man. Why would I do that? I don't go in other people's rooms. That's just weird." There is no blinking, no eyes darting this way or that, and no trembling fingers. This means nothing, of course. Gabriel is more than capable of lying straight to my face.

  I turn to Harper. "This is your very last chance. Either you talk or I'm letting him loose. My patience is wearing thin."

  Harper smiles sadly. "You were always going to do that, Brandt, so let your dog loose. I can handle him." She lifts her head high and doesn't give anything away. Fuck it. I'm past trying to save her. Besides, she's here to be punished. Gabriel was always far more creative than me in that department. Maybe I should let him have a turn. Hell, maybe if I watch her suck his cock I won't want her any more. Then I can just let this thing go and get rid of her.

  "Fine. Gabriel, you can do what you want with her. I'm past caring. First though, she needs to clean that mess up, and then she needs to eat." I press the key to the cell into his hands, not that he needs it, but it should make things easier.

  He nods. "Agreed. Why don't you go take a shower and then meet me down here when we're ready to begin? I think I can safely promise I'll get your pretty little princess to talk by the end of the day." He gives me a wolfish grin, which tells me he's going to enjoy this. I'm not sure I am. I have a bad feeling he's orchestrated this whole mess, and I'm going to end up with egg on my face. I also don't know if I can bear to see him ripping into Harper. Good God, the woman put me in jail; I should hate her. But that's easier said than done. Mind you, after this little episode that might be taken care of.

  Taking a deep breath, I resign myself to letting things play out down here. Harper can stop this anytime she wants. All she has to do is start talking. She knows that. Maybe having another man's cock down her throat will encourage her to play nicely for a change. Who knows? Somewhere though, at the back of my mind, I know things aren't going to be that easy. Things are going to get worse before they get better, and I'm probably going to regret this.

  To make matters worse, my phone chooses that moment to ping again. Ripping it out of my pocket, it's to find another text from my darling betrothed.

  If you don't answer me, I'll choose your outfit for you.

  There's an angry face next to the text. Fuck you, Helena. Like I don't have enough problems at the moment. Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I swear.

  However I look at things, I'm running out of time. If there's one thing I want before I run away from the hellhole my life has recently become, it's the truth. After five years of hard time, I need that in order to get on with the rest of my life.

  Harper Wilkinson will talk whether she wants to or not. With Gabriel in charge, there is no other option. She has no idea what she's just let herself in for, but I'm damned if I'll feel sorry for her.

  Chapter 12 - Gabriel

  "Happy?" Harper spits at me, after Brandt's footsteps have long since receded.

  As it happens, I am, and I don't see why I shouldn't mention the fact. "Yep. That went pretty well, in my opinion. I'm curious, though. Why didn't you at least try to sell your side of the story?" While Brandt might not have believed her, it would have at least been worth a try. Why isn't she trying to save her own skin? I can't work this woman out.

  "There's no point. We were always heading this way, and I've learnt not to beg the hard way." Harper is no longer concerned about her nakedness. She's facing me from just behind the bars, and I can see everything. I guess she figures there's no point now. I'm about to get an eyeful of the goodies in a few minutes' time, and I'm quite looking forward to tapping it, too.

  "You haven't won." Harper gives me a look and shakes her head. It would almost be intimidating, if she weren't stark naked and standing behind reinforced steel bars.

  "Oh, contraire, sweetheart. I think I have." My voice is a touch unpleasant, with a whole lot of sarcasm thrown in.

  She has the cheek to raise her eyebrows at me. "He'll figure it out soon enough, and then he'll kick your sorry ass all the way back to where it came from." Turning her back towards me, she walks to the bed. I've already decided we're not having sex on that because it looks far too uncomfortable. I'll either bend her over or fuck her up against the wall.

  "Oh, and how's he going to do that, sweetheart?" I keep my voice low, just in case he's within earshot, even though we'd hear him if he were anywhere nearby.

 
; "I don't know, but he will. He's not stupid."

  "Well, that was a pointless, empty threat," I say, with mock horror. "Consider me duly warned. Now I believe you have some cleaning duties to attend to before I get in there and show you who's boss. I'd better get you a brush and dustpan, and a couple of bin bags so you can clear up all that mess you've made, hadn't I?" My grin is wicked as her face darkens. My bad? There's nothing I like better than fucking a girl - or bloke for that matter - who's raging mad. There's something about angry sex that turns me the fuck on. Brandt's well aware of this, of course, but Harper isn't. I'm going to have some fun with the girl.

  In response Harper sticks two fingers up at me, presses them to her lips, and then blows me a kiss. We're going to get on splendidly - I just know it.

  Five minutes later I'm back with all the cleaning supplies a girl could ever hope for. Opening the cell door with the key Brandt left me, I dump them all on the floor before closing and locking it once more. No way is this girl pulling one over on me again. This time she's going to do as she's told and take her punishment like the good little whore she is.

  Harper is unamused by my antics, as expected, and looks at me with disgust. Like I give a fuck.