Suddenly she froze. There was a change in the room, she could sense something – someone. When cold fingers touched her face, she whimpered. Her ears were unplugged.
‘Ssh,’ a whispered male voice, gravelly, muffled, disguised. ‘Don’t struggle or I’ll put a bullet in you. Nod your head if you understand.’
She nodded.
‘Good.’ Her abductor stripped the tape away from her mouth, and she gasped. A drinking straw was placed between her teeth. ‘Sip.’
She did, the swirl of fresh cold water was blissful in her mouth.
‘Good girl.’
He hauled her into a sitting position and took her blindfold off. He was dressed in head to toe black, a balaclava covering his head and a mask, a dumb goat’s head mask. She blinked a couple of times, realized her left eye was sticky with blood. Her abductor – Goaty - brought a bowl of warm water and washcloth and gently washed her face. She saw the water turn red and felt a wave of dizziness.
‘It’s a pretty nasty cut, pretty girl. You shouldn’t have fought me so hard.’
Her mouth was dry again. ‘Who are you?’
Goaty said nothing, just continued to clean her wound. Now her eyes were used to the light, she saw she was in a bedroom – and a pretty plush room at that. She was confused – she had expected a broken down shack or somewhere – not this. The ceiling was high, at least double what she was used to in modern homes, the windows large – and barred. The bed she was sitting on was huge, king size, swathed in mosquito netting, the sheets pearly white and new, the pillows plump and comfortable. There was a vanity unit, and now she saw a small room leading off – a bathroom. Against the far wall, were boxes and boxes of food and toiletries, bottles of water stacked up as if someone was stockpiling for the end of the world. The room itself was huge, beautifully decorated. Goaty finished his cleaning and followed her gaze.
‘You like?’
She didn’t answer, just stared back at him for a long moment then looked away. On the nightstand, a gun with a silencer screwed onto the muzzle. She felt sick.
‘This room is your new home, princess,’ he said, and she cringed at the sing-song, creepy way he spoke, neither male nor female, barely human. ‘At least until I decided it’s time to kill you.’ He picked up the gun and pressed it to her belly. ‘Bang, bang, bang,’ he said and chuckled, putting the gun back down. He nodded to the door. ‘The door is reinforced steel, the windows are barred and alarmed, and you are being watched all the time.’
He tipped her chin up with his finger, and she saw in the far corner of the ceiling, the telltale red blink of a camera. ‘There is no possible means for you to escape, my lovely Cosima. You will die here. But in the meantime, you must enjoy the time you have left. There’s plenty of food – I’m afraid it’s all cold, can’t risk you burning down the place or trying anything stupid but there is a small refrigerator in the bathroom there. I’ll bring you fresh fruit and produce if you behave, otherwise you’ll be living on crackers and cold soup.’
He cupped her chin with his hand, making her look at him. ‘There are some clean clothes for you and you can wash things in the sink. I will come to visit you, and you will be gracious and thankful for every day I choose to keep you alive. You will give me whatever I want, princess, do you understand?’
She stared at him, the dizziness in her head not enough for her to misunderstand his meaning. So she was here as his sex toy for as long as he kept her alive. Oh god…
‘Kill me now,’ she whispered. ‘Kill me because I’m never going to give you what you want.’
He chuckled. ‘Yes, you will, my beautiful Cosima. You will give me everything.’
Hot tears of anger spilled down her cheeks. ‘Why? Why are you doing this?’
His hand went to the nape of her neck and fisted the hair back there, holding her head rigid. She winced at the sharp pain of her hair being pulled, but Goaty leaned in, nuzzling her neck.
‘Because I can,’ he whispered, and he pushed the mask upwards so he could grind his lips onto hers, rough, violent. Cosima tasted blood.
He released her, laughing, pulling the mask down before she could get a glimpse of his face. ‘I’m going to go. Turn over, lay on your belly, and I’ll release your hands and feet. Try anything and I’ll empty this gun into you.’
She complied, giving an involuntary sigh of relief when her hands and feet were freed. Goaty rolled her back onto her back, and stood over, pointing the gun at her belly. ‘There will be no point screaming. There’s no-one around to hear you, Cosima. There will be no-one to hear you beg for your life the day I come to kill you – although I might just record your murder and send it to your bastard lover. Won’t that be a treat for him?’
‘You are a sick fuck,’ she said, finally, her voice scratchy, her throat dry. Her abductor bowed mockingly.
‘Next time I visit, Cosima…we’ll have a little fun.’
He went to the door and opened it, and she saw it was indeed thick steel. Her heart thudded as it slammed shut, and she heard the deadbolts lock. As soon as she heard his car start outside the window, she was up, off the bed and running to the little bathroom where she did what she had wanted to do as soon as she awoke to this nightmare.
She threw up.
Harpa tried calling her sister again when she went on her break that night. She told herself it was okay, that Cosima was probably busy with organizing the opening of the hotel. Harpa wanted to know what day Cosima wanted her to fly back to New Orleans to attend – she’d already cleared it with Stan, and now, she was wondering, could she bring Mikah? She hadn’t asked him yet, but more and more, she wanted to be there with him, for him to meet her beloved sister, to say hello again to Arlo – my family. Her heart warmed at the thought; her sister and her almost brother.
Her mind briefly drifted to her mother in London. It had been years since Monica Lascelles had bothered to call or write her daughters. Harpa knew Monica didn’t even know they’d left New York and she didn’t care; her mother had been nothing but a burden to them. Cosima had been Harpa’s mother for most of her formative years, despite there only being two years between them. Monica didn’t even care that there had been a bounty on her daughters’ heads since Arjun’s murder. She was devoid of any mothering instinct, and Harpa wondered again how they could have been born of her. Especially Cos, she thought now, she has such a big heart whereas I can be a little ruthless if I want. Yeah, yeah, kid yourself, she smirked.
She went back to her station in the kitchen and busied herself with prep and didn’t see Sean and Tony enter and chat quietly with Stan until she was making the spice paste for her dish. She smiled at them.
‘Hey you two, got too hungry?’
Tony looked uncomfortable, but Sean grinned. ‘You know it. Listen, can we have a quick word?’
She beckoned them over to a quiet corner. ‘What is it?’
‘You may see an increased security presence over the next couple of days. Nothing to worry about, just a precaution.’ Tony’s voice was low, and Harpa’s heart began to thud.
‘Is this why Cosima’s gone radio silent? What’s going on?’
Sean and Tony looked at her. ‘Something like that. Just some undesirables flew into the country so we’re keeping an eye out that’s all. I’m sure Cosima will call you when she can.’
Harpa felt a little sick but nodded. ‘Okay, I get it. Can I still hang out with Mikah?’
‘Of course,’ Sean said, patting her arm, ‘There just might be extra security around his building. Does he know about your situation?’
She shook her head. ‘I know I should tell him but I don’t want to freak him out yet.’
Sean and Tony exchanged glances. ‘Maybe you should tell him,’ Tony said softly. ‘If we need to extract you fast then it could get difficult.’
She blew out her cheeks. ‘Okay. I’ll think about it.’
But later, when Mikah came to collect her and drive her back to his place, she couldn’t do it, couldn’t
sully his good mood, his romantic plans for them. Instead, they ate the leftovers she brought home straight from the foil dish, sitting at his breakfast bar, then showered together.
Mikah ran his fingers through her wet hair. ‘Have I told you how beautiful you are today?’
She grinned, tipping her face up for a kiss then spluttering at the water hit her full force in the face. ‘Didn’t think that through, did I?’ She laughed, and he cranked the water off.
‘Let’s get dirty again,’ he said in a low growl, and her whole body responded.
‘Let’s…’
He lifted one of her legs up high and pressed her against the cool tile of the shower. He dropped to his knees, hooking her leg over his shoulder. His fingers found her sex and he gently spread the folds of her labia, his tongue sweeping up her cleft to her clit. Harpa shuddered as he made contact, sucking and nibbling at the small nub until it grew hard and red, her cunt swelling and pulsing as he attended to her.
Harpa moaned, and she felt his mouth curve up in a smile. ‘You like that, pretty girl?’
She nodded, breathless and he gave a low chuckle. He scooped her into his arm and carried her to his bed. ‘Then we’ll just have to keep doing it…’
He went down on her again, and as he worked her clit, his long, thick fingers slid inside her, rubbing, massaging, finding that tender spot inside her, her sex growing moist as he worked. Harpa felt a frenzy of ecstasy screaming through every cell in her body as she shivered through an orgasm and then his mouth was on hers, and his titanium-hard cock was plunged deep into her swollen cunt, hard. He pushed her knees to her chest, sinking balls-deep into her and she smiled up at him as he drove himself into her, almost violently, the need and desire on his face as thrilling as the feel of his cock nailing her to the bed.
Her fingernails dug into his buttocks willing him deeper, deeper with every stroke; his cock seemed to get bigger, thicker, her vagina stretching to accommodate his size.
Mikah kissed her thoroughly as they fucked, and she loved how he could be so rough, so masculine while being so tender. She’d never experienced that in a lover before, and the way her body reacted to him was a revelation to her. At the slightest touch, her skin would flame, her sex would pulse and swell, her heart would clatter loud enough so she thought he might hear it.
Now, he groaned as he came, his thick cock jerking, spilling his seed into her belly. Harpa arched her back, feeling her belly against his as she reached her own climax then fell exhausted to the bed. They both were breathless but Harpa, grinning, climbed down his body. ‘Your turn, big guy,’ and she took his still hard cock into her warm, ready mouth, suckling at the salty remnants of his cum, teasing the tip, fisting the root with her hands until he was shuddering and groaning under touch, coming again quickly, shooting onto her waiting tongue.
Afterward, they lay, sleep coming over them, murmuring to each other. Harpa had just fallen asleep when she heard her cell phone buzz. She ignored it at first, letting the call go to voicemail but when it rang again, she rolled out of bed, groaning and went to find her purse.
Mikah, awoken, followed her and she smiled at him apologetically as she grabbed her phone. ‘Sorry baby. Hello?’ She recoiled in shock. ‘Mom? Is that you?’
Her mother was crying hysterically, and Harpa could only make out the words Cosima…and knife. Oh god, oh please, no…
‘Mom! Calm down! Has something happened to Cos?’ She listened as her mother tried to explain. ‘What video?’
Mikah watched his lover as she spoke to her mother, a myriad of emotions on her face. Fear. Sadness. Irritation. Then a blankness.
‘I see,’ Harpa said. ‘Yes. I’ll call him. Yes, I’ll call you back, Mom, what’s your number there? Oh, of course, yes. Give me a half hour.’
She ended the call and just sat there for a second, staring at the floor. When she looked up, her face was set, angry. ‘I have to go home.’
Mikah frowned. ‘What’s going on, Harp? Is everything okay? Is your sister…’
‘I have to go home.’ She scrambled to her feet and skittered into the bedroom, pulling on her clothes. Mikah pulled his jeans on.
‘Of course, I’ll take you but - ‘
‘It’s okay, I have a ride.’
‘What…wait? Harpa, what the hell’s going on?’
She was at the apartment door now, and she turned and looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, Mikah, you don’t want any part of this…I’m sorry.’
Mikah stepped towards her. ‘Talk to me,’ he said fervently, his hand reached out towards her. Her eyes filled with tears.
‘I can’t,’ she whispered and then she was gone. Mikah stood in the middle of his apartment, not believing what had just happened. What the actual fuck? He thought about following her, but she clearly wanted to be alone…instead, he went to the window in time to see her crossing the street and getting into a black sedan. It pulled away from the curb followed a second later by a second car.
Mikah shook his head. I do not understand what just happened here. He glanced at the clock. Ten after three. Exhaustion was setting in, he could feel his body drooping, but his mind was in overdrive. He rubbed his face then went to grab a bottle of water from the cooler. He had to be up in three hours for a meeting, and he hadn’t minded about the lateness of the hour when Harpa was here, and he was buried deep inside her velvety soft body.
What the hell? He asked himself for the hundredth time. Think. Think. He grabbed his laptop and fired it up, glanced at his calendar for the day. Underneath the morning meeting, he blanked out the rest of the day and wrote eight words in capital letters.
FIND OUT WHO THE HELL HARPA BEDI IS.
Someone was banging on the penthouse’s door. Arlo, who hadn’t slept, opened it to see Jake, grim-faced. ‘Harpa called me, hysterical. Her mother – her mother, of all people – rang her to tell her about the video. She wanted to know why the hell you or I or Cosima hadn’t told her about the attack. Has she tried to call here?’
Arlo nodded. ‘I didn’t pick up,’ he sighed and stepped aside to let Jack in. ‘I didn’t know what to say to her, and I knew she’d ask where Cos was…so I funked it.’
Jack studied him. ‘You look like shit.’
‘Tell me about it? Any news, anything?’
Jack shook his head, and Arlo groaned. ‘I cannot just sit here and do nothing, Jack, I’m going crazy.’
‘You’re not going to do nothing. You’re coming with me to Seattle. We need to tell Harpa before the press gets hold of it. Get in the shower, Forrester, we leave in an hour.’
Cosima sat up in bed, a panic attack beginning to build inside her. It wasn’t a new occurrence; she’d been woken by them ever since the Goat had last been there. From her reckoning it had been seven days since he brought her here and in that time he had visited twice, each time threatening her, telling her what he wanted to do to her. Still concussed, she had pretended to be asleep on one occasion until he’d laid on top of her then she’d panicked and bucked to get him off only to be met with mocking laughter. She’d gone through the entire place looking for a way out or something she could use as a weapon. But he’d been thorough. The camera blinked, constantly reminding her she was being watched all the time; she wondered if he had accomplices. Probably, she decided and made herself feel better by periodically making obscene gestures to the camera. Well, he did say she was going to die here, so what difference did it make? The only good thing when he visited was that he brought hot food for her, and had so far, not forced himself on her. She knew it was only a matter of time.
There was a camera in the bathroom too, but she found if she ran a bath instead of showering, she could turn her back on him – plus a soak gave her something to do except stare out of the window. She was indeed in the bayou, she looked out onto trees heavy with Spanish moss and in the distance she could see the swamp, fizzing with mosquitoes and bugs. In the evening, she would sit on the window seat and watch the fireflies. It was better than trying to escape,
getting nowhere and screaming – although she still did that too.
Tonight, her throat felt scratchy and raw from screaming. She ate a few Saltines and some fruit from a plastic cup and dug around in the small pile of paperback books he’d left. No, Harry Potter, she thought with a pang, then remembered she’d been reading ‘Prisoner of Azkaban’ the night she’d meet Arlo in the Maldives.
God, that night…they’d walked back to her little villa which stood out in the ocean and made love all night and it had been a revelation to her, for once losing all her inhibitions, enjoying her own body as much as his, completely giving herself over to the sensual pleasure. She had never experienced anything so animal and yet so tender, so masterful and yet there was a vulnerability there too, from both of them. A true connection, a trust was built on that first night that had been built on in the months they had been together. She closed her eyes now and thought about Arlo, naked, all viral male, his broad shoulders, that hard, hard chest, the defined abs, the slim hips, and his long, thick cock. Cosima moaned and rolled over onto her stomach, curling herself up into a ball. That last night with him, one of their last nights as sole occupants of the hotel, had been the most exciting, the most adventurous yet.
She had promised him they would play with her box of treats, and they did; silken rope to bind each other, dildos, vibrators, paddles. They experimented freely with them, always taking care that the other was open to the kind of thing they were trying. Cosima found she loved to be bound while he fucked her; Arlo loved it when she used a vibrator on his ass while she sucked him. Not everything worked, of course, and they had many times when they would fall about laughing. Such perfect trust, perfect love. Joy. She remembered what Harpa had said to her those months ago; that now her life had joy…maybe this was the price she was paying for that happiness.
TORN: A Billionaire Romance Series (Contemporary Romance Novel) Page 13