A solitary tear wells up in my left eye, but I blink it back. It’s the frustration at being helpless. I hate it. I really, really hate it.
Adie studies my face, watching my level of anxiety build with interest.
“That seems to be your favorite word at the moment. You should learn to kick back and relax a little. Live in the moment. You never know, you might even have some fun.” He then swipes the wet tissue gently across my folds, from front to back, cleaning me up. In total, he uses four wipes until he’s satisfied that he’s done a reasonable job. By that time, I am consumed with humiliation and horribly aroused. He then uses several more to clean up the surrounding area.
Standing up, Adrien walks over to place the used tissues in the bucket. When he’s finished, he sits back down beside me, and checks the veins in my arms, running his thumbnail softly down my skin.
“Did you want that orgasm first, or are you going to be a good girl and sit very still while I insert this?” Holding up a cannula, he waves it in front of my face, awaiting my response.
“I’ll be good,” I whisper. “I’ll sit still.” There’s no real point in fighting him. He’ll still be able to get it inside me if I struggle, it’ll just hurt more.
“Well, that is good news,” he says softly, tapping my arm gently. Another couple of seconds go by in silence, before I feel a sharp scratch. It barely registers on my pain scale, but my mood darkens, nonetheless. If Adrien wants to kill me, all he has to do is squirt a few cc’s of something nasty into me, and I’m gone. I’ve made this far too easy for him.
“Good girl,” he coos, stroking my hair once more. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You have no fucking idea, I think. At least his hands are nowhere near my crotch now, though.
Adie strokes me for a minute or two, before his fingers circle the pink tie that is holding my hair in place. He then carefully removes it, letting my tresses spill into his hand as he undoes my plait.
“Such beautiful hair,” he whispers, rubbing the ends together in his fingertips. Meanwhile, my body stiffens on red alert until he finally sits up, aware he should be doing something else.
“Well,” he says, “I suppose we should get this show on the road. I need to get you set up with a banana bag, to replace your lost fluids, and I also have to scan you for bugs. After I’ve done that, we can progress to stage two of this little exercise.”
Oh. Fuck.
Adie
Ione is not what I expected. Yes, I know she’s a doctor, and that she has to deal with death every day, but I thought she’d go to pieces pretty quickly as soon as I nabbed her – and she hasn’t. That, in itself, is odd enough. The fact that she refused the water is also odd, but maybe she’s worried that I’ll drug her again – and I will – but I don’t need to put it in her water. I have numerous ways of achieving that, and as a doctor, she should be well aware of that. Perhaps, like her brother, she is just hard-headed and stubborn. Plucky little thing, though. I’m not sure how she’s holding it together, but she’s doing a lot better than I expected.
Attaching a bag of fluids to the stand I brought in, I connect it to her cannula and release the valve. I don’t want her passing out on me tomorrow. She needs to be hale and hearty to endure everything I’m about to do to her. If she’s anything less, she won’t last very long, and I’ll have to keep editing the video footage, which is a pain, not to mention time consuming. It’s much better if we do it in one take. The sooner James comes running, the better.
After I’m happy she’s all connected, and that everything is working as it should, I get out my RF signal detector. This little beast can detect radio waves, magnetic fields, and hidden wired or wireless camera equipment. If James has stashed anything on Ione, this little monster will find it. I need to be particularly careful and check her over thoroughly. The last thing I need is for him to stroll in while I’m in the middle of a session. That will mean he’ll have the upper hand, and we’ll be back to square one. When he comes to pick Ione up, she needs to be on her knees, ready to pray to any God that will have her for release.
Strangely enough, I think she’ll be a hard nut to crack. I don’t know that for sure, it’s just a sixth sense thing, but I’m usually right. Ione has this look in her eyes that says she’s been through worse, which is ridiculous, because she can’t have been. James would have protected her. I know he would. It’s there, though. That something. She’s either been mishandled or slapped about a bit. Perhaps James doesn’t know about it. I’m not sure the pair are very close. Anyway, it’s time to get down to business.
Running the signal detector slowly up and down the front of her legs, I then move over her stomach and breasts. The little chips can be hidden in all manner of places, and I’d be surprised if James hasn’t wired her up with something. The man is all careful planning and precision. In fact, she probably doesn’t even know about it. If James was smart, he’d have done it in her sleep one evening, and then never breathed a word about it. That’s what I would have done if Alaina had still been alive. I wouldn’t have let her out of my sight.
The room stays eerily quiet. I run the machine all over her torso and get nothing, so I go all over her head (hair can be an excellent hiding place) before starting on the arms. The left arm gives me nothing, and just as I think there’s a good chance she’s clean, I hear a distinctive beep. It’s coming from her right upper arm, and it’s most definitely a nasty.
“You’ve been tagged.” I pull my penknife and lighter out of my pocket. I’m going to need them in a minute. She’s not going to like this next bit, but there’s not much I can do about that.
“Tagged?” That innocent little face looks at me questioningly. My eyes narrow. I really can’t decide what to make of this one. Is she playing me? If she is, she’s very good. There’s no blinking or telltale signs of lying. If, as I suspect, James has done this covertly, it won’t be an act. She’ll have no idea what I’m talking about. It’s a dilemma, though. Parts of her don’t add up.
“Someone’s put a GPS tracker in your arm. Little tiny chip, about this big,” I hold up my thumb and forefinger with less than a five-millimeter gap. It tells people where you are at all times.”
She looks at me strangely and shakes her head. “Why would they do that?” she croaks.
I really must give her some water. Her throat is all broken up. The IV will do its thing eventually, but fluids down the normal route will speed things up. Besides, I’ll need to get a few other bits and pieces together now I know we’re being watched.
“Because you have an overprotective brother who wants to know where you are at all times,” I say. I give her the benefit of the doubt. This has James stamped all over it.
“What are you going to do?” Those hypnotizing blue eyes stare right through me. I almost shiver.
Standing up, stretching my neck from side to side, I turn around and walk towards the door. I’m not sure she needs to know what I’m going to do ahead of time. We’re not at the torture stage yet. That comes later. For now, silence will be better.
“Tell me,” she wails pitifully.
Turning back to look at her one last time before I leave the room, I watch as she begins to shake. Is it an act? I’m getting all the right signals, but they seem to be on the wrong frequency. Fuck, listen to me. I’m trying to over analyze everything these days. She’s a civilian. She’s scared. The dots add up.
Something tells me I need to be careful with her, though. It’s that something that I can’t put my finger on yet, but it will become apparent soon enough. At least I’ll only need a couple of hours with her before she squeals. Girls are fairly predictable like that.
“Drink,” I command. I’ve got the little bottle of water pressed to her lips again, and I’m holding her head up so she can take a sip. If she wants to defy me, I’m not going to push it, but there’s little reason not to drink now she’s all hooked up.
Thankfully, Ione comes to the same conclusion and her lips close ove
r the straw as she takes a long drag. I hold the bottle there patiently, as she drains the thing dry. She’s going to need a few more of them, but we’ll start slow.
“That better?” I ask.
She nods, although the look in her eyes would belie the words. If I could read minds, I’d say she was currently fantasizing about ways to cut me up into little pieces and feed me to the dogs.
Ione then clears her throat. “Just so I’ve got this straight, if I need to go, I just do it all over the floor, right?”
Her voice is a little less ragged now and a lot more acerbic. I like a woman with spirit. I wonder what she looks like when she’s really angry.
“That’s not going to be a problem soon, princess. I’m going to restrain you upright against the wall, so you won’t have to lay in little puddles of your own making.”
“And until then?” She twists in her chains, obviously uncomfortable, but there’s nothing that can be done about that for the time being.
“If you behave nicely, I might see if I can arrange a makeshift bedpan.” I reckon a paint roller tray will do the job.
Ione rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not sure how I can behave any other way while chained up like this.” She’s got a point.
“Well, if you start spitting at me, you get to lay in puddles.” There is a time and a place for bodily fluids, and I don’t like them dribbling down my cheeks. I’ve love to have some of mine dribbling down her cheeks, however. We’ll save that for tomorrow. Probably best not to tell her that just yet, though.
“Might almost be worth it,” she grumbles.
“Try it and see.” I give her a dark look as I flick my penknife blade out to check that it doesn’t need sharpening. It shouldn’t, but I can’t honestly remember the last time I used it. I always carry one with me and it’s come in handy on several occasions, just not lately. Anyway, it’s great for intimidation, if nothing else.
“I’m not wasting any of my water on you,” she says, shaking her head.
I smile at that. “Sensible decision.” I then begin sterilizing the blade of my knife by running the flame of my lighter along it. Turquoise eyes follow my movements, but they don’t burst into tears as I expect them to. Must be the doctor training. I’ve heard some of them cut each other open and then stich each other back up for kicks.
Ione then frowns. “Did you put aspirin in that water?”
I shake my head. “Aspirin doesn’t work that quickly. You should know that. I put it in the bag.” I indicate the IV fluids beside her.
“Ahh.”
We don’t say anything for another minute or two. I’m silent because I’m concentrating on locating the chip as accurately as I can, so I don’t chop off half her arm in the process. I’m assuming she’s silent because she thinks I’m an absolute monster who’s about to carve her up. It’s a fair assumption. It’s time to get busy.
“Does that hurt?” I’ve just inserted a knife into her arm without any kind of anesthetic, so I know it hurts. I’m only asking because she hasn’t made a sound yet and I want to check we’re not in a parallel universe or something.
“Yes, it fucking hurts,” she grits out.
“Good to know.” I did only put aspirin in that bag, didn’t I? Yes, I’m positive. While I probably do have stronger things lying around the place, I’m too lazy to go and get them. Besides, she’s had enough shit in her system for now. “You can scream if you want to. It won’t bother me in the slightest. Screaming helps with pain management.” I should know.
“Thanks for the heads up, but I’m conserving my energy for later,” she says through gritted teeth. Huh. Anyway, it’s probably a good thing. I don’t need Mrs. Yarrow knocking down my door.
Ione is a model patient. Her arm stays perfectly still on my lap while I poke around with the tip of my knife until I hit something hard and metallic. Most people would be going nuts right about now, with the exception of James, perhaps. Maybe being impervious to pain runs in the family.
“Very sensible,” I reply. “You’re going to need it.” Coaxing the little chip out with a pair of tweezers, I then press my hand down sharply over the wound and tape it up securely with butterfly sutures. It should hold. If it doesn’t, I can give it a couple of stitches later, if necessary.
“What will you do to me if he doesn’t come? If he doesn’t return what he stole from you?”
Ione’s voice is small and breathless once again. It turns me the fuck on, but there’s no time for that now. Later. We’ll have all the time in the world later.
“He’ll come.” There is no question that James will come to rescue his sister. I would bet my life on it.
“If he doesn’t, what will you do? Will you kill me?” Her gaze is now wholly focused on me. It feels like she’s trying to pull thoughts out of my head. Yes, I’ll probably kill her if James doesn’t show, but I don’t need to tell her that. I can hardly let her go, can I? She’ll go running to the authorities screaming her head off, and unless Elizabeth decides to rescue me, I’ll be in rather deep water. At the moment, my boss isn’t likely to rescue me. Not when I’ve got that video of her naked body plastered all over my phone. Then again, maybe that’s a good reason why she would rescue me – to get it back.
“It won’t come to that.” My voice is firm and loud. This should indicate our little chat is over.
“It might.” Her voice is tiny and small.
It won’t or there’ll be fucking trouble. Clearly, I need to look a little more threatening.
Picking the knife up again, I run the tip of it down her right thigh, leaving nothing more than a light scratch in its wake. Ione’s body instantly tenses up as she wonders what I’m about to do next.
“Then you’d better get your prayers in order.” Throwing the knife against the wall behind her, there’s a distinct thud as the blade buries itself in an inch of plaster. I’m going to regret that move later. I hate decorating.
James
“Why am I wearing a blindfold?” My wife giggles as I lead her up the stairs to our bedroom. She is now three months pregnant, and she has never looked more beautiful. Pregnancy has given her a glow that makes her look ravishing. Even more ravishing than she did before, and that’s saying something. Running my hand over the delicate little bump that is barely showing, I pull her close to me and breathe in her scent. Please don’t let anyone take her away from me.
While she thinks I’m about to pull some kind of kinky fuckery on her, alas, she is sorely mistaken. I have blindfolded her so I can keep her safe while I take care of business. If I tell her what I’m about to do, she will insist on coming along and that can’t happen. I would never forgive myself if she or our unborn child were to get hurt. Adie is a lit fuse that is ready to go bang at any moment, and I will gladly suffer whatever it is he has planned for me in order to keep her out of this mess.
“James, what are you up to?” There are more giggles as I lead her into our bedroom, which is about to become her makeshift prison for the next day or two, until I can get someone to pick her up and take her out of the country. As far as prisons go, it’s a comfortable one, featuring an en suite, plenty of food, drinks, books and a TV.
“I thought we were going to call each other by our real names from now on in?” I then bite her ear and flick my tongue inside it. She squeals.
“Sorry. I can’t get used to calling you Jake. It’s going to take time. Besides, I like James. For the record, you haven’t been very good at calling me Kat, either.”
She’s right. We’ve known each other by our aliases far longer than we’ve known each other’s real names. I still refer to her as Lois. These things will take time, but I’m sure we’ll get there, eventually.
“Are you going to find out what the baby’s sex is? Do you want to know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl?” I change the subject. I want her preoccupied and talking.
“Do we want to find out, you mean?” Lois’ eyes sparkle. “I was thinking I’d like to leave it as a surprise, but if
you want to know, I’m happy to negotiate.” She reaches her arms towards me, which is perfect timing, as I then pick her up and place her flat on the bed. I need to have her one last time before I go and rescue Mel. I might as well get it in now because if Adie is going to beat me to a pulp, I’ll be out of action for a little while. That’s not Adie’s style, though. No. He’d much rather poison me and chop me up. He knows he’ll never win a fight with me. My training in that field far surpasses his.
At least I won’t have to go far to get him. I’ve been tracing Mel’s whereabouts for the last few hours, and they’re in central London. I did wonder if he’d whisk her away abroad, but that doesn’t appear to be the case, thank God. With any luck, I can get in there, explain the situation, grovel, and get the hell out. If he wants to lump me, I’m prepared to take one for the team, but he is not getting my wife. Lois is not in love with him, and if he needs her to spell it out for him, I’ll let her – on the fucking phone. He isn’t getting with fifty miles of her, otherwise.
“I’m happy to leave it as a surprise.” I am. I will be over the moon whatever sex the baby is, and I will love the little monster to bits. I can’t wait to be a father. The only thing that is souring my utter joy at being one is Adrien. Damn that self-entitled little fucker. We did not leave him to die, and nor did I steal his girl, although I know that’s what he’s thinking. She was never his to begin with, and he’d know that if he’d just take the time to ask her. Adrien would never think of doing something so simple, though. He has to do everything the hard way.
At least he fell for the switch. If he’d actually kidnapped Ione right now, I’d be having kittens, and I feel bad enough that I’ve thrown Mel under the bus. Thankfully Mel’s capable of handling anything that Adie throws at her, although she may not like it much. He won’t kill her, so I’m not worried about that – not until he has me at least. I’m more worried that Mel will hold one heck of grudge when he’s finished, and if that’s the case, I hope I’ll be able to stop her killing him – if she hasn’t already, and it’s a distinct possibility.
Deadly Retaliation: A Dark Bully Harem Romance (A Twisted, Dark and Deadly Romance Book 1) Page 22
