by Harlem Dae
The image of a man, dark-skinned, sleek black hair seemingly pulled back into a ponytail, and with a moustache and goatee beard, stared at me. His mouth was way too wide for his face, his lips thick.
“That is not the girl,” he said, frowning.
“No, this is better, Boss. This is Rupert Montague-Fostrop’s daughter.”
There was a pause. “You found her?” He nodded and raised his eyebrows. “Good.”
“I found them,” I said, folding my arms and tipping my chin.
“Ah, I see.” His mouth twitched, almost as though he was amused by my response.
That annoyed the hell of me, and heat travelled over my chest and up my throat despite the chill.
“Where is my father?” I asked. “Let me see him.”
“Sweet little senora, I am in charge, not you. In case you haven’t noticed, you are our prisoner.”
“And whose prisoner am I? I think I deserve to know that.”
He inclined his head, giving the impression of a man of fairness, yet I knew damn well he was no such thing. “I am Fabian Emmanual, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“I can’t say the same about you. There’s a million other places I’d rather be than in this shit hole.”
Rick walked up behind me and smoothed his hand over my hair.
“Get the fuck off,” I said, shifting rapidly forward. “Pervert.”
Fabian chuckled. “I apologise for my uncouth staff. That is what happens when I recruit from London.”
“Yes, well,” I said. “The sooner I’m on my way the better. What do you want with me?”
“Nothing, actually.” He shrugged.
I was silent.
“It’s what I want from your father that’s important.” He turned from me and gestured to something at his left. “Get Montague-Fostrop on the other line for me.”
Oh, God. Father? Now?
I blinked rapidly. A gush of emotions tumbled through me. It had been so long since I’d seen him. Months. And now…like this?
Fabian held another screen up, and my father’s image filled it.
“Claudine?” Father leaned forward. “What…?” He was clearly confused.
“Ah, good to see you,” Fabian said, twisting the iPad he was holding.
We were in an odd three-way Facetime conversation.
Jan nodded to Rick as though giving him a signal to do something.
The cool point of a gun pressed against my temple. I knew it was a gun, I could see it on the small image of myself at the bottom of the screen.
A revolting metallic taste filled my mouth, and my heart rate trebled.
They won’t kill me.
They won’t kill me.
I said that over and over as Fabian and my father spoke, their words sounding fuzzy, as though said underwater.
“So you see.” Fabian’s voice pierced my mantra. “You really have no choice but to deliver the goods.”
I was going to be sick, I was sure I was.
My father’s image appeared before me again. His eyes widened, and his mouth slackened. “Claudine. No, fuck. I swear, if you hurt her I’ll…”
“What?” Fabian grinned. “Shoot me up with those guns of yours?”
“I’ll…”
I held back a sob. A tear trickled down my cheek, leaving a wet track.
The fire crackled. Jan stared at me and held the tablet a few feet away. Rick’s revolting smell surrounded me.
All I could think of was the bullet primed and aimed at my brain.
But rather me than Guilia.
“What you’re going to do,” Fabian said calmly, “is deliver the goods to me as we originally planned.”
“The original deal didn’t include landmines,” my father said, “or an army manned by child soldiers.”
“What concern is it of yours who holds the guns you sell?”
Rick jabbed the gun harder against my head.
My neck jarred.
My father grimaced as he stared intently at me.
“Or,” Fabian went on, “what the original deal was. I’ve changed my mind, end of story. Business is an evolving game, is it not?”
“The guns, not the mines,” my father said. “I won’t sell you mines that will kill innocents.”
I wanted to shake him, really I did. Why the hell wasn’t he just giving Fabian what he wanted?
“I want the mines,” Fabian said. “Don’t I, Rick?”
“Yeah,” Rick said. Without taking the pressure from the point of the gun from my temple, he ran his other hand over my cheek. He slipped it down the column of my throat, to the buttons on my coat. Slowly, he undid it, exposing my sweater.
I trembled. His nearness was revolting.
“You have a beautiful daughter,” Rick said to my father, the image of his face not quite on the screen. “Very sexy.”
“Get the hell off her,” my father growled.
“Daddy,” I said, the word scratching my throat. “Please.”
“Get off her or I will hunt you down and kill you. I swear on my life, you touch her…”
But Rick was already touching me—he’d shoved his hand down the neckline of my sweater and was cupping my breast.
I recoiled from his touch, but the gun jabbed at me again. There was nothing for it but to sit deathly still and tolerate his mauling fingers.
I whimpered.
“You gonna watch?” Rick asked my father. “As I fuck her? Fuck her mouth, her pussy, her sweet tight arse?”
Father shivered. “Carry on like that and…”
Rick laughed. “I’m so fucking hard for her. What do you think, Boss? You want me to make her scream as I tear her in two?”
“No!” my father shouted. “No, I’ll do whatever you want. Don’t touch my daughter.”
“Very wise,” Fabian said. “Rick, leave the senora’s tits and arse be while we work out the details of our deal. But keep her there. If Rupert forgets to co-operate you might get your fun after all.”
He leant forward and winked at me, then the screen went blank, leaving me alone with my two captors and my father’s horrified face filling my mind’s eye.
Rick didn’t move his hand.
“Get off,” I said, wanting to push and shove but not daring to. One flick of his finger and it would be all over for me.
“Nah, I like your titties. Wanna play, too, Jan?”
“Have at it,” Jan said, setting down the tablet. He poured another drink then sat by the fire. “I’ll watch.”
“You wanna watch me fuck her arse? See her take it all?”
“You’re sick, both of you.” I squirmed and curled my toes in my boots. “This isn’t the deal, you have to leave me alone. My father agreed to do what Fabian wanted.”
“Yeah, well. No one will have to know.” Rick took the gun from my head, but, quick as a flash, circled his hand around my neck. “Except us. You’ll have the memories of my dick ramming into every hole you’ve got for the rest of your life.”
I heaved, my throat contracting against his hand, but there was nothing in my stomach. Adrenaline spurted into my system, and I reached for his wrist and tugged.
He dropped his head to speak into my ear, his stubbled chin scratching my face. “Yeah, that’s it, fight me, baby, that yanks my chain. Fight me till you pass out. I love that.”
A shadow.
A glimmer of something.
At the window behind Jan.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I looked into Rick’s eyes to keep his focus on me. I didn’t want him distracted, turning, able to see that shadow. A shadow I prayed was Sutton’s, but really, so long as it was anyone who could help me, it didn’t matter who it belonged to. I’d take the cabin’s cleaning lady if one existed.
Rick tightened his grip on my neck. The ends of his fingers bit deep, nails probably leaving crescents. The span of flesh between his thumb and pointer finger was tight over my throat. My ears buzzed, and I went light-headed for a second, bli
nking to give me something else to cling to other than me fainting.
“I could snap this, you know that?” he said. “Squeeze just a little bit more and you’d be well and truly fucked.”
Keep talking. Please, keep talking so I’m not fucked the other way.
I sat still, refusing to fight him like I suspected he wanted. If he got off on a woman battling for her life, he’d be more likely to rape me quicker. Remaining inert would mean he’d have to bait me into squirming and showing my repulsion. That would take up some more time—and time was what I needed. Whoever was outside had hopefully seen through the window. What person in their right mind, if they saw two thugs, one with their hand around a woman’s neck, would walk away?
They might walk away, scared, but surely they’d call for help.
I had to believe that would be the case, otherwise I—
Don’t think about that.
“Rick, just get on with doing her, will you? I’m getting bored waiting,” Jan said.
Shit. Conflicting emotions went through me. Should I try to run now, heading for the forest, instead of what I already had in mind? Or should I keep going in this vein and pray that the shadow would set me free? What if Jan got so bored he went to the window, spotted someone outside, then ran off to investigate? What if he killed whoever was out there?
It had better be you coming to save me, Sutton, or so help me God…
Rick turned back to look at Jan over his shoulder.
Fuck.
I moaned, and Rick snapped his head round to stare at me again.
“Oh, so you like this sort of thing, do you?” he asked me. “Enjoy a bit of the kinky stuff?”
I nodded. It hurt my throat, but what the hell, I had to keep their attention on me at all costs. A few more minutes should do it.
“Did you hear that, Jan?” Rick asked then licked his lips. Spittle gathered in the corners. “She’s into that erotic asphyxia business. You know, that thing we saw on that porno the other night. The one with that redheaded bird with the big tits and peachy arse.”
The idea of these two watching a porno together churned my stomach, but I hid my disgust with what I hoped was a sexy smile. An encouraging smile.
“Oh, fuck me sideways,” Jan said. “A real-life scenario right here.”
Jan came over to stand beside Rick. From the corner of my eye—I was still staring into Rick’s—I saw Jan had his cock out. The thing jutted through his open fly. My insides clenched, and I swallowed as best I could, feeling bile starting to rise. It burned my windpipe.
“Yeah, real-life is what this is.” Rick flared his nostrils. “Ah. I can smell the desire on her, can you?”
That wasn’t desire he could smell, it was outright fear, but I wasn’t about to let him in on that little fact. The less they knew about what was happening inside me, my nerves pinging all over the place, the better off I thought I’d be.
“Yeah. Desire. She wants us all right. Who wouldn’t?” Jan’s hand was moving rapidly in the vicinity of his midsection.
Don’t let what he’s doing bother you. Focus. Keep calm.
A frisson of loathing skittered through my body. Goosebumps sprang up, as did the hairs on my arms, the back of my neck, and the sides of my face. Everything in me prickled with apprehension.
“She’s shaking,” Jan said, trembling even more himself. “Shaking with wanting us, you reckon?”
“Yeah.” Rick took his hand from my throat.
The relief was instant. How I didn’t greedily suck a lungful of air in, I didn’t know. I calmly breathed, licking my lips to entice these two bastards further. My lungs were burning, my heart beating way too fast, and my throat was swelling, but I wasn’t about to let the small thing of not being able to breathe properly stop me from acting as though I wanted them.
Rick fumbled with his zip, yanking it down to expose his black boxer shorts and a revolting bulge beneath the fabric.
It’ll be okay. Get them revved up, distracted.
“Take off your coat,” Rick demanded.
I did so slowly and deliberately. I had to keep up the façade that I absolutely wanted this. The chill of the cabin seeped through my sweater with icy, cruel fingers, and my nipples perked as though I was aroused. It was from the cold, but if they thought otherwise, that was to my advantage.
“Would you look at them nips poking at her sweater.” Jan groaned. “I’m nearly there, so hurry up.”
The thought of him coming on me—he was so close to my body that he would—gave me another round of shivers, but better that it was on me than inside me. Rick’s, however—a different story. It had been obvious from the start that he intended to enter me.
“Get your jumper off and your tits out. Touch them,” Rick said. He rubbed his crotch.
I obeyed once again, moaning to give this insane game a touch of realism. If I thought of it as a game, one that would be ending soon, I could manage the fear. I dropped my sweater to the floor
Take one second at a time.
“So you like doing that as well, eh?” Rick said. “You like being strangled and playing with yourself.” He turned to grin at Jan. “I don’t want to kill this one, after all. I’m going to keep her for myself. You don’t get many up-for-it women like this to the dozen.”
“Boss won’t like it,” Jan panted out.
His rancid breath reached me, skating over my face. I shuddered again.
“I don’t care. He doesn’t have to know she’s not dead once he tells me to off her. Look at her, the way she’s messing with her titties. Loves it, she does.” Rick pulled his cock out and handled it roughly.
I dared not glance down at it. Instead, I partially closed my eyes and tilted my head back, as if I were enjoying every second of this sickening charade.
I strained my ears for sounds of Sutton about to break in, but heard nothing except Jan’s and Rick’s heavy breathing and the slaps of their hands on their groins.
What was Sutton doing? Had he even arrived? Had the shadow been a figment of my imagination?
Not for the first time, I thought of his abilities as a spy, his lack of common sense, and the way he handled things. My life was at stake here—which was fine if it meant my daughter was safe, but what if they went after Guilia next?
“I love your cocks,” I said loudly, for want of something diverting to say.
“I just bet you fucking do,” Rick said.
“Oh, God…” Jan jerked and slapped his free hand over the end of his erection.
“Never did have any stamina, did you?” Rick said. “Unlike me… I’m going to save taking you until later, woman. For now, I’m going to come all over your—“
A loud clatter barged rudely but so delightfully into his sentence, followed by the distinct sound of something smacking into a wall. Jan whipped his head in the direction of the front door, stuffing himself away into his jeans with one hand while reaching behind himself with his other, presumably for his gun. Rick was in the throes of coming, clearly unable to do anything other than jerk and spin his body to stare at the doorway, eyes wide, mouth gaping open.
I turned my head to see Sutton standing in the doorway, a blackened figure against the blinding white of the snow behind him. He held a gun in each hand, one pointing at Jan, the other at Rick. He fired one, and Jan went down, staggering in reverse until he hit the wall. A large petal and a scattering of smaller red blossoms seeped through his top, and he slid down to sit haphazardly, his cheek leaning on his shoulder, eyes opening and closing in slow motion, legs sticking straight out in front of him.
Another shot had my attention on Rick, who twisted to face me then careened forwards, arms outstretched. I lifted my hands, planting them on his chest to stop him from falling on me. Hot blood warmed my palm, and I wanted nothing but to be away from him, to clean my hand and get the fuck out of the cabin. Instead, I shoved—hard—and he flew backwards. Sutton was there then, landing a roundhouse kick to Rick’s chest that sent the man sprawling. Ric
k was down on his back inside a second, arms and legs akimbo, one foot twitching spasmodically. He shook his head as though surprised to find himself where he was, then lurched onto his feet.
I leapt from the chair and lunged at him, intent on clawing his face so he couldn’t see where he was going. Sutton got to him first, though, and with another savage kick to Rick’s flaccid cock, Sutton aimed to fire. Rick shouted something intelligible then sank to his knees, raising one hand while cupping his balls with the other.
“Don’t,” Rick said. “If you kill me, the boss will come after you.” His eyes watered, and mucous dribbled from his nose.
“He might have a gun.” My voice was strained. I grabbed my sweater and coat then backed away from the pair of them, my intention to leave the cabin and run as fast as I could, returning to the school so I could make sure Guilia was safe.
“I don’t give a shit about your boss,” Sutton said.
How ridiculous that the sound of his voice froze me where I stood. I leaned against the doorjamb, my desire to run suddenly gone, leaving me struggling to draw air into my lungs. I sank onto the ladder-back chair beside the door and quickly put on my sweater and coat.
Sutton planted the sole of his boot on Rick’s face and pushed. Rick fell onto his side, and Sutton was on him, holding the man’s arms down with his inner thighs while he patted him for a weapon. He found a gun and tossed it towards me. I reached out to pick it up.
I glanced at Jan, ready to use the gun on him if I had to, but his eyes were closed, and his chest had ceased moving. Rick was another matter. Despite the wound to his chest, he struggled beneath Sutton, spitting out garbled words that made no sense.
“Go outside and wait for me there,” Sutton said without turning to look at me.
I did as he’d asked, leaning my back to the cabin wall, the chill of the wood sending sharp ripples of ice down my spine. Two more shots. I closed my eyes, teeth chattering, and crossed my arms over my chest. What if it wasn’t Sutton who had fired them? What if Rick had had a concealed gun and he’d killed Sutton? I’d have to use my gun on Rick, then. I’d be a double murderer. Tears burned, but I was buggered if I’d let them fall. No, everything would be okay now, wouldn’t it? Sutton had fired the shots and he would come outside and tell me that Guilia was okay. I’d get hold of my father to make sure he’d done what Fabian Emmanual wanted, then we could all go back to how things had been before.