by Linnea May
“Yes, we are,” I let him know, adopting a strong stance while my probing gaze pierces him. “Nothing has changed.”
Chapter 23
Riley
Time definitely passes slower when he is not around—and I hate that. Of course, I hate everything about this situation, but what I hate the most is my own stupidity.
My stupidity for not telling my sister about this particular job interview because I was afraid I would jinx it. My stupidity for not telling a single soul about my plans when I left the house on that dreadful day. My stupidity for not taking into consideration that—as exciting as it sounded—there might be something off about Mr. Stanford and his peculiar job listing and the way he conducted his selection process.
I hate myself for being so careless. No one knows where I went that day, and it’s very likely that no one has even noticed my absence so far. Alena and I only talk about once a week, especially since she’s been married and floating through the blissful honeymoon phase with her new husband. I don’t blame her for it because I’m happy for them and it makes me sick that my idiotic behavior will eventually cause her a lot of sorrow. She has done more for me than any sister should ever have to do, and she deserves to finally live the carefree and happy life that she desires.
She shouldn’t have to worry about her stupid baby sister being kidnapped and used by a ruthless criminal.
A fucking attractive criminal who has turned my head with his irresistible charm and looks.
I hate that I’m so attracted to him, and so weak.
I know that everything he does with me is part of an elaborate plan to execute his revenge. Everything he says, everything he does—it all serves a purpose: to get me attached and bent to his actions. I know all of that, and yet, my body and heart ache for him in his absence.
How fucked up is that?
Why do I even believe him? Why am I so convinced that the story about his parents is true? It could be a big, fat—and ugly—lie just to make me play along.
How do I know the Covey really exists? How do I know that they really did what he told me? How do I know I’m not playing for the bad guy?
Okay, I guess I can disregard that last question because Cain is a bad guy for sure—I just don’t know how bad he really is.
How bad can he really be? Could I be that blinded by lust to not see the person he really is?
“No,” I insist, my low voice traveling through the empty room so weirdly loud that it startles me a bit. “No, he’s not a monster.”
My own reassurance soothes me, making it a lot easier to give in to the longing I have for him.
I don’t know how long it’s been since Cain left, but it feels a lot longer than just a few hours. It could be a day, or even two. I fell asleep in his arms and when I woke up, he was gone and I drifted right back to sleep, hoping to escape into a world of dreams that are far more pleasant than the ugly truth of my captivity.
They say that solitary confinement is the worst form of punishment because the lack of human interaction, the lack of touch, conversation and dissipation drives people mad. I understand that now better than ever, and I can see the impact it is having on me. My mind is starting to rotate, my thoughts moving in hurried circles while my restless body moves along with it. I have developed a monotonous routine of pacing through the small and dreary room in a repetitive circuit, always following the exact same path, back and forth like a tiger in a way-too-small cage, with the blanket tightly wrapped around my naked body and my gaze lowered to the ground. The motions keep me sane because it feels like my body is catching up with my revolving mind and thus keeping it in place, controlled and safe.
I’m sure that Cain is aware of that. He knows what he’s doing to me—and that bothers me even more now, after what happened between us in here.
We didn’t just have sex. We fought, we played, we craved. We melted into each other, each one of us unwilling to hold back.
And we closed our eyes before the truth. At least, I know I did.
Because—no matter how good and right it may feel—it just isn’t. And it will end as soon as I’ve done what Cain forces me to do.
My heart feels heavy at the thought, but it shouldn’t.
There’s a sound coming from the door, causing me to freeze on the spot. I’m standing in the middle of the room, the blanket wrapped around myself and my eyes glued to the door as it slowly swings open. As soon as I realize that it’s not Cain who’s entering the room, I jump away on impulse, moving backwards until my legs meet the cold bed frame. Pulling the blanket almost up to my ears, I stare at the figure stepping through the door, my eyes wide and my whole body stiff with fearful anticipation.
I recognize the man from the day I was brought here. It’s not the disgusting thug who assaulted me, but the second guy who helped drag me down here. He is shorter and thicker, and even though it doesn’t seem so at first glance, I’m pretty sure that the meat stretching his shirt is not just fat but a good amount of muscle, too. His upper arms are as thick as my thighs, and while he’s not much taller than me, he’s still intimidating as he approaches me with resolute steps. He is hold something in his hand and—much to my disappointment—it’s not food but a package, tightly wrapped up with tape.
“Here,” he grunts, expecting me to catch the package as he throws it in my direction. I don’t want to let go of the blanket, so I remain motionless as the package bounces against my chest and drops down to my feet.
“Get dressed and ready,” the guy adds, already turning his back to me as he makes a move to leave.
“Ready? For what?”
He ignores my question and disappears through the door without another word. A loud and familiar click sound follows, and I’m once again locked away from the world—and alone.
I hesitate for a moment, eying the package at my feet before I kneel down to pick it up. It’s soft and not very heavy. The blanket glides down to the floor when I let go of it to tear open the package, warm rays of hope spreading throughout my core. My eyes widen with glee when I find exactly what I was hoping for—something to wear. It’s not my own clothes, but a brand new pair of dark skinny jeans, a casual blouse and a camisole made of the softest cashmere I have ever touched. A blush heats my face when I see the set of underwear, a lacy bra and matching panties in black with delicate details.
Did he pick this for me? Is this what he wants to see on me?
I decide not to dwell on these speculations and quickly get dressed instead. Every single item fits perfectly and the warming and protective effect of clothes feels all the more intense after I was forced to stay completely naked for such a long time. As I put on the final item, the camisole, I notice that I’m standing taller than I did before. I’m no longer slouching, with my back bent and my shoulders falling to the front as if I were constantly trying to hide. Up until this moment, it never occurred to me how much of an ego boost even a simple set of clothes like these could be. I feel taller, stronger, more confident—and more human than I have felt in days.
Yet, I can’t help noticing that I was provided with everything but a pair of shoes. There was a pair of black socks at the bottom of the package, but no shoes. Does that mean I get to leave this room, but not this house? Am I going anywhere at all or is Cain just playing another trick on me to win my compliance?
Once again, my musings are interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. This time, I don’t jump away from it like a frightened deer, but face the intruder with a confident stance, my shoulders pulled back and my eyes slightly narrowed as if preparing for a fight. The door opens in a swifter motion this time, revealing Cain’s face a moment later. A dark smirk emerges on his face when he scans me from head to toe, seeming to approve of the outfit he most likely chose for me.
“Come here,” he says, gesturing for me to come closer.
I pause for a moment, held back by stubborn pride before I allow myself to follow his command. It’s not like I have a choice, anyway
.
“Give me your right hand.”
Slightly confused, I lift my hand up to him like a well-trained doll. He pulls it closer with one hand before lifting the other, in which he is holding something that he fastens around my wrist a moment later. It’s a leather cuff, securely locked with a tiny key—and much to my surprise, he closes the other cuff connected to it around his own wrist.
I cast him a questioning look, torn between rivaling emotions.
“Are we going… out?” I wonder out loud, and the sinister smile on his face widens.
“It’s time to get started, don’t you think?” he says, adding a subtle yank at the cuff to beckon me to follow him as he turns and opens the door behind him.
Chapter 24
Cain
This house has been serving as my safe house for the past year, and as I lead Riley out of her room, I’m wondering if I just made a big mistake by not covering her eyes. She can’t run anywhere, but she is smart and attentive. Her eyes flit from left to right, taking in every little detail while we walk through the corridor that leads up from her basement room. Her curiosity only grows when I take her upstairs. As we pass through the open entrance area of the house, Riley is turning and moving so wildly next to me that she keeps yanking at my wrist as her steps slow and her attention is elsewhere.
“Don’t try anything with me,” I warn, pulling her close to my side with such a violent pull that she almost loses her balance.
She mewls in protest and frowns up at me.
“It’s not like I could run away,” she reminds me.
“That’s right,” I agree. “But I want you to keep your eyes forward from now on. Do you understand?”
“Fi—,” she begins, stopping herself just in time to remember the correct response. “Yes, sir.”
She bites her lower lip in a visible effort to prevent herself from saying anything that could get her in trouble with me. Smart girl.
Still, I should have blindfolded her—just in case.
The house isn’t very big, a simple two-story townhouse lined up at the end of a row of similar-looking houses, most of them uninhabited. This house was never meant to be lived in either, at least not on a long-term basis, but I still made sure that it had everything to house a group of people if I ever needed it.
Like I do now.
Both Kyle and Jack are staying here on the first floor, while I have my bedroom on the second floor. The amount I pay them to serve as my personal henchmen and bodyguards is generous enough to keep their traps shut even when I’m the one deciding where they sleep. They were instructed to stay down here while I take Riley to the surveillance room upstairs.
She falls behind as we ascend the stairs up to the second floor, and when I turn around to check on her, I notice that it is because she has spotted Jack at the far end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a dirty grin on his face.
“Fuck off, Jack!” I yell at him.
He winks at Riley before rolling his eyes at me and then turns around and walks away.
Riley looks up at me with wide eyes, her face pale and overshadowed with intimidation.
“He won’t get near you again,” I promise.
“Why did you ever let it happen in the first place?” she asks as we continue our way upstairs.
I don’t deign to give her a response and, hastening my steps, I pull at the cuff to keep her close to me.
“I’m serious, Cain,” she presses behind me. “Why did you let them see me naked? Why did you humiliate me like that?”
She pauses, and for a few moments, her erratic breathing is the only thing I hear as she follows me through the hallway on the second floor.
“And why did you send these guys down to my room, so that I was all alone with them?” she adds after a while, her voice heavier and darker than before. “Alone and naked.”
We have reached the end of the hallway and I beckon her to step inside the room before me. She frowns at me, her lips pressed into a thin line while the crease between her eyebrows grows deeper—but she obediently follows my gesture and steps into the surveillance room. I follow and close the door behind my back, locking it just in case.
She stands in the middle of the room for a few moments before turning to me with a questioning look on her face, and I’m not sure whether it’s because she’s waiting for an answer to her inquiries or because she seeks an explanation for what she’s seeing in here.
The room is relatively big, hosting most of our technical equipment in one corner and two desks on the other side. It doesn’t look like much, but the two laptops next to the screens are the most valuable things in this entire house.
Despite the wealth I have accumulated over the years, I never cared for excessive possessions in most areas of my life, except for one: technology. When Riley and I first met, I was introduced to her as Cain Hewett, a successful tech mogul who made millions with security software and was now interested in growing his wealth and influence by smart investment in new applications in the same field. While very little of that was true, my interest in technology and the things it can do for us was not made up. There is even a part of me that envies Riley for her skills and her understanding of programming languages and software engineering.
“You’re not even going to answer me?” Riley probes, tilting her head to the side.
“That’s right, I’m not. We have more important things to discuss.”
She sighs but refrains from rolling her eyes at me.
“On these, you’ll find everything you need to know about Charlie and the data he works with,” I say, pointing to the laptops. “We actually run a similar database for our operation in here.”
I ignore her condescending side-eye and walk over to the desk, forcing her to come with me.
“How come you never considered a life outside of crime?” she asks out of the blue as I’m about to open the first laptop. “I mean, it seems like you’re pretty smart and resourceful yourself—why make the same mistake your dad did?”
I glance at her from the side. This is not the conversation I want to have right now.
“You’re about to earn fifty thousand dollars for spending one evening with a guy and hacking into his computer,” I remind her. “Have you ever seen a regular job posting with that kind of hourly rate?”
“Touché,” she responds—and much to my surprise, she winks at me before her focus moves to the laptop. “Let’s get to it, then.”
Her interest and will to comply baffles me a little, to say the least, but I decide that it’s better to take advantage of it while I can instead of questioning her. If this turns out to be her first step into a life on the dark side, then there’s very little I can do about it, no matter how bad I might feel about being the one who pulled her there. In fact, it might be for the better if she comes into contact with that hidden side of herself now because she will definitely need it.
I pull a second chair over to the desk so Riley can sit next to me as I get her ready for what’s to come. But just as I’m about to sit down next to her, my phone starts ringing—and it’s not just any phone. It’s the small palm that I keep with me at all times, even though it hardly ever rings. But when it does ring, I know it’s important.
Because it’s them.
But why the fuck are they calling now? They could not have picked a worse time.
Riley notices the ringing, too, and regards me with a puzzled look as if to say Are you going to answer that?
I wish I could just ignore it because, no, I don’t want to answer this call. But I have to because they never call without an urgent reason—and if I miss their call, there’s no way for me call them back. This connection is a one-way street.
“Excuse me,” I say as I turn away to head for the door.
Riley’s surprised gasp as she’s pulled up with me reminds me of the cuffs that connect the two of us.
Fuck. Seriously, fuck this
.
I hurry to produce the little key from my pants pocket and unlock the cuff around her wrist, only to connect it to the radiator next to the door. She protests with a loud sigh, but doesn’t move her arm away.
“Is this really—”
“Yes,” I cut her off. “No funny business! I’ll be right back.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but whatever it is she has to say gets lost under the sound of the door closing behind me as I flee the room.
Chapter 25
Riley
No funny business, he said.
Does that include eavesdropping? Did he even consider that possibility?
It doesn’t seem so because I hear him talking surprisingly well as soon as the door closes behind him. I have just enough leeway to move close enough to the door to press my ear against it. His voice is muffled, but I can still tell that he’s tense and stressed. He speaks fast and clipped, only giving quick responses to whatever the person at the other end is telling him. I can’t make sense of it because there’s too little to hold onto.
But then he says something that strikes me.
Because it seems that he’s talking about me.
“Yes, she’ll be ready.”
He’s moving away from the door, his voice becoming more distant and too faint for me to understand.
Then he comes back. He’s pacing up and down the hallway, seemingly unaware of how well or poorly I can hear him behind this door.
“Yes, the deal is still on.”
My heart skips a beat and I stop breathing, my ear pressed firmly against the door when he says something that shocks me down to my very core.
“She’ll be yours,” he says. “I’ll get her to you once this is done. Just like we agreed.”
I freeze in panic, my eyes widening as my lips part in a silent cry for help.
And it doesn’t get any better when he adds an even more frightening prospect.