Make Me, Sir

by Cherise Sinclair

  The world spun dizzily as she wiggled to a sitting position. She swallowed hard. Am I at the Shadowlands? No sounds. Not Marcus"s place. She"d left him at the club. So why the bondage?

  She"d driven back to her apartment. Right. And she"d punched Dickhead? She flexed her fingers, gritting her teeth at the soreness in her right knuckles. That part wasn"t a dream. Then…Jessica"d arrived, and they"d started to climb the steps. A man in the shadows. Pain. Gabi tensed, remembering the horrible pain, how every muscle had shrieked in agony. Then…

  Here. She turned her head. Jessica lay beside her. Unconscious. Handcuffed.

  They weren"t at the club. Not playing, not a scene. No no no. A scream tried to escape, couldn"t get past the constriction in her throat. The nausea, the headache, the grogginess…drugged.

  The horrible realization came from deep inside and slammed into her brain.

  Kidnapped. Thompson hadn"t caught the perp.

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  I’ve been kidnapped. With Jessica. Terror rose in her, as inescapable as waves breaking on the rocks, swamping her thoughts until the room itself turned red.

  Cold.

  I’ve got to get out of here. She jerked on the bolt, and it held her implacably.

  No. Oh God, please. She rattled and yanked the chain. Let go, dammit, let go! Pulled over and over, until the metal handcuffs ripped her skin.

  Pain. The increasing pain pushed her beyond her panic. Panting, she slumped against the cold wall. What was she doing?

  I panicked. She shook her head, forced her breathing to slow. Don’t do that again, Gabi. As she stared at the blood trickling down her wrists, terror waited on the edges of her mind, pushing against her control.

  Using all her willpower, she turned her attention away from the restraints.

  Where are we? Gray walls, gray floor. Metal. Not a room. A cargo van. It stank of sweat and fear and sickness. And sex. She pushed farther back against the wall, pulling her legs in, curling into a ball.

  The only light came from a small mesh window in a door between the cargo part and the cab section. The cargo area held a cooler, a porta-potty, and a big corrugated box for a washing machine with a handcart leaning on it. Nothing within reach.

  Her chest started to tighten, but Jessica groaned.

  A minute later, the blonde raised her head, squinting against the light. “What happened?”

  “We"ve been kidnapped.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Do better, Gabi. “Sorry. At my apartment, I think somebody Tasered us and drugged us. We"re chained up.” Gabi listened. No traffic noises, no people shouting or laughing or talking.

  The chains jangled as Gabi rubbed her aching head. “No one knows where we are—or even that he"s got us.” The FBI thought they"d caught the perp. How long before anyone called Gabi? Oh dear God. Fear spiraled outward. No rescue. No hope.

  Her hands closed into fists as she fought for control.

  “Easy, girlfriend, easy.” Jessica slid closer.

  Not alone. She had someone depending on her. I can’t lose it. “Sorry,” Gabi whispered. Heart hammering, she mentally edged back from the chasm. After a second, she turned and leaned against the wall of the van, facing the other woman.

  “We"re kind of in trouble.”

  Hands clenched into fists, the blonde stared around the van, her face white.

  Then her chin lifted. “I reserve the right to yell about you and Z later. For now, tell me what"s going on.”

  Despite the ice creeping up her spine, Gabi almost managed a smile. Trust Z

  not to have a wimpy girlfriend. “It"s like this…”

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  As Gabrielle talked, Jessica tried various ways to get out of the handcuffs. No deal. By the time Gabrielle finished the story, Jessica wanted to kill Z, dead as a doornail. That"s why he"d come down on her so hard for her brattiness. Why he"d kept gagging her. And why… “He tried to keep me out of the club completely,” she said slowly.

  “I bet.” Gabrielle shook her head. “Anyway, the only thing he feels for me is sympathy. I"m sorry that he couldn"t tell you.” She grimaced. “Marcus was furious when he found out.”

  “But if you"re with the FBI and a decoy, then someone will rescue us.” Hope bubbled up. She could almost hear the good guys sneaking up on the van right now.

  “No. God, this is so screwed up. My backup, Dickhead, treated me like a slut and kept getting nastier. Last night, someone told him they"d caught the kidnapper, so he figured the assignment was over and came on to me.” Gabrielle shuddered.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Name-calling was done. Groping happened.”

  “And?”

  “And I broke his nose. He left.”

  Outrage burned through Jessica. “Your protector abandoned you?”

  Gabrielle shrugged. “Well, supposedly they"d caught the bad guy. Not.”

  “So no one knows we"ve even been kidnapped.” Oh God. Jessica"s fingernails dug holes in her palms. “I don"t suppose you have any wonderful FBI skills?”

  Gabrielle gave a bitter laugh. “I"m a social worker, not an agent. I volunteered because I"d played in BDSM clubs—years ago.”

  “You"re not an agent?”

  “I"m sorry. I can"t believe he got you too,” Gabrielle whispered. “He"ll s-sell us.”

  Her face was white enough to match her scar, shivers shook her constantly, and she looked right on the edge.

  “You okay?”

  “I"ve had so many nightmares of this. And now it has happened.” Gabrielle stared at her hands, breathing way too fast.

  Jessica remembered how a few members had laughed at the bratty trainee"s punishments. Except she wasn"t a brat at all. For a month, this poor woman had played decoy, hoping to be kidnapped. Jessica shook her head, sympathy overwhelming her fear. Time for me to shoulder a little of the burden.

  She considered options, then slid as far as the chain would let her. She bumped her arm companionably against the woman"s shoulder. “Hey, if two brats can"t figure out how to get out of this, who can?”

  Gabrielle stiffened and stared at her in disbelief.

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  Jessica gave her a level look and tilted her head in the way Z did when he challenged her to try something new.

  Gabrielle"s shoulders straightened. “Oh. Okay.” Her eyes cleared. “Get out of here? Sure. We"ll just do that little thing.”

  “You bet.”

  “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.” Jessica waited a beat. “Guess I won"t get to knock you on your ass when this is over, huh?”

  This time Gabrielle actually chuckled. “No wonder Z adores you.”

  Jessica stared.

  “Oh, please. I"m not blind. I"ve seen the way he looks at you, how he treats you.” Gabrielle gave her a derisive sniff. “Personally I thought you were a real bitch, but if you believed I"d poached on your man—and that he"d actually look twice at me—I might have come across all pissy too. But get over it. The man loves you.”

  A knot in the pit of Jessica"s stomach disappeared, and her eyes pooled.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “You know, I feel better. I"m still terrified, but…better. I"m so happy I could even…scream.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Jessica let out an earsplitting scream, and Gabrielle followed suit.

  As the back door of the van rolled up, Jessica"s eyes watered at the sudden blast of daylight.

  “The bitches are awake, Cesar.”

  “Good.” Another man"s voice. “It"s almost time to leave.”

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  Chapter Twenty

  Unable to sleep, Marcus had risen at dawn and tried to prepare questions for a witness in his next court case. Useless. He couldn"t concentrate. He picked up
the phone in his home office and punched in Gabi"s number. Still no answer.

  Damn the little sub, walking out of the club without even a good-bye or have a nice life or anything. Damn Celine too. After handing him his drink and saying Gabi was using the restroom, she"d started in with her “you"re my master” bullshit. She probably wouldn"t pull that again, since he"d called over some doms and told them she was looking for a master.

  Finally freed up, he"d gone to find his missing sub, only to discover she"d left.

  He rubbed his face wearily. He"d almost called Z to demand Gabi"s address, but showing up at her home might screw up the FBI investigation. She"d best get her pretty ass out of bed and answer her phone.

  Why had she left like that?

  Maybe, with her assignment concluded, she figured they were done with each other. She"d be wrong.

  Hands laced behind his head, he leaned back in his office chair. Smiling, he remembered how she"d blown out the candle for wax play. Little brat. He needed to convince her to remain another week—and stay here with him. If he could win a jury over, you"d think he could argue a case for himself. Or he might could wrangle some vacation time from the DA and visit Miami.

  No, sugar, we’re not done.

  When his phone rang, he picked it up, anticipation rising. No one would call him this early, except maybe a repentant trainee. “Hello.”

  “Marcus, is Gabrielle with you?” Z"s voice.

  Disappointment gave way to concern. “No, she isn"t. Why?”

  “She"s not answering her phone, neither is her backup from last night. The agent coming on duty says she"s not in her apartment, but her car"s in the parking lot.”

  Marcus was on his feet with no memory of standing. He forced a breath. Get the facts, Atherton, before going off half-cocked. “Maybe she and the agent went for a walk?”

  “Apparently the next man would get notified of their location.”

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  A cold hand squeezed Marcus"s spine at the implication. “Are you at her place?”

  “On my way. Galen and Vance are there.”

  “Give me the address.”

  Twenty minutes later, Marcus pulled in to the parking lot of Gabi"s apartment complex. Three-story building, dull brown, no landscaping. It hurt him to think of her living here. He squinted at the numbers on the doors and spotted hers.

  A light rain spattered against him as he ran across the lot. He veered around a small Taurus parked in the fire lane and took the steps two at a time.

  Gabi"s apartment stood open, a man in a dark suit blocking the door. “Let him in,” Z called from inside.

  Marcus pushed past the man.

  Vance and another man were in the living space. Z stood in the tiny kitchen area, his face drawn with exhaustion. “Marcus.”

  “News?” Marcus asked.

  “Nothing good.” Z kneaded his neck. “That"s Jessica"s car in front. Unlocked.

  Her purse is in it. Her phone too. She"s not answering at home.”

  Marcus stared at him. “Both of them are missing?”

  Galen stepped out of the bedroom. He carefully used his foot to push a cat back and closed the door behind him. He nodded to Marcus and spoke to everyone. “I called in. The tracking devices are operating, but they"re worthless. Both Gabrielle"s shoes and purse are still in her car.”

  “No chance you"ve made a mistake?” Marcus asked.

  Galen gave a bitter glance at a set of keys on the kitchen table. “Vance found Gabi"s apartment keys on the sidewalk by the steps.”

  The fury rising in Marcus"s veins was matched by sheer fear. Where are you, Gabi?

  * * *

  “You gonna scream again, bitch? We"re in the middle of a swamp—won"t do you much good.” In a tank top and jeans, a repulsive man with pitted skin and stringy black hair stepped up into the van, rocking it with his weight. Gabi saw the gang tattoos covering his arms and almost panicked again. His mouth twisted in an ugly grin as he stared at Gabi, his gaze lingering on her breasts. “Cesar knows I like it when bitches scream.”

  Her heart hammering, Gabi stared past him and out the van door. Oaks with hanging moss, thick underbrush, a dirt road. Silent except for the dripping of water from the trees and a few bird calls. She glanced at Jessica and saw her unhappy comprehension. No one would come to investigate their screams.

  The man called Cesar stepped into the van and pulled the door down behind him. Dyed blonde hair, mud brown eyes, just under six feet, and thickly muscled.

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  He wore overalls with an appliance store brand. “I don"t like cleaning up my van when you chickies piss in your clothes, so use the porta-potty now. You won"t get another chance till you"re on the boat.”

  “What"s going on? Where are we?” Jessica asked, her voice shaking slightly.

  Cesar snorted. “Always the same questions. You"re getting sold to buyers who will appreciate your special…qualities.”

  “Now?” Fear combined with the nausea from the drugs, and Gabi"s stomach roiled. How much time do we have?

  “Soon enough. A boat"ll pick you up in downtown Clearwater in a couple of hours. We"ll be on our way in a bit.”

  “Then what?”

  He shrugged. “Don"t know. Don"t care.” He glanced at the other man. “Jang, one at a time. I"ll cover.” He patted the Taser holstered on his belt.

  When Jang pulled a key from his jeans pocket, Gabi saw the outline of a cell phone. Her nostrils flared as if she could scent hope. A phone.

  “You first, bitch.” When his eyes raked over her, Gabi"s skin crawled. “We gonna have us some fun on the drive. I am, at least. You"re gonna scream.” He grabbed her wrists and shoved his other hand in her corset.

  Without thinking, she kicked him in the balls as hard as she could.

  He made a horrible high-pitched sound as he staggered sideways. His legs gave out, dropping him to his knees as he clutched his groin, gagging and sucking air.

  Gabi pulled her legs back, the momentary sense of victory eclipsed by fear.

  Then she raised her chin. She"d pay for kicking him…but it had been worth it.

  When Jang moaned, the other guy gave a nasty laugh. “You forget we divided the cuffs so each bitch got one set? Legs are free, you fucking idiot. Now move it.”

  Jang pushed to his feet, his gait unsteady, his face pale. He detoured around her legs. Before she could move, he grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the side of the van.

  Pain ripped through her head in a searing explosion. Her stomach turned over, and she gagged.

  “Shit.” Jang released her and stepped away hastily.

  “Fuckhead.” Cesar made a sound of disgust. “It still stinks from the last one puking her guts out. Just let her piss and lock her back up.”

  Growling, Jang unlocked one cuff, yanked the chain free, and hefted her to her feet. He shoved her toward the portable toilet.

  She let herself stagger, which wasn"t hard considering she felt dizzier than hell. Turning to sit on the commode, she deliberately fell forward, knocking into him. As he staggered back, he grabbed her upper arms. With Jang"s body blocking the other man"s view, Gabi thumped her head on his chest to divert his attention, and slid her hand into his pocket.

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  Her fingers closed around the phone.

  She dropped onto the toilet, hiding the phone in her hand and hunching over her stomach as if she needed to throw up. And if her head got any worse, she might.

  After a quick breath, she lifted her head and glared at Jessica. “What are you staring at, you loser? This is all your fault.”

  Both men turned to look at Jessica.

  The blonde"s mouth dropped open.

  Hell. Catching Jessica"s gaze, Gabi mouthed, Yell.

  Jessica blinked. But she caught on fast. “My fault? You"re the skanky bitch who tried to steal my man.” She yanked a
t her restraints.

  While the men"s attention was on Jessica, Gabi shoved the phone into her corset, hiding it between her breasts. Then, taking her time, trying to get her stomach to settle, she did her business, humiliated at the sound.

  Still walking bowlegged, Jang hauled Gabi off the toilet, locked her back up, and gave Jessica a turn.

  Leaning back, Gabi watched under her lashes, praying no one called Jang"s phone. She figured, no matter how dumb he was, he might notice if ringing noises came from her breasts. To her relief, they simply chained Jessica up, walked to the front, and shut the door to the cab section behind them.

  The engine started with a rumble, and the van pulled out.

  Gabi frowned. The door between the cargo section and the cab held a tiny window. They could see into the back, but probably not easily since the only light came from that window. Why have a door at all?

  Her stomach twisted. Probably so no one on the street could look through the windshield and see the handcuffed women. Her breath hitched. No. Can’t panic now.

  “What"s with all the acting?” Jessica whispered. She must not have seen Gabi pick his pocket.

  If you’re watching from the other side, Danny—thank you for the lessons.

  “I got his cell.” Head splitting with pain, Gabi fumbled around the restrictions of the short length of chain and handcuffs, finally managing to fish the phone out of her corset. She punched in 911. Busy.

  Tried again. Busy.

  Dammit all. She put in Rhodes"s number. No answer. “I don"t remember Galen"s number. Give me Z"s number.”

  Jessica reeled off a number. No one answered, and Gabi used voice mail, trying to be clear. Kidnapped. Clearwater. Docks. Cargo van.

  “Describe the guys—tell them about the tattoos,” Jessica whispered. Gabi did and finished, telling him not to call the cell"s number. She put it on silent too…just in case.