The Kidnapper's Brother: A Dark Criminal Romance

by Alice T. Boone

  I wasn’t anybody’s saviour.

  I wasn’t the one she’d have to beg for mercy.

  I was just another dead man walking.

  Chapter Three

  I’d never really believed in the God that Gran spoke so highly of, never understood the sermons. Now, with Toby’s disgusting breath on my neck, I could feel it. There had to be something other than this world of dirt. There had to be something waiting for me beyond this, had to be some reward for dying at a stranger’s alter.

  When you were faced with an ultimate evil, you had to believe in the ultimate good.

  When his hands landed on me again, kept my eyes closed. I tried to hold my breath, tried to focus on the pain in my foot instead of his filthy hands running over my body. Once his lips landed on my neck, leaving dark bruises with painful bites, even that would prove impossible. The only way this animal tasted any pleasure was when he tasted blood.

  “Bunny, baby, I can’t believe you’re here.”

  As my hands slipped to his chest, my grip on reality loosened. I was jumping in and out of a fantasy, of a world where all of this was just another nightmare. I grunted as I tried to push, tried to put some distance between us, but the creature hardly seemed to notice.

  “I wanna go home,” I finally squeaked. “Please. I just wanna go home.”

  “You are home.”

  “To my home,” I clarified, earning an inch or two of distance as he looked down on me. “To the place you took me from.”

  “What’re you talking about, baby?” Another chill ran through my system, another moment of panic as his hands drifted beneath my shirt and his lips fell to my ears. A growl of pleasure tore through him as his hands forced their way under my bra, brushing over my nipples as though he had any right to my body. “I brought you home, Bunny,” he sang. “Just like you wanted.”

  “I’m not…”

  As his hands drifted down to my ass, forcing his hard cock to brush against my jeans, my body froze. Once more, I drifted out of the world, out of my body, and back to the memories I hated the most. Bunny was a name I’d only used one place before— during a short stint at a suicide prevention hotline. I would have thought that when I’d heard Toby’s voice again, it would have been imprinted in my soul. When the first call came in, he told me his name was Toby Kent. I’d learn later that Kent was his mother’s maiden name, that Toby was still legally wearing his father’s Leos. Though, once I’d learned his real name, I hadn’t given it to the police— not even when the officer begged me. I’d called them twice about Toby: once when he started calling my cell phone and once when I came home to find my laundry raided, my panties stolen and returned the next week. When the calls stopped, when I moved in with Gran, I smothered memories of Toby as far as they would go.

  Toby’s should have been a voice I remembered.

  But then, how the hell was I supposed to remember something I worked so hard to block out?

  Panic slicked over my skin as I felt his erection pressing into me, as his lips moved back to my neck. His rough hands were back to my shoulders, angrily yanking down my top before focusing his attention on my bra. He didn’t pull up to watch me until he felt me squirm against his hardness, an attempted escape just another attempt at attention to a man like Toby. With the slightest space between us, I jerked my shirt back up over my breasts, but all that did was bring another inhuman growl from him. When his hand landed back on my throat, my lungs panicked. The man from before, the cheeky brunette, had only ever demanded obedience, patience from me. Toby’s hand on my throat only bought more fear. The last time he’d done it, the world faded to black.

  “Please, Toby.”

  My desperate plea forced him to lighten his grip, his grin brushing over my neck again.

  “I’m right here, baby.”

  “No,” I grunted, my hands on his chest again. “Toby, please don’t do this. I just want to go home.”

  “You are home, ba—”

  “My home.” The clarification only pushed him further, brought out another monster I couldn’t handle. His eyes darkened as his jaw tightened, and his fingers knotted into the back of my hair. As he straightened up, Toby tugged my hair with him, and his rough hands worked to wipe my spilled tears, to quiet my sobs. “I want to go to my home.”

  “Why?”

  I wanted to choke out that I was frightened, that I couldn’t give him what he wanted, that I couldn’t take away the pain he so often called me complaining about. No one could take away that ache. When I watched him shift into a pattern I was already desperate to forget, my lips zipped shut. I should have known better than to think he’d abandoned me in order to seek professional help. I should have known better than to think he’d ever stop looking for me. I should have moved once Gran died.

  “Tell me there’s no one else, baby,” he snarled, his grip on my hair tightening. “I don’t think I could survive you fucking someone else, Bunny.”

  “No! No.”

  A momentary relief lightened the pain in my head. His lips journeyed back down to my neck, to my ear, but it was the hand that worked on my jeans that filled me with fear. He couldn’t even notice the pleas that fell from my lips, the way my hands worked to pry his fingers away from my core.

  “Were you waiting for me, Bunny?” Toby hummed. “Were you a good girl for me?”

  While I wasn’t enough to demand his consideration, a noise from the basement would be. The slamming of a door, the scraping of a chair, the raise in a voice commanded his attention, and a string of curses flew from his mouth. Between my sobs, I mumbled out every prayer of gratitude I knew. Toby climbed off of me in a hurry, adjusting his jeans, his stiff cock, before rushing towards the door. I was certain he barked for me to stay in place, for me to wait until he came back, but as my sobs filled the room, I couldn’t hear much of anything.

  Looking back, the only reason I picked the name Bunny was because I related to the tiny creatures. I knew I was nothing but a timid vegetarian, but when my eyes finally landed on the open door in front of me, I tried to lie to myself.

  If you stay here, he won’t stop.

  If you stay here, Lilah, you’ll die here.

  All that was left was to be brave, and if a holy spirit had left a door open for me, I had to take it— even if it was on painful, shaking legs. Once I heard Toby descend the stairs, I followed the only instinct I had left. Once I heard Toby descend the stairs, I made a break for the only open door.

  When he’d dragged me into the house, I was barely conscious. My instincts told me to fight, to cry, to scream out for help, but nothing inside told me to pay attention to the details. Now that I was in the hallway, I couldn’t help but notice everything. The walls of the worn house were bare, save for a few spots of mold and the reek of stale cigarettes. Wooden floors were worn and damaged, an old runner the only thing to lead me towards the staircase at the end of the hall. It was only when I was at the top of the stairs that the screams from the floor below me started to make sense.

  “Don’t go!” Toby shouted, followed by a rush of his footsteps. “Talk to him, Alex!”

  Alex was a name Toby had willfully left out, but I had to assume it was the man’s older brother— the subject of just about every late-night call. The two had been together since they were young, abandoned by their mother and the elder brother acting as the only source of care they had in the world.

  At one time, I felt sorry for them.

  “He’s not staying here,” Alex responded simply.

  “Get your bitch on a leash,” Jax bit back, his voice trailing from the other end of the house.

  “How about you—”

  “Alex!” Toby snarled, his voice lowering. “Don’t fuck this up for me.”

  “Me? You think I’m fucking this up?”

  “He’ll do it,” Toby shouted, footsteps leading him back to the other end of the house.

  “Like fuck I will.”

  “You want him to make this shit? He’ll make it,�
� Toby promised. “And we’ll get it to you by the end of the month.” When an answer wouldn’t come, I could almost feel Toby’s panic. He’d never understood boundaries, never trusted his patience. “I’ll deliver it personally, Jax.”

  “Don’t fuck this up,” the stranger snarled.

  “We won’t.”

  At the sound of a door closing, I fooled myself once more. I’d disguise my next act of stupidity as one of bravery, of cunning. Zipping my ribs shut and rounding up any courage I had left, I ventured further down the stairs. Crouching allowed me to take a peek through the house, and an open floor plan gave me a straight shot to the door. While my heart begged me to pay attention to the two brothers who crossed in front of me, one chasing the other into the kitchen, my eyes could only rest on the crack of moonlight pouring in through the heavy door.

  Jax had left it open, unlocked.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Toby hissed, his anger giving me the smallest amount of cover as I screwed my courage. “You know how long we worked for this?”

  “We worked for this?”

  “Who got you in touch with him!?”

  Toby’s scream shook my ear drums, and the tightening of my stomach reminded me why this was so important. Staying here with Toby was a death sentence. His obsession only ever bred a deadly dependence. As his anger blinded him, I squared my jaw. Just one break, one moment, and I’d have everything I needed.

  The door was open.

  “You’re gonna sit here and treat me like I’m just some fuck who collects your money? I work.”

  “When the fuck have you ever—”

  All sound cut as I rushed towards the door. I skipped every step possible, gave myself the headway I needed as I skirted along the wall and made a race for the front door. The heavy wood felt impossibly light as I threw it open, a screech of victory pulled away from me before it could ever truly live. By the time I’d stepped out onto the front porch, my freedom was torn away from me again, and with his sick scent filling my nostrils, I couldn’t help but scream.

  With Toby, everything had a habit of moving so quickly. It only took one phone call for strangers to become friends, two for him to decide I was the woman who’d bear his children. It only took seconds for me to live in the possibility of it all, another two to feel the loss sink in around me.

  Tears made it impossible to see, but I was certain I could make out Alex at the door, locking the thing in place before taking a careful peek out the window. Toby’s cries of pain could be heard just above my screams, above my begging for him to let me go. His forearm dug painfully into my ribs, and when my fingernails made it impossible for him to carry me any further, his fingers were knotted in my hair again.

  “What the fuck did I tell you!?” Alex snarled, following close enough behind us for me to smell his cinnamon cologne.

  “Shut up!”

  “If those shithead cops trailing Jax saw her, we’d both be screwed!” Through blurred vision, I could make out Alex’s careful glance at me, another sob bubbling forward as Toby dragged me up the stairs and back to my coffin. “You can’t control her, Toby!”

  “Shut up!” His snarl could have cut flesh. With a final throw, the man tossed me into the room, another screech leaving my lungs as I doubled over to grab at my injured foot. Not that any of it mattered anymore. Before I could examine the reopened wounds, he was already on top of me, his hand smothering out what little oxygen I could find. “I said shut the fuck up!”

  “Toby, stop.”

  Alex’s growl, his hand on Toby’s shoulder, bought me a moment of freedom, and I choked out the only plea that I thought would work.

  “I’m sorry, Toby!”

  “You ain’t nothin’ yet.”

  “Toby!”

  This time, I’d run out of tears. The fear had a way of heightening everything, of making the entire scene sicker. His greedy fingers bruised my arm as he dragged me across the floor, leaving my face pressing into the old wood as I prepared for the thing he’d been dreaming about most. I kept my eyes shut as I heard the sound of his buckle, the snarl building in Alex’s chest as the leather slipped through each belt loop. Then, a white pain colored everything I’d ever known. The only thing that dampened my screech was my teeth biting painfully into my lip, but it wouldn’t be enough for the second impact of his belt. The force tore the skin on my back, one last scream filling the room before Alex finally stepped in.

  “Get the fuck off me!”

  When I found the strength to peek my eyes open, I glanced to the two men to my left, the brothers locked in a dangerous game. While Toby’s shoulders raised to his ears, his back curving painfully, Alex remained firm, strong, a gentle hand when his brother needed it most.

  “Not like this, Toby,” he finally conceded.

  Moments passed like hours, release only coming when a new kind of chill filled the room. I watched Alex soften before Toby dropped the belt, the brother sensing the calm before I ever could, and while I wanted to believe that this was all over, Toby’s inability to look at me told me it was far from. The man’s teeth cracked as he rooted through his nightstand, pulling out a pair of silver cuffs before tugging me back up onto the bed. The pleas that fell from my mouth were unintelligible at this point, nonsensical and repetitive as Toby locked me into place on his bedframe.

  “You’re not sleeping here tonight.”

  Alex’s order tightened Toby’s muscles again, but as his eyes trailed down my body, he seemed to relax some. His hand drifted over exposed skin, danced along my breasts before I could tear myself away. Alex wouldn’t speak again until I shifted my position in the bed, pressing my back against the headboard and stealing a look at the only man capable of giving me a moment’s rest.

  “One week,” Alex rushed, finally turning Toby’s head to the side. “You sleep on the couch, and tomorrow, go see that prick and tell him I’ll have his shit ready in one week.”

  Chapter Four

  After two hours, I still wasn’t sure if it was the scent of food or the reek of death that made my stomach churn. In that house, they smelt the same. The quiet that once calmed me was now chewing away at me— another lost sanctuary. With the ghosts that roamed the halls, I’d never truly be alone anyway, and the living had no business interacting with the dead. Maybe that was why I’d spent two hours cleaning every inch of the kitchen, pulling out the fridge, digging the floor wax out from beneath the sink. Maybe that was why it felt so fucking wrong to be in the same house as her.

  I had called in my order for the parts I needed yesterday afternoon, checking in on them twice that morning. I had finished washing smoke-stained walls, bleaching the disgusting kitchen counters. I had organized and reorganized the closet off the entranceway, and still, no part of me felt any better. The only thing that could take my eyes off of that awful door, the one that seemed to weep of the corner of the kitchen, was to take in the gentle noises that came from the top of the stairs.

  After hour two, I wasn’t sure which hell was worse.

  When the timer on my phone finally buzzed, I flew across the kitchen at record-breaking speed. The only things Toby had left in the fridge were some frozen crab cakes and a handful of veggies— not that that was surprising. Toby’s ability to scavenge started and ended with what he could fit in his nose, and while I wanted to be annoyed with him, practicality came above all else. I was half-way through mopping the floors when the knocking upstairs became impossible to ignore, and when I went to investigate, when the woman finally revealed that she was starving, shitty crab cakes was the only real option. So, I wouldn’t let myself feel guilty as I slid them onto a plate, as I tossed vegetables next to them.

  Though, I’d always been too much of a masochist to avoid it for too long.

  I’d spent the last 20 minutes assuring myself that this didn’t have to be the end of the world. I wouldn’t speak to the woman upstairs, wouldn’t feel sorry for her, wouldn’t be sickened by the blood on the wool of another sacrificial lamb.
I wasn’t stupid enough to get caught up between the two of them, but as I started up the stairs with a hot plate, even that was becoming harder to remember.

  It was hard to be around anything with a living soul.

  It had been so long since I’d been so close to something with a beating heart.

  I wouldn’t sleep when the woman was upstairs— my body wouldn’t let me. Downstairs lived that awful fucking door, the stench I would never get out of my lungs. Upstairs lived the sacrifice I had been all too willing to make. I could blame it on a lumpy couch, on not being able to crawl into bed when she was sobbing across the hall, on the annoying creeks that came from her shifting in my brother’s bed. I tried to blame it on anything, but when I finally opened the door, when I truly saw her for the first time in 48 hours, the lies felt useless. Guilt was the only reason I wouldn’t dare climb the stairs— even the frightened rabbit had to know that.

  She had sat herself on top of a pile of pillows from my brother’s bed, allowing her the slightest bit of movement from her chained position. Bruises Toby left still covered her face, but the purple marks didn’t do much to detract from her natural appeal. Knotted hair was a far cry from the slick ponytail she used to spot, and her wrinkled clothes wouldn’t accentuate the curves they normally did. Still, even from our pit of hell, I found myself getting caught on her dark eyes, on the smattering of freckles along her cheeks, on the perfectly imperfect birthmark along her neck. As desperately as I wanted to remember her the way she looked when Toby dragged her into the house, I couldn’t help but see her as the same woman Toby dragged me to see weeks before, the one I had watched from outside her bedroom window.

  What the fuck have I become?

  Her dark eyes lingered on my face for a moment, jumping to the food in my hand the next. It was the prickle of jealousy that brought my body back to life. My chin tilted in acknowledgement of her, but I wouldn’t offer the brunette much else. Tired legs made the trip across the room feel like miles, and whatever numbness I had managed to find was gone by the time I’d finally made it over to her. With my eyes desperate to find anything to distract from her attention, all I found were more reasons to dig two graves. Beside the bed lay Toby’s discarded leather belt— the sight of which just made my skin crawl. When bile built in my stomach, I refused to look at her, dropping the food in her lap without much of a thought and forcing myself back towards the door.