“Yes, Master!” I shout in desperation, and withdrawing, he flips me over like a rag doll before slamming back into my dryness.
“Yes Master, what?!” he shouts and grabs one of my breasts, digging his filthy fingers into the delicate flesh.
“Yes, Master, I’d like all your men to fuck my ass.”
“Such a good slave. Maybe I’ll arrange that for you when I return.” M leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips. It’s tender and a complete contrast to the rough treatment my pussy is currently receiving from his dick as he pounds into me. “I’ll leave you with a present to remember me by whilst I’m gone.” He kisses me again and bile rises in my throat because I know what‘s coming next. He lowers his mouth down the curve of my breast and sinks his teeth deep into the tender flesh. It’s excruciatingly painful, and I realize I’ve blacked out when I find myself immersed in my dream of hope:
“May I have this dance please?” The tall gentleman bows before me. He’s handsome with a strong jawline and dark brooding eyes. They bore into me, and my stomach does a flip.
“You may,” I respond, holding my hand out to him, so he can help me up from my seat where I’ve been sitting, watching the other debutants dance. My chest heaves in the tight, white corseted bodice I’m wearing. The long skirt my maid paired with it is a stunning teal colored lace with thousands of beads. My blonde curls are pinned up with antique clips, loaned to me by my mother for this very occasion.
“I’m Mr. Darcy,” the gentleman informs me as he leads me onto the dance floor.
“Megan Ragnell,” I reply and spin around in a circle when the dance starts. It’s an old-fashioned Quadrille.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ragnell.”
“And you, sir.”
“I’ve not seen you at the dances before?”
“This is my first season in society.”
“Then I’m glad I chose tonight to attend.”
The gentleman pulls my hand up to his lips and presses a soft, chaste kiss to it before we continue with the dance.
He fills my dance card for the rest of the evening, and by the end of the evening, we are making plans with my family for a visit, leading to a potential engagement. That is how true romance is done: with decorum and respect. Not with a man taking what isn’t his.
I jolt out of my dream without experiencing the usual amount of pain or disgust…something is different. The room is dark and quiet. I reach between my legs and find only my blood—there’s none of the sticky fluid M normally leaves me covered in. He didn’t finish? I’m confused.
“Master?” I test the word on my lips before speaking it into the silent room. It comes out like a whispered scream. I reach over and turn my light on. It’s dim, but it gives me a little brightness. I look down at my body and see the bite marks covering my breasts, stomach, and thighs. He must have continued while I was unconscious, but why didn’t he finish? “Master?” I question again, but this time a little louder. I pick the lamp up and shine it around the room. His clothes are gone, and it’s only then I realize I’m alone in the room.
Noises come from outside the door: gunshots, grunting, and heavy boots stomping up and down the corridor. In my panic, I drop the lamp and it breaks, extinguishing my light. Then there’s a loud thump on the door, and I scramble up to the headboard of the bed and wrap my arms around my legs in a futile attempt to protect myself. My body shakes with fear, and my teeth begin to chatter together.
Two more loud thuds against the door resonate through the room before it splinters and collapses from whatever force is being exerted on the other side.
My eyes adjust to the light now shining into the room, and the first person I’ve seen in two years, except for M, stands in the doorway. His eyes are aflame with anger as he steps farther into the room. I know I should run and try to escape, but I’m captivated by his presence, especially the spider web tattoo I can clearly see adorning his arm.
Gawain
Two eyes as black as night stare out at me from the tangled mass of blonde hair belonging to the naked woman huddled on the bed. She’s the reason I’m here, and from the look of her, I should have been sent much sooner. The room is dark except for the artificial light flooding in through the doorway. It’s 3 am, and she should be asleep, but instead she’s wide awake, looking as if she wants to run away and hide. Her body, from what I can see, is covered in bruises and bite marks. Her lip is healing from a previous assault, and a muddy green mark highlights where a black eye must have once been. I take a step into the room, and the tension rolling off her radiates out and smacks me in the chest. She’s terrified, and I need to play this carefully.
“Hello.” I lower my voice to a soft, friendly tone. “May I come in?” This must be her room, and despite the horrors I imagine have gone on within it, I need to respect that to gain her trust. This isn’t my first rodeo with a trafficked girl, and I know it won’t be my last. It’s my responsibility within the Cavalieri because, apparently, I have a sweet nature when it comes to women. I think the rest of the outfit have confused my need to fuck as many women as possible mixed up with something more altruistic, somewhere along the line. If it saves another woman, though, I’ll do all I can. I’m not that much of an arrogant prick. I’m just highly sexually charged when the occasion demands, but this is not, in any way shape or form, one of those instances.
“No,” the woman whimpers back to me. “Please, don’t.”
I hold both my hands up in the air to show surrender.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’ve come to take you away.”
“Y-you c-can’t,” she stutters out her answer and shifts back on the bed, trying to hide herself from me, but with only a bare mattress to lie on, she’s unable to do so.
I dare to take a step farther into the room, and her eyes open wider, her nostrils flaring with anxiety.
“Please,” she begs me. I’m still holding my hands up, but I take the opportunity to lower to my knees and bow before her. Every movement is done slowly to demonstrate I’m not a threat to her.
“You have my word I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Gawain Vincent. I’m part of an organization sent to help you.” I keep my head lowered but raise my eyes, so I can see her. She’s leaned a little forward on the bed, so she can keep all of me in sight and is clearly confused because I’m on my knees before her.
“You’ll take me to another Master?” She shifts farther forward on the bed, and I can see her shaking. Her little hands trembling with nerves.
“No. No more masters. I’m taking you to freedom.”
She gasps.
“It’s a trick. M is testing me.” She takes a hand and reaches between her legs to stroke over her feminine folds. “I know it’s a game because he hasn’t come yet. He’s testing my loyalty to him. It never finishes until he orgasms. Please leave.” The girl turns away from me. “I won’t fail him. He can beat me black and blue, but I’m his. He won’t share me with another man, and I won’t go to one.”
“M?” I question. “Tell me about him.”
“You know about him. You must be a friend of his,” she snaps back at me.
“Ok.” I remain kneeling but lower my hands and place them on my legs. The fabric of my jeans is bunched up tightly around my muscular thighs. I must look imposing to this frightened girl, and like all men, in her eyes, capable of abominable things. Arthur sent me details of her file. She was stolen on a night out two years ago and sold that same night into the life she’s endured since then. We’ve managed to bring down most of the organization who stole her, but it’s taken us much longer to find all the girls that were trafficked. Megan was especially hard to locate, despite the fact she was in our backyard all along. She’s been well hidden and wasn’t brought into the country legally like some of the girls had been. She was smuggled in under the cover of darkness by someone with a lot of money and power. I know Arthur is trying to find out more about this M, but we have no leads on him so far. All I can hope
is he’s among the pile of dead bodies I’ve lined up outside this room.
We fall silent, both of us looking at each other.
“Why do you think I’m a friend of M?” I query.
“Why else would you be here, other than to hurt me?” Her reply is blunt, and an indication of how hard I’ll need to work to get her to trust me. She turns back to face me with a glare on her face this time. It excites me to know that all the fire hasn’t been beaten out of her. She’s angry with me because she thinks I’m part of a plan to inflict pain on her by her master.
“Why do you think I’m here to hurt you?”
“All men hurt women. They take what isn’t theirs and twist it…break it.” She holds out her arm, and I can see it’s been broken during her captivity and has not been fixed correctly. I wince. It must have been incredibly painful.
“Do you remember anything of your life before you were brought here?” I lower myself from my knees to a sitting position on the floor. “Did men hurt you then?”
She opens her mouth to no doubt shout at me, but quickly shuts it again and purses her lips together. I can tell that a good memory is flittering through her fragile mind.
“Tell me,” I encourage.
“I…” She hesitates and fiddles with the straggly ends of her hair. “My father. He used to take me to the swings at the park every Sunday morning. He worked really hard, and I didn’t really see him during the week, but Sunday morning was always our time.”
“He sounds like a really kind man. I didn’t spend that sort of time with my father.” I suppress the flash of a bad memory, which surfaces in my head. Now is not the time for me to face my demons. I see a small smile cross over Megan’s face at the memory. But, it disappears as quickly as it came, replaced once again by the thunder of her anger.
“I know what you’re doing. Trying to get me to open up to you, so I’ll leave the room with you, and then I can be punished with a beating.” Her brows furrow together in a stern scold.
“I’ve already told you I’m not here to hurt you. If you leave the room, nothing bad will happen to you. It’s up to you, though.” I push slowly up onto my feet. Megan scoots back against the headboard of the bed, and her eyes go wide again.
“I have a feeling we’re going to be here for a while. I’m going to get myself a drink. Do you fancy one?”
She shakes her head, so as I walk toward the door, I say, “Just call out if you change your mind.”
I then disappear through the doorway, making sure to leave it open and stand with my back pressed against the wall on the other side and listen into her room. As requested, Kay has come to help clean up, and just at that moment, he appears beside me with a bottle of water.
“How is she?” he mouths.
“Bad,” I respond and anger licks at the corner of his features. He nods and disappears. I’m sure he’s off to show some disrespect to the dead he’s gathered in the lounge. They’ll be dog food before the end of the day if we have our way. Mind you, that would be cruelty to dogs!
I open the bottle and drink while listening in on what is happening in the room. Eventually, I hear the bed creak and shortly after Megan’s head peeps around the corner. I‘m guessing the door has never been left open before.
“You sure you don’t want a drink?” I hold the bottle out to her.
“Where is he?”
“Who?” I play nonchalant.
“M”
“I’ve told you I don’t know him, but you insist I do. I’m afraid we have a big pile of bodies in the lounge. I’ve never seen a picture of M, though, so I couldn’t tell you which one he is. You’ll have to tell me.”
“Why are you doing this?” Megan brings a bit more of her body out of the room, and it’s then I notice the scars littering her skin as well as how painfully thin she is.
“I told you. I’m here to save you. If you don’t believe me, go back in the room and stay there. I’m going to go do my job.” Without looking back, I stride off down the hallway and around the corner. I pause a moment, listening for footsteps. Eventually, I hear them and continue into the lounge. Kay has the bodies lined up and is on the phone for a clean-up crew. He looks behind me when Megan appears around the corner, and she freezes to the spot.
“They’re dead.”
“Yes.” I turn around to face her. There’s a blanket on a nearby chair. I reach out for it and hold it out to her. She looks at me and then at the blanket.
“What is that for?” The question is simple and childlike. She has no idea why I’m offering her something to shield her nakedness from Kay’s and my view. Her mind has been trained in such a way that it doesn’t occur to her to worry about her body being on display. It concerns me that she may be too far gone to be returned to normality. I approach her again, slowly, and she doesn’t flinch this time. Her eyes follow my every step, though. I unfold the blanket and wrap it over her shoulders. She squirms as if it’s uncomfortable.
“It’s cold outside. I don’t want you to get a chill,” I tell her.
She looks at me strangely…a simple act of kindness, confusing her. I can tell from the flashes of concern I can see in her eyes she’s weighing up what it will cost her. She eventually settles and pulls the blanket a little farther around her but keeps fidgeting all the time. I wonder if the feeling of the blanket around her is an odd sensation after being naked for so long, and if it’s prickling at her delicate flesh. An overwhelming urge to bring her into my arms and tell her everything will be all right hits me in the chest. It takes my breath away, for a moment, and I stand rooted to the spot when she walks past me toward the bodies. Kay has covered their faces with sacks.
“I need to see him.”
Megan turns back to me, and my breath rushes back a stuttered response,“I-I-don’t know.”
Kay quirks an eyebrow at me. I’m never normally flustered, but something about Megan has left me spinning.
I cough and center myself.
“Some of the wounds aren’t pretty.”
Megan lowers the blanket a little, giving us a view of the scars and bite marks on her body, once again. Kay looks away. I know my friend well…his thoughts will be with his pregnant fiancée, Evelyn, and how he would feel if this were her.
“I think nothing hidden under those bags can affect me now.”
“Ok.” I nod to Kay to unveil the identity of all the dead bodies. I stand back and watch Megan as she takes them all in. I see recollection as she looks upon a few of the faces, but there’s nothing to show that her tormentor has been revealed. The sack is pulled off the face of the last man, and Megan stumbles back. I push toward her, in an instant, because her expression isn’t that of someone coming face to face with the man who’s abused them. Her look is one of fear because that man isn’t laying amongst the dead in front of her.
“He’s not here?” Her breath quickens. “It’s a game. You’re playing with me.” She looks around the room waiting for M to appear.
“No.” Against my own better judgement, I grab hold of her arms. “I promise you I’m not part of any game.” I think quickly. She’s ready to fly back into her room, and any trust I’ve built with her will be gone. “Kay, get Arthur on the phone, now!” I order, and he does exactly as I ask. I’m still holding tightly to Megan despite the fact she’s struggling in my arms. Fearing what is about to happen to her, tears begin to fall down her cheeks.
“Kay?” Arthur answers, and my friend pushes the phone nearer to me, so I can speak into it. Megan stops and stares at the device between us in horror.
“We’ve got a problem. The head-honcho isn’t here.”
“What?” Arthur shouts down the phone, and Megan starts to struggle again, but I have her gripped tightly. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know, yet. We need a party out searching for him. Now!”
A few minutes tick by and then Arthur comes back on the phone.
“I’ve got people shutting down his escape routes. Seems he had a
plane at the airport ready to fly…had being the operative word. Tristan’s blown it up.”
“I bet he enjoyed that. He’ll be celebrating the fact he’s had the chance to destroy something that big, for a long time to come,” I chuckle.
“What about the girl?” Arthur asks.
“Please,” Megan whimpers as her legs give way. I drop to the floor with her, cushioning her fall.
“I’ve got her. She’s alive. She’s not in a good way, though. I need to get her somewhere safe.”
“Bring her to the mansion,” Arthur orders.
“No,” I respond instantly, knowing that will be the worst place for her with so many men coming and going. “I’m going to take her to my place.”
“Not a good idea,” he replies.
“It’s the only idea I have at the moment. I have to protect her, Uncle.” The words coming out of my mouth stun me with their urgency.
The line goes silent for a few moments before Arthur speaks again.
“Ok. We’ll talk later,” he says and then hangs up.
I take a few minutes to figure out what the fuck I am doing. Megan’s exhausted herself trying to escape. She’s placid in my arms, now, and I bring her in closer. I lean forward and whisper into her ear, “We’ll find him. I promise. You have to trust me.” She shifts, so she can look up at me.
“You’re here to save me?”
I nod.
“You won’t hurt me?”
This time I shake my head and respond, “No.”
Redemption: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 3