So far I had kept my promise of no tears, but I was pretty sure Mark didn't trust me. He hadn't looked at me once, but to be fair, he had to keep his wits about him just to retain his balance. One wrong move and it could all be over very quickly. There was only so much of this he could stand, especially as we'd had no food or water in over twenty-four hours. Even though he was as stubborn as they came, I didn't see him lasting more than an hour. Blood loss, dehydration and exhaustion would get the better of him eventually.
Kyle paused every now and again to take a look at me. When he didn't get what he wanted he simply continued his game, knowing I'd crack eventually. And I would. Watching Mark writhe in pain would be my undoing, and he knew it.
The first stumble came after twenty minutes or so, and my attention was then glued to the stage. Mark wobbled one way and then teetered back the other, but eventually he managed to find his balance once more. Kyle gave another glance my way, but I held my nerve. The second stumble came not long after, but this time Kyle continued to swing the whip, making it nearly impossible for Mark to recover his footing as he was swung this way and that. Five vicious cracks of the whip, all at once, sent my husband reeling and I had to choke back a sob. This was the beginning of the end.
It continued like this for another twenty minutes, and now Mark was slipping all over the place in his own blood. My poor husband was beginning to flag. He didn't get more than a few seconds on his feet at any one time, and was wheezing in air whenever he could. The lack of oxygen would make it difficult to do anything, and he probably couldn't even think straight. When a particularly nasty blow smashed into him I'd had enough.
"Stop it. Just stop it," I pleaded. "There must be something you want. Anything. Name it and I'll do it; just leave him alone," I sobbed. "If you want to kill someone kill me, but let him go." The tears were falling freely. Memo to me: never make promises you don't have a chance of keeping.
Mark must have heard me because he roared out his displeasure for all to hear, using valuable oxygen that he didn't have.
Kyle immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to stare at me. "Well, well, well. You do have a heart. I was beginning to wonder." Pausing, his eyes narrowed, and I could see the cogs beginning to turn. I knew what that meant. He wanted to have some fun with me. It was unlikely I'd save my husband this way, but I might buy him a few seconds worth of air.
"What do you want?" I croaked.
"Hmm, what do I want?" His index finger came up to rub his top lip as he appeared deep in thought. I knew better. He'd already planned for this and was just waiting for a chance to watch me squirm. Whatever he was about to suggest would be absolutely horrific, but it couldn't be any worse than the carnage I was witnessing.
Kyle walked up and down the platform in front of Mark as he pretended to consider my proposition, his shoes making terrible sucking noises as they stepped through blood. "I think there may be something I want. Jennifer, how about you come up here."
He beckoned me with his index finger, and I shakily got to my feet even as Mark yelled out, "No!"
I didn't care. I couldn't watch any more. Mounting the platform, putting one foot in front of the other with equal amounts of terror and dread, I came to stand before him, trembling like a leaf.
"You'll do anything, huh?" His calculating look was beyond creepy, and I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but there was no turning back now.
"Anything," I confirmed.
"Then you'd better bend over and roll that T-shirt up around your waist."
"You fucking bastard," Mark spat, earning himself another slice of the whip which sent him skittering across the other side of the platform, gasping for breath once again.
Meanwhile I closed my eyes and did as ordered. If this was what it took I was willing to pay the price. Bending over from my waist, I began rolling the T-shirt up. There were no feelings of embarrassment. I was too terrified for that.
Harry and Freddie were watching us with their tongues hanging out. That should have repulsed me, but again I was too far gone to care. My head was not in a good place.
"Jen, you do this and I'll never forgive you," Mark yelled, and his last attempt to save my soul was duly noted. But if I didn't do it I'd never forgive myself, and that was all that concerned me right now. Do or die. There was no time for thinking.
Kyle moved towards me, running his hand up my inner thigh. I shuddered. There was another hand, curling around my waist as he pulled me into him, and I heard Mark screaming in the background. Blocking the sound out I concentrated on the stone wall in front of me. Kyle ran a finger down my backside and plunged into my anus with no warning.
"What say I take her in the ass, Matthews? Think she'd like that?" Mark came barrelling across the stage, hoping to knock Kyle over, but he managed to move to the side of the platform just in time, out of his reach. My stubborn husband then spent a stupid amount of time trying to strangle himself in order to reach us.
"Yes, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do, Mark." He slowly unzipped his pants, and the rasp of his zipper rang loudly in my ear. Feeling a cock being pressed up close and personal with my backside, I stared at the stone wall and started counting in my head. A weird coping mechanism, I grant you, but I had to do something other than scream. When he grabbed hold of my hair and pushed my head forward to bend me over a little further I wanted to pass out, but I held my nerve. If it meant saving the life of my husband, it was a small price to pay.
Chapter Twenty-Six - Mark
When Kyle bent Jennifer over I wanted to gut him like an animal. Scrap that. Gutting him would be too quick. I wanted to peel every inch of skin off his body while the bastard was still alive and then let him admire my efforts after I'd finished.
Although I admired my wife's courage, she was playing right into the bastard's hands. He would still kill me, but now she'd get a sick and twisted memory of the event to take with her. I couldn't let that happen.
Working desperately to try and loosen the rope around my wrists, I nearly tore the flesh off my hands in my attempts to get free. No matter how hard I struggled the cord was wound too tightly, and there was no way I was going to budge it. What was I going to do now? There had to be something. If I had to watch this I was going to go crazy.
Just as that thought entered my head the sound of splintering glass tore through the building, and every head in the room whipped round to see where the noise was coming from. If my ears hadn't deceived me, it sounded like there was someone upstairs. A few seconds later heavy booted footsteps could be heard, and there were several pairs of them. I prayed they were on our side. We really needed a miracle right now. My head swung back to Kyle to see what he was up to.
"What the fuck was that?" Kyle had immediately stopped what he was doing and was zipping himself up rather quickly. Shoving Jennifer off the platform so abruptly she nearly went headfirst, I winced. Somehow she managed to land on her feet, and at first glance it didn't look like she'd hurt herself. My eyes darted back to Kyle, who was now also on the floor. Watching as he grabbed hold of the wooden platform, I realised things were about to go south very quickly.
With a vicious yank he tore the platform away and my bound hands shot towards the noose, trying to cushion my neck on the dive downwards, so it didn't bloody break. The jarring impact of the fall nearly severed my fingers, but at least it didn't kill me. Jennifer immediately ran to me, clinging to my body like a limpet and trying to prop me up as best she could. But Kyle had other ideas. Grasping her around the elbow he tried to yank her away, but she wouldn't let go.
"Come on you silly bitch, we have to get the hell out of here!" Kyle pulled his gun out of his back pocket, aimed it at me and released the safety.
"Over my dead body," she screamed, still trying her best to hold me up, and then she turned and slammed her knee in his groin. Atta girl. It slowed him down for a moment or two, but when he'd recovered he wrenched her away sharply, leaving me hanging as he made to aim his gun once m
ore.
He wasn't fast enough. The room filled with men in black and they all looked terrifying armed with machine guns and grenades. They turned to focus on Kyle, Freddie, and Harry, who instantly dropped their weapons as soon as they were ordered to. Unless you want to die you don't fuck with the SAS, and unless I was much mistaken, this was them.
Someone cut me down and provided Jen with a foil blanket. She sank to the floor with it, shivering and sobbing uncontrollably. I would have given anything in the world to go down there to comfort her, but there was no way I could bend my back after what had happened.
"Jen, sweetheart. It's all over now. Don't cry." I tousled her hair with my fingertips, but she only sobbed harder. It was going to take a little while to come down from the horrors of today, so I decided to let her cry it out for a while.
Meanwhile, one of the guys took a look at my back and whistled. Speaking into a walkie-talkie at the top of his belt, he ordered an ambulance.
"Christ, you should be in agony right now. How come you're still standing?" He looked rather in awe of my injuries, and that probably wasn't good. Right now I barely felt them, but I knew I would in a couple of hours.
"Because sitting down would be too painful." I smiled tightly. "Thanks for coming to our rescue. Did Laurel send you?"
He looked confused for a moment. "I don't know. We just follow orders. You'd have to ask the man in charge." He pointed to someone who was currently using cable ties to restrain Kyle hand and foot. He was none too gentle about it, of which I thoroughly approved. When he'd finished he walked towards us, pushing the goggles he was wearing over his head before yanking his balaclava off.
"Mark Matthews, isn't it? Hang in there and we'll get you an ambulance in a jiffy." He had short grey hair, blue eyes, and looked like a reasonably intelligent fellow. Was he in charge?
"Just need to get my knife out. Ah, there it is." Although the man was talking to me he had eyes only for Jennifer. Who was he? Jennifer hadn't paid him any attention until he'd started talking to me but was now looking him up and down with eyes that were red-rimmed with tears. She didn't stop staring at him, then her head tilted and her eyes narrowed as if she recognised him. I was definitely missing something. The man then began sawing at the ropes that still held my hands together, and it didn't take him long to cut through them.
"How long have you been here, Dad?" she whispered.
Fuck, no. The man in front of me was her father? This was fucking great. He worked for the intelligence service and was a crack shot. I'd probably been rescued from one disaster, straight as I was about to dive into another. This could not be happening. Oh, and let's not forget I was stark bollock naked. That's always a good impression to make on your first meeting with your father-in-law.
"A while. I like to do my homework before I start taking people out. We have protocols to follow and all that." The wry grin on his face told me I'd been hung out to dry for the past hour or so, while the bastard decided to see what I was made of. I made a strangled sound and it was an effort not to punch him, even though he was currently trying to untie me.
He didn't seem at all phased by it. Just pushed my hand out of the way and continued with what he was doing. "You didn't do too badly up there, old son. I was almost positive Jen had married a pussy at the beginning, but you seemed to come through admirably."
This was the last straw. I was going to kill him. It might have to wait until I wasn't naked and tied up, but it was definitely on the cards.
"Jen, darling, I can't tell you how extraordinarily good it is to see you. I know I'm that asshole who hasn't been in your life since forever, but the security of the country was at stake, and any association with me or your mother would have probably got you killed, which is why your mother remarried. Redcliff had enough money to keep you safe, and she severed all ties with him as soon as she was able. When she married him he was quite the respectable gentlemen and she seemed certain he would remarry someone nice, but it seems we both fucked up, doesn't it? The man's an absolute animal. Your mum and I are going to have good fun with him soon, though. Rest assured. I'm Rupert by the way." He shook her hand briefly, by way of introduction.
My head was reeling. "So let me get this straight. You're SAS, and you married the leading lady of the Mafia?" This could not be true. Someone, somewhere had to be having a laugh. I mentally crossed out trying to kill him. That would be a big mistake... and then all the dots connected. This was why Redcliff had wanted me dead. He needed all my money to kill the pair of them. Putting a hit on a member of the SAS was certifiably insane - but I could almost sympathise with the bastard. I shook my head in disbelief.
Rupert turned to Jen and rolled his eyes. "He's not too quick this one, is he darling?" He gave me a withering look that had me itching to punch his lights out, but I kept myself in check. Family relations were already strained enough as it was.
"MI6 actually, but yes, that's about it, old boy. Well done for keeping up." Rupert slammed his palm onto my shoulder, sending shards of pain all through my body. I was beginning to see why Redcliff wanted the man assassinated, and I wondered whether I did have enough money to get the job done.
"What better wife than one who knows everything about everyone? There's not a stone that goes unturned without Laurel noticing. Is she still going by that name, by the way? I can never keep up."
Neither could I, and that was saying something.
The ambulance chose that time to arrive, and we were all herded outside, where I was bundled facedown onto a stretcher. It was a position I was getting a little too familiar with. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled to be alive, but my masochistic streak had been well and truly sated because I never wanted to go through anything like that ever again. Jennifer settled in beside me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it as if it were a stress ball. Squeezing back, I turned to face her and drank her in. I'd come so close to losing her. So, so, close. It didn't bear thinking about.
"Thank God you're okay," I whispered.
Jen whistled through her teeth. "Me? It was you who was swinging there, up on that block." She put a hand on her chest and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"It's all over now. We don't have to think about him ever again." Well, except what we were going to do with him, to make him atone for his many sins. That monster had better not be being shipped off to prison. I had a lot of ideas on how to punish him, but keeping him nice and cosy under Her Majesty's close observation was not one of them.
Jen gave me a quick smile and kissed my cheek. She then turned to her father, who had also got in the ambulance with us. There was no getting rid of him for the time being, it seemed.
"So where have you been for the past twenty-odd years?" Her voice was small, and I could tell she was suffering. Both parents had been reintroduced to her in a short space of time, and it looked likely that the pair of them were quite intelligent but completely nuts - which was a rather dangerous combination.
He coughed a little contritely, as well he might. "Ah, all over the place really, darling. I was in the US at the time of September 11, I've had some fun in Ireland with the IRA, and I've spent a lot of time in Russia, Syria, and Iran as well. My work is all undercover, and I feel like I haven't seen the light of day for years. You'll be pleased to know that I'm about to retire in two weeks, though, and I'd love to catch up with you and your family if you'll let me. Although I'll understand if you don't." Rupert gave her a pleading look and beamed at her. He went for a goofy expression that was cunningly brilliant. My wife was reduced to a puddle almost instantly. Fuck.
"I think I'd like that," she said softly. I knew I wouldn't. I wondered how far we'd have to move away to prevent more than yearly visits from her parents. Brazilian rainforest, Sahara desert, Outer Mongolia, or even the Arctic Circle were now on my list of favourite places to relocate; the less access there was by sea, land or air, the better.
"Yes, I'm going to have a lot of free time on my hands very shortly, so whenever you want to catch up, da
rling, you just let me know. I'll be round straight away. I may not have been there in your younger years, but if you'll have me, I'll do my best to make up for lost time.
Over my dead body. I was going to build a twenty-foot, electrified barbed wire fence around my whole estate, and plant land mines in my garden. Maybe I'd employ some snipers, too.
It was about time I changed the conversation. "How were you able to locate us? My phone would have led you to Hyde Park, but you wouldn't be able to get here with that, surely? And where were we being held?" I still had no idea, but it appeared to be in London, as I'd previously thought.
"Ah, that. You're very lucky I work where I do. If I didn't you'd be dead about now."
I had a feeling that might be the case, but I was not going to feel beholden to the man. He'd left my wife high and dry without a parachute for the past twenty years, and so what if the security of the country had been at stake. Damned if I was going to forgive him that easily, even if my wife seemed to pool into a puddle at his feet. Looking at him expectantly, I waited for him to continue.
"When our experts were trying to track you down, we watched the footage of Jen leaving your office, but no one appeared to be tailing her. Several other cameras on her walk down to the café confirmed the same thing, which meant someone nabbed her out of nowhere. At first we figured they'd hacked her phone until we were told she didn't have it on her. Then we guessed someone had planted a tracker on her, but someone would have had to get very close to her for that, and she didn't even have a handbag on her; the obvious place to drop a tracking device. It was unlikely her attacker would have planted it on clothing because it's too risky. So that led me to digging up dirt on your recent exploits, and your visit to Escape."
Oh, fantastic. Jen's father, who kills people legally for a living, now knows I like to spank and whip my wife, as well as torment her... I was going to die a horrible, horrible death. I went so pale then that the medic who was monitoring my statistics asked if I was okay. I wasn't, but I nodded.
The Velvet Collar Page 26