Ruthless

by Myers, Kelly

  “I’m just getting started,” I press the button as I check my phone, texting Albert.

  Any updates from the gazette?

  Not since the last piece. It’s like they’ve dropped the whole thing.

  I see.

  Did you have something to do with this?

  Do I strike you as a man to kiss and tell?

  Fair enough. I’ll keep you posted.

  I step out of the elevator and into her room. As I close the door, I do it softly while I watch her sleep. It would have been interesting if she tried to remove the blindfold that’s secured with a lock around her head. Being the intelligent woman that she is, she must have known that it would only hurt her more.

  Lowering myself to the ground, I sit at the other end of the room with my legs crossed. She doesn’t make a sound, and her breathing is slow and steady. The urge to remove that blindfold and look her in the eyes is strangely powerful this time, but I have always taken pride in my willpower and the ability to restrain myself when the situation demands it.

  But then again…there’s always a way to get what you want and make the other person think that they’ve won, isn’t there? That’s not the strategy I’m adopting. That’s the one she is trying to use on me.

  I clear my throat, readying myself for the next experiment, my heart pounding at the prospect of a thrill I know can cost me a lot if I wasn’t careful.

  And she starts to move. “Wha—Who’s here?” her words come out in a whisper.

  “You still wanna see my face?”

  She sits up, slouching her shoulders as she exhales. “I can’t imagine a reason that can make you change your mind. Unless…”

  “Unless?”

  “You got clearance to kill me.”

  I glance at the camera that only I know is there. “Guess again.”

  “I’m afraid I’m out of ideas,” she bitterly smirks.

  “How about a deal?”

  “I’m not eating, nor am I touching my laptop until you let me out of here.”

  “You always jump the gun, Dina. Tell me, what does your name mean?”

  “Some biblical bullshit.”

  “Blasphemous.”

  I like it.

  “You’ve turned me into a believer. I’m getting my own personal hell right here, am I right?”

  “It all depends on your outlook.”

  “What’s your deal, Zero? We both know I can’t remain so predictable for long.”

  I chuckle. “Promise?”

  “Oh,” she draws it out. “you can bet on it.”

  “I’ll let you see my face,” I watch her hold her breath. “Only if I can see you naked.”

  20

  Dina

  “I’ll let you see my face,” he pauses, and my breath lingers motionless in my chest. “Only if I can see you naked.”

  Oh… Zero, you are good at this game. So good, in fact, that I’m beginning to get inspired. If I want to come out of this alive—and those chances are slim, I’m quite aware—then I must remain flexible. A little bit of lenience may actually help me win him over just enough that I can know more about this operation.

  Letting the smile take its sweet time to draw itself up on my lips, I think about the award-winning story I can put together, covering this cagey encounter.

  In captivity…one journalist survives…whatever it is that’s about to happen to me. Will it be rape? Gang rape? Will they force me to dance naked for them? Or take part in an underground club where the rich and famous pay to fuck a masked woman. I guess I’m about to find out.

  “I’ll take it,” I daringly announce.

  “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he lets out a quick, sharp exhale before I hear the door open.

  “Hey, wait!”

  “Backing out already?”

  I try to catch a glimpse of what he has in mind. “This deal is just us, right?”

  “Of course. But I’m not the one responsible for the…logistics.”

  “Logis—” before I get the chance to ask, he shuts the door and leaves me alone for a moment. Even the damn thing is soundproof, so I can’t hear what’s happening on the other side.

  A moment later, it cracks open again, and several footsteps occupy the room. I hear metal clanking, keys turning in locks and a whole lot of stirring. Soon, a hand grips my foot, and I initially recoil before willing myself to relax. The smooth cuffs are removed from my ankles to be swiftly replaced with cold, hard chains.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I heckle.

  Not a single word is spoken in response, so I resign to the fact that—for now—I am nothing but their puppet to do with as they please. Squeezing my eyes shut underneath the dark fabric, I take a deep breath and picture myself in a whole other place as they lift me up and turn me over, sitting me down at the edge of the bed.

  When the chains are finally secured around both of my wrists, the mystery men leave the room, and the door is closed again.

  “I guess we’re alone now?” I whisper.

  “We are,” his words ooze with triumph.

  “Cameras?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that, I promise.”

  “Oh, you promise,” I chuckle.

  “Careful, Didi. I am a friend, but I’m also a very proud man.”

  “Blasphemous,” I throw his word back at him.

  “The reasons why we’re clicking are just as enigmatic to me as they are to you.”

  I say nothing, but I think I understand what he means.

  He takes a deep, audible breath and lets it out. “I should warn you… there’s a gun in my hand in case you decide to do anything stupid. Not that you strike me as someone who’d be that careless.”

  “I thought you said you’re not gonna kill me.”

  “Ever been shot at?”

  “No.”

  “Then the odds are in my favor in terms of startling you. Don’t worry, I hardly ever miss.”

  “I get the sense that you trust me. I mean, why else would you keep revealing your plans to me in advance?”

  “I trust myself.”

  Egotistical bastard.

  I don’t know why I didn’t realize earlier that they had taken off my shoes. My feet are now settled on the cold floor tiles, almost completely numb as the icy sensation slowly creeps up from my soles, sending shocks of electricity through my core. These damn socks are utterly useless.

  Powering through the shivers, I push myself up to my feet. My legs are weak, and my knees are barely cooperating. “Here goes nothing,” I whisper as my hand reaches for the top button of my blouse.

  “Wait,” he stops me with one commanding word. “Start with your feet.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “I’m beginning to think that you’re not going to honor our agreement.”

  “Yet you’re about to do your part anyway.”

  “I want you to see me naked,” I mock.

  Look at the person you’re abusing. Really look. Study her features—every crease and nook. Every old scar and every freckle. Perhaps that’s the only way for you to realize that your subject is really human.

  “Socks go first,” he orders.

  I tilt my head and say nothing before I bend over, feeling dizzy enough that I think I’m going to faint. For some reason, however, fate keeps me going. It has me standing with my feet rooted to the ground. It wants me to discover something—I feel it in my bones.

  My fingers reach the soft elastic band underneath the frigid metal of the chain, and I push downward, releasing one foot then the other. Discarding the pair, I straighten up, slowly as not to lose the last trace of balance I manage to maintain.

  I let my fingers linger on my waistband, tilting my head, awaiting his instructions.

  “That’s right,” he confirms.

  As I release the button and pull down the zipper, I take my time. Leisurely, I picture myself stripping for a boyfriend or a mystery man. I don’t k
now what has come over me, but I think…I think I’m enjoying this.

  “Keep that pace,” he directs as if he just caught the same thought in my head.

  “Okay,” I draw it out in a whisper, inserting my fingers at the sides of my waist, pushing down as the cold keeps my skin bumpy. I hold my breath—an old trick my mother taught me when I was young to fight the shivers—and slowly, the pants slide down to my feet.

  “Now the shirt.” His voice is hoarser now, deeper.

  I undo the first button, then the second, parting the plates away and revealing more skin. I wonder if he expects to see cleavage because I’m not well endowed enough for that. My fingers quickly move to the third button.

  “Slowly,” he warns.

  “Why?”

  “How about we take ‘because I said so’ as a general answer from now on? It’ll save us both time.”

  “Sure, you sound like a busy man,” I smile as I undo the button. “I, on the other hand, seem to have nothing but time.”

  “I’m that lucky.”

  As I feel the rim of my bra cup with my fingertips, my hands hesitate. What’s the end of this? And would he really take advantage of the situation and make further moves? Reminding myself that I’ve only made it this far by complying, I part the fabric further and close my eyes before my fingers suddenly stop cooperating.

  “You’re nervous,” he calmly remarks.

  “Well, I haven’t exactly done this before.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Dina.” I think I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “You’re doing great…carry on.”

  He calls me beautiful, and my ridiculous feelings take over for a second, so I humor them—anything to help me soldier on.

  This is a compliment, I think to myself. Just take it and move on.

  “You should’ve bought me dinner first, Zero,” I joke, my uneasy tone betraying me as it comes out awkward and dull.

  “One tried, didn’t he?”

  “He’s not my type,” I insist on following through with my flawed humor, urging my fingers to move to the next button.

  He chuckles, and for the first time, he sounds genuinely amused. Do all men transform into different creatures at the slightest sight of something sexual?

  My legs are now frigid enough for me not to feel them at all, but I draw a deep breath and continue. I reach the last button, and as I open it, I know that my panties are now visible.

  “If I knew I was going to be here today when I left the house, God knows how long ago, I would have worn something nicer,” I smirked.

  He laughs again. “Oh, this is perfect.”

  His referring to my cotton blue underwear with the superhero logo on the front as ‘perfect’ sends the blood rushing to my cheeks. He doesn’t miss it.

  “You’re adorable,” he chortles and almost snorts.

  “I’m also freezing, so can we speed this up?” I give the fabric over my shoulders a slight nudge, and the shirt drops, hanging at my wrists where the chains stop it from falling to the floor. The faint whiff it creates behind my thighs sends another wave of goosebumps all over me.

  “Now, the hero must fall.”

  I know what he’s referring to, so I quickly reach for the soft elastic around my hips and push down. I hear him draw a sharp breath, but I don’t catch the sound of its release.

  “Bra,” he orders.

  With a little difficulty, I unclasp the band at the back and hook my fingers around the straps, pulling down as I let the weight of the chains assist gravity. My nipples are hard to the point of agony.

  “Your turn,” I announce between racing breaths.

  “You’ve earned it.” I hear his steps approach as I shiver and shake.

  His warm fingers slide from my chin upward, evidently working to untangle the stray hairs that have been caught in the strings of the blindfold throughout the past day or more. I can feel his breath on my face as he works slowly and carefully.

  “Just rip it off,” I whisper.

  “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he mirrors my tone.

  I find it rather ironic that he pretends to care while I’m standing here, freezing to death before his eyes. The heat radiating from his body, along with the herbal smell of some product he uses, cloud my judgment for a fraction of a second. Why does he have to smell so good while I reek?

  “Here,” he places a metal item in my right hand and steps away. “Turn it in the lock at the back.”

  With my fingertips, I reach to the nape of my neck and work my way upward, reaching the hole where the key should fit. I know that my breasts now look perky, and I force a frown, distracting myself from the notion that a strange man is watching this sick circus for one.

  I hear a click as I twist the key, and finally, the blindfold drops, landing on my collarbones before it slides down, prompting a loud metallic clank. It’s too much light, and my eyes aren’t yet accustomed, so I quickly squeeze them shut and draw a sharp breath from between my teeth.

  He remains quiet as I slowly part my eyelids, the light hitting my eyes at a more merciful pace. My vision is blurry, so I blink a few times, careful not to completely open just yet. His hazy silhouette tells me that he’s a tall, slim man clad in black. I furrow my eyebrows and squint, carefully opening my eyes as they regain focus.

  Is that…Gabriel Palanick?

  My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. It’s him. I was right all along.

  “Hello, Dina.” His smile grows wider. “Pleased to meet you.”

  My body shudders harder as I process the live image of the man who’s been putting me through this hell. I want to cry, but I refuse to let him witness my weak moment. Instead, I finally let my knees give in and sway sideways, landing on the edge of the bed with my eyes still fixating on him.

  The cold sheets greet my buttocks as I settle down, and my lower lip trembles.

  Without saying another word, he comes forward, and I’m too consumed to respond with a gesture. He picks up the jacket he once gave me and wraps it around my shoulders. Our eyes meet, and in his, I see nothing that I can explain.

  21

  Gabriel

  Seeing her standing there, bare naked and shivering, yet defiant and challenging, stokes the fire within me even more. But then, when she collapses on the bed, she pulls me back to reality, and I fear that she’s about to pass out. As I reach for the jacket, our eyes meet, and only for a fraction of a second, I’m under the threat of getting lost in the depths of that wild, expressive gaze.

  I wrap the jacket around her before quickly withdrawing, reclaiming my spot at the other end of the room. Safe from her if she decides to reach for the gun in my holster. And most importantly, safe from her captivating eyes.

  “That gun is not loaded,” she says monotonously as her fingers grip both ends of the lush cloth, folding it shut around her frail torso.

  A smirk pulls up one side of my mouth. “Busted. How did you know?”

  “You would have never come this close if it was.”

  “Will you ever stop surprising me?”

  “I’m freezing.” She shakes her head in a daze, staring at her pants now in knots around her ankles.

  She bends forward to pull them up, but I drop the gun and leap forward, catching her hand.

  “Seriously?” she tilts her head, her eyes reflecting her immense exhaustion. “You got what you wanted.”

  “Let me.” I begin to pull up the blue garment, holding back a smile. These must be the funniest panties I have ever laid eyes on.

  I’m aware of her tired eyes watching me. I, too, am beyond fatigued. She stands up, and I settle in front of her, busying myself with the mundane details while my eyes can’t seem to leave her porcelain skin alone.

  “What do you hope to get out of this?” she whispers, clearly attempting to conjure up my mercy. “I’m useless to you.”

  “Time,” I simply answer. “All I need is a little more time.”

  “Now, but what about later?”

  �
��Later will be too late.”

  “For whom?”

  “For anyone who tries to interrupt. Once the process begins, I’ll have the backing of everyone who matters.”

  “Just kill me, then.”

  “I’m not a murderer.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “So, be it.”

  “I’m not buying that.”

  “I’m tired.” I turn away, letting her finish buttoning up her shirt. “Sometimes, I’m too tired to be alive. So, it doesn’t matter if you report this. Once the project is launched, it’s not even mine anymore. It’s greater than the two of us. You won’t be able to stop it.”

  “Is that why you showed me your face?” A faint smile creeps up on her lips. “You’re depressed?”

  I can’t tell if she’s surprised or being sarcastic. And at this point, my battery is at its lowest. I don’t care what she says. What she thinks. My body is shutting down, and my breath grows shallower.

  “I’m whatever you wanna say,” I wave it off with a gesture from my hand, landing back on the floor, crossing my legs.

  She sits down on the bed, wringing her hands before cupping them in front of her mouth, blowing steam.

  “Come closer, depressed boy,” she titters. “Be useful.”

  I wrinkle my eyebrows and tilt my head, puzzled by her invitation.

  “I’m fucking freezing,” she raises her voice in frustration.

  Her request is alien to me. When was the last time you heard of a hostage asking to stay close to her captor? This could mean one of two things: She’s completely desperate and in real need of warmth, or she’s an incredible genius playing on my curiosity. In both cases, I have nothing to lose. She can’t possibly overpower me, and so, I get up and cover the distance between us. As I approach, she shifts in the bed, chains clinking as she lifts them up. Settling by the wall, she frees up enough space for me to sit.

  “You’re insane,” I shake my head as I take my place next to her.

  She instantly holds up the blindfold key. “My last weapon.”

  I take it. “You’re worse than insane.”