Hyland's Property

by Felicity Brandon

  “Like we said,” I replied. “Take me back to Zander’s place.”

  It was mine now, of course. As his only living relative, I was due to inherit whatever remained, but things still seemed too raw to talk about the building that way. These men had worked for my uncle, and it would be his place for a while to come.

  It was his legacy hanging over the area like a haunting.

  “What do you have in store for her?” Michaels probed as we joined the main road.

  I laughed at his audacity. “I’m going to keep her,” I told him. “I decided I need a woman in this country, and I have little patience to wait.”

  “And what if she doesn’t want you?”

  “She doesn’t get a fucking choice,” I replied with a dark laugh. “The way I see it, the bitch is lucky I want her at all. I’ve saved her from the grasp of the prick, Morrison, got one over on the bastard, and got myself a pretty little plaything, all at the same time.”

  “Not bad for your first day,” Johnson agreed.

  “How long will it take for her to wake up?” I inquired, my attention slipping to her face once again. She was beautiful—pale, flawless skin stretched over high cheekbones. No wonder Morrison wanted her. It riled me he’d tasted the fruit that should belong to me, but there was nothing I could do to change the past. All I could focus on was the future.

  Hilary was my future, and while I had to stay in this godforsaken city, she could help take the edge off and satisfy the darker proclivities that would require attention, now I could no longer frequent the exclusive clubs that had satiated my desires for so long. The fact she was Morrison’s squeeze just made it all the sweeter. I could strike at him while I took my fill. I could taunt him with the loss while I marveled at the satisfaction of the gain.

  It would be wonderful.

  “Depends,” Johnson answered with a shrug. “There’s not much of her, so it might take a few hours.”

  “What about side effects?”

  It was typical of me to query the point now that she was already unconscious, but that was the man I’d become. I was a shoot now ask questions later guy, with a proven track record in getting what I wanted. Nothing was going to change that. At twenty-eight, I was as set in my ways as Zander had been. In many ways, I suspected I was even worse.

  “She should be fine.” Johnson glanced back at Hilary’s sleeping form. “Dehydration may be an issue, perhaps nausea, but nothing a little tender loving care won’t rectify.”

  My brow rose at his assertion. TLC? That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  “Just keep her alive,” I warned him. “That’s what I pay you for.”

  He smiled. “No problem, boss. She’ll be fit enough for whatever you have in mind.”

  A dark rumble of laughter echoed around the interior at his comment as both he and Michaels mused on the notion, but the reality was neither of them had any idea what Hilary’s fate would be.

  Nobody did.

  Except me.

  Chapter Five

  Hilary

  DARKNESS. THAT’S ALL there was, the breathtaking, encompassing darkness that swallows you up and threatens to drown you. That’s what greeted me as I roused. Comforting at first, it soon became insidious, speaking of what was to come if only I could wake up and realize my predicament. My head pounded, warning me I’d had one too many drinks the night before, but as I strained my thoughts, I couldn’t remember having a drink. Actually, as muted recollections materialized back, I couldn’t recall drinking at all. I hesitated, pulling in a breath. Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember much. I certainly didn’t recollect meeting Saul or getting back to his flat. My brow furrowed. What was the last thing I remembered? I’d gone home after work, then what?

  Swallowing back the rising anxiety, I tried to lift my hand to my temples and rub my sore head, but for some reason, I couldn’t. I tried again, and still unable to move my right hand, I concentrated on using my left instead.

  Nothing.

  My limbs were not responding.

  I could feel them, sensed my fingers straightening at my hands and the way my biceps flexed at my command, but for some reason, I couldn’t connect the dots. I couldn’t make those fingers and the muscles work together and lift my hand to my face. I tried my feet instead, but to my horror, the same reality dawned. I could wiggle my toes and circle my ankles, yet somehow, my legs wouldn’t move beyond that rudimentary motion. Something seemed to be preventing me from moving at all.

  Genuine panic bubbled inside, and a well of sickness stirred in my stomach.

  What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I recall anything about yesterday, and more importantly, why couldn’t I move?

  Opening my mouth, I wanted to call out for help, but in the end, all that escaped was a desperate croak, my throat dry as I commanded my eyes to open.

  “She’s coming around.”

  I froze at the sound of an unknown male voice, my body all but paralyzed, save for my heart, which raced out of control.

  “About fucking time.”

  Another voice. Oh shit, wherever this was, whatever had happened to me, there were two men, and I didn’t recognize either of them.

  “Is she okay?”

  The second voice was louder now, its deep tone floating over me as I finally persuaded my lids to accommodate my instruction and flicker open. My breath caught at the sight that awaited me, and on instinct, they fluttered closed again, assuming this was all some type of awful bad dream.

  “No, Hilary.”

  My body straightened at the sound of my name. Crap. God only knew where I was and why I was here, but whoever these guys were, they knew me. A reflexive shudder shot up the length of my spine.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I forced them to comply, eyeing the man who wandered into my line of sight and the darkened room behind him. No wonder the blackness had enveloped me. That’s all there seemed to be out there—dancing shadows and dank air.

  The guy was no one I recognized, his brown eyes and thinning hairline reminiscent of a thousand men before him. Lifting his hand toward me, he flicked on a small flashlight—the sort doctors sometimes used—and waved it in my direction. Head aching, I squeezed my eyes shut again, turning my chin to avoid the beam of light.

  “The good doctor asked you to keep them open.”

  I leaped at the proximity of the second voice. It sounded as though it was being whispered into my left ear, and as my attention whipped in that direction, I came face to face with another man, a far more striking man, smirking at me.

  “Who are you?” Somehow, I compelled the words out, even though my throat felt like sandpaper. “Where am I?”

  He stared down at me, deep blue eyes alive with emotion as he spoke.

  “Be a good girl and look at the doctor.”

  Wordlessly, his hands approached. I watched their progress with horror, my eyes widening as his fingers skimmed my cheeks, guiding my head back toward the other guy. Somewhere in my brain, I screamed at myself to resist him, to knock his hands away, but there seemed little chance of that. I still had no power over my limbs, and my head felt heavy as lead. All thoughts were scattered by the damn flashlight again, which the first guy shifted one eye to the other. This time, there was no hope of looking away, held in place as I was.

  “Reflexes look normal,” he murmured, though I could only assume it wasn’t me he was addressing. “Let’s check her pulse.”

  Flicking off the light, he slipped it into his shirt pocket before reaching for my wrist. The hands at my face relaxed, enabling my gaze to follow his journey to my hand, and for the first time, I realized why I couldn’t move.

  Bound.

  The word echoed around my head.

  I was bound.

  Bound to what looked like a chair, my arms fastened against the structure with thick leather straps.

  Cold fingers slid to my wrist as my brain attempted to process the new information.

  I was bound to a c
hair!

  Why the fuck was I bound to a chair?

  “Pulse is good,” the first man said, his focus flitting to the one beside me. “How do you feel?” That question was fired in my direction, both of their attention searing into me, as though they expected some sort of damage report.

  “Who are you?” It was easier to speak now, but no less painful on my parched throat. “What do you want?”

  “Do you feel sick?” The first one inquired, ignoring my completely reasonable queries as his fingers left my flesh. “Headache?”

  “Answer him, Hilary.”

  I turned at the demand, locking eyes with the one who seemed to be in charge, and fleetingly, something about him was familiar, though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I certainly didn’t know him. He didn’t work with Saul, but there was something about him that seemed to make sense, something I recognized. My brows knitted as I tried to figure it out.

  “Need a little help recalling what happened?”

  I nodded, staring at his eyes as though his gaze had enthralled me. They were the color of the deepest oceans, mysterious and mesmerizing, and right now, that was as much as my mind could process.

  “Answer the doctor first.” He gestured toward the other man. “Then I’ll answer some of your questions.”

  Looking back to the first guy, I pressed my dry lips together.

  “I’m thirsty, and my head hurts. Can I have a drink?”

  “That’s not how you ask, is it, Hilary?” the one with the captivating eyes asked as the two men exchanged a glance. His tone was mocking, as though he was patronizing a small child.

  “I don’t know what you mean?” I felt my brow furrow as I tried to understand. It was as if everything was happening in water, each deed playing out in slow motion, my thought processes struggling to calibrate the unfolding events.

  “Ask nicely,” he coaxed. “If you’re a good girl, things will be easier for you.”

  My gaze darted back to him, uncertain if I’d heard him right. Had he just suggested things would be easier? If I wasn’t mistaken, that sounded like a threat, as though waking up bound to a chair hadn’t already been a glaring omen.

  “You know how to ask nicely, don’t you, Hilary?” His dark eyebrow arched with the query, those blue eyes flashing, daring me to counter him.

  I’d have gladly done so, too, if I could only figure out who he was and what the hell was going on.

  “Please, can I have a drink?” I wondered if they were the correct words, and the way his face relaxed assured me they were.

  “There we go,” he praised, reaching for the side of my face again. “I knew you could be good.”

  My instincts screamed at me to recoil from his touch, but for some reason, I didn’t. I was still trying to understand why I knew his face. Why his bronzed skin was so familiar when it was clear it wasn’t anything to do with Saul.

  Saul.

  The face of the man I’d been playing with for the last few weeks flitted into my mind.

  Saul wouldn’t have done this.

  Saul didn’t treat me this way.

  “She seems to be fine.” My gaze lowered at the doctor’s appraisal. “Heart rate is up a little, but that’s probably shock.”

  Probably shock? Was he joking? Whatever was going on here was scaring me half to death, and if I could ever figure it out, I’d have a mouthful for them both.

  “Shall I get her a glass of water?”

  I glanced back in his direction, wondering why he was seeking approval on the subject.

  “Yes. Bring it here, then leave us. Hilary and I have some things to discuss.”

  The knot of angst in my belly twisted at the way he made that sound. I’d worked with The Syndicate long enough to know one thing—nothing good ever came from discussions where one person was tied to a chair.

  The doctor turned, walking away until he reached the only visible door. As he pulled it open, a shaft of light filled the dark space, revealing more of the interior. It looked as though the room was abandoned, empty as far as I could tell, apart from the chair I was fettered to. As he pulled it closed behind him, the shadows rose once more.

  Chapter Six

  Sean

  “HAVE YOU WORKED IT out yet?” I couldn’t resist asking, playing with her a little, now that we were finally alone. “Do you remember who I am?”

  It seemed Johnson had done his job. Hilary was alive, she was awake, and apart from a little dehydration, she was fine. My gaze slid over her bound form, my arousal soaring. Boy, was she fine. I’d removed her suit skirt and jacket when we got her back here, leaving her gorgeous body in its tight white blouse and tan stockings and garter belt before I secured her to the chair. I’d removed the heels, too, but mainly for my own protection. Hilary had already proven she was inclined to use her footwear in self-defense, and based on some of the things I was going to do to her, I decided to play it safe.

  “No.” She shook her head, her brow furrowing as her gaze fell to her chest. “I recognize you, but I don’t know why, and where’s my skirt?” Her head shot back to me. “Why am I half-naked?”

  “That’s an entirely different question.” I smirked as I sauntered around to fill the space Johnson had vacated. “Let’s start with the basics, shall we—who I am. Any ideas?”

  Hilary glared at me. “This isn’t funny.” She forced the words through gritted teeth. “It isn’t a game. This is my life.”

  “Indeed,” I agreed. “And it’s going to go a lot better if you relax, do as you’re told, and drop the attitude.” I liked it, though. There was no denying that. I liked the mettle in the woman, the tension in her jaw and the venom in her voice, but I couldn’t allow it. Hilary would come to heel. She was just like any other prisoner, anyone I’d held captive—bound by my rules and by the reality I decided—except the things I had in store for her were far more special.

  “I...” She hesitated, and I could see the conflict warring inside her—her desire to tell me to go and fuck myself fighting with her self-preservation instincts. “I don’t know who you are.”

  “Rule number one.” My tone was even, practiced, revealing nothing of the excitement burgeoning. “From now on, you call me Sir.”

  “What?” Her wide gaze flitted to mine. “Why would I do that?”

  I chuckled at her performance. “Because you’re the one tied to the chair, darling. You’re the one who has to impress me.” Silence bloomed around us as she tried to comprehend her predicament. “Do you understand? I know what they say about blondes, but it’s not true, is it? You’re a smart girl, Hilary. You get it.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was quieter, her gaze falling to her stocking-clad knees as I waited for the word that would make my cock harden and my heart sing. To my absolute irritation, it didn’t come.

  “Yes, what?”

  I leaned closer, my voice clipped. I wanted Hilary, but I wasn’t a monster. I would make it good for her, so long as she played the game. Showing me the appropriate level of respect was the first step on that journey.

  “Sir.” She never lifted her chin to meet my eyes, but it didn’t matter—she said it. There would be time for finesse later.

  “Good. So now to my question. Know who I am yet?”

  Curious blue eyes were back on me in an instant, adorned by the delightful blush blooming on her cheeks.

  “No, Sir.”

  “Want me to help?” I offered her a smile not only as reassurance, but frankly because I was enjoying myself, and it was only just the beginning. “We met yesterday in a little-known coffee shop called Maisy’s.”

  Her eyes widened perceptibly, the wheels in her head, presumably starting to turn.

  “Oh God,” she croaked. “You were the one I ran into. You were going to message me about your dry cleaning.”

  I laughed gently at her recollection. “Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m less concerned about the dry cleaning now.”

  I lowered to my haunches, my gaze raking over he
r bound body. Not only were her hands secured on the armrests, her ankles were bound to the bottom of each side of the chair as well, making escape all but impossible. Her thighs strained to close under my surveillance, but the position of the bondage meant that was hopeless as well. There would always be a few inches for me to play with, those inches currently offering me a tantalizing glimpse of her panties. I’d been a good boy, resisting the temptation to play with her while she’d been unconscious, but now she was awake, it was a different matter.

  All bets were off for Hilary.

  “What do you want from me?”

  I waited a few seconds for her to give the address I’d asked for.

  “Sorry, what was that?”

  She sighed, her shoulders dropping in defeat. “Sir,” she practically spat the word. “What do you want with me, Sir?”

  “Your compliance, your obedience...” I paused as our gazes met. “You.”

  “Me?” She gasped, pushing her breasts toward me as her chest filled with air. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Kill you?” I couldn’t help laughing at her conclusion. Clearly, she had worked for Morrison for too long. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

  “You kidnapped me,” she started. “You have me tied up in the dark. It...” She paused, her eyes gazing around the room I had chosen for her initial captivity. “It doesn’t bode well.”

  “Rule two.” I leaned even closer until there was only a matter of inches between our faces. “Listen to me, Hilary. I already told you how I needed you to behave, didn’t I? I told you to be good and obey me, then I can make things better for you.”

  She blinked, her warm breath washing over me.

  “Are you going to hurt me, Sir?”

  My balls ached at her plea, but I pushed the soaring arousal down.

  “Not if you do as I ask,” I assured her. “I just wanted some company, but once I dug a little deeper into your online profile, I found out something else. Something that makes you infinitely more worthwhile to me alive.”

  “What?”

  My brow arched at her missing word. If Hilary was going to be this remiss with my simple instructions, I would help her focus.