by J. C. Owens
Table of Contents
Cover
Table of Contents
Acclaim for J. C. Owens
Look for these titles from J. C. Owens
Title Page
Copyright Warning
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by J. C. Owens
More M/M Romance from Etopia Press
~ Acclaim for J. C. Owens ~
Praise for Taken
“Taken was my surprise hit of the year. ...[A] rollercoaster ride of awesome. Landon and Kirith are like molten hot lava thrown on your skin. Yes people, it burns so good.”
—Darien Moya for Pants Off Reviews
~ Look for these titles from J. C. Owens ~
Now Available
Taken
Dominion of the Eth (Wings Book Two)
Wishes
Out of the Darkness
Also as J. C. McGuire (M/F)
The Ascension
The Gloaming
The Conquered
The Triumph
Out of the Darkness
Taken Book Two
J. C. Owens
Copyright Warning
EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By
Etopia Press
1643 Warwick Ave., #124
Warwick, RI 02889
http://www.etopia-press.net
Out of the Darkness
Copyright © 2014 by J. C. Owens
ISBN: 978-1-940223-79-7
Edited by Matt Dale
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: January 2014
~ Dedication ~
For all those readers who asked repeatedly for a story involving Enzo and Chase. Hope I do them justice…
And to Matt, for some truly exemplary editing! You make me sound good. :)
Chapter One
Chase fastened the seat belt with shaking fingers, then curled into his seat, a wary eye fixed on the man beside him.
The helicopter rose with smooth ease, and Chase’s companion lifted a long-fingered hand in farewell to the small group of family and friends below.
He shivered. He had grown used to his position on the island, serving as unofficial companion to the convalescing Kirith Martinelli. Now, Kirith was back with his lover, Landon, and his daughter, Laura. Chase was not needed.
He shivered once more, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile search for comfort. This was the first time he had been alone with his rescuer, and the power emanating from the man made him want to fling himself to the floor and offer obeisance to lessen the degree of punishment he was sure to receive. For them to be sitting side by side, as though they were equals, made Chase tense and anxious. This went against every bit of training he’d ever received, but he had discovered that his new master frowned upon any of his former actions, even to refusing sexual favors. Chase had tried numerous times to offer his body, but to his increasing fear, his new master seemed impervious to his charms. That could not mean anything positive. Sex was all he was good for. If his master did not want that, he was sure to get rid of him, and he would be back in the hell he had been rescued from.
“Chase.”
He froze, shaken from his tortured musings. Immediately he bowed his head and tried to curl in his seat enough to convey respect and obedience.
A huff of breath told him his actions had not found favor.
“Chase, look at me.”
With difficulty he looked up, unable to make his gaze go higher than lips drawn into a thin line. It was forbidden, under pain of beating, ever to meet a master’s eyes. The closest he could come was focusing on the lean Italian nose and thinking how utterly beautiful his new master was.
“My brother tells me that you think I will dispose of you as soon as I arrive back on the mainland.”
Chase’s breath ceased altogether. How could Kirith have betrayed him?
He cupped Chase’s chin with his lean hand and tilted his head up just slightly so he had to meet that cool gaze. “I told you back when we rescued both you and Laura that you were with me now. I meant that. That does not mean that I am going to discard you when you are not convenient.” Complete conviction resounded in that deep, low tone. Chase believed what his master said was true. At least it was for now.
“Yes, master,” he whispered.
A sigh this time. “I have told you before. You call me Enzo. Or if that is too difficult, Mr. Martinelli.”
He nodded, flushing. He had forgotten—again. It just was so hard to go against his training. “Yes, sir.”
Enzo shook his head, but his face seemed to soften slightly, a rare sight indeed. “Close enough.” The stern tone returned. “Don’t call me master again. I am nothing like the bastards who treated you like a living sex toy.” The distaste in the words made him cringe. His mas—Mr. Martinelli was right. He was nothing like those other men. Enzo was so much more, like a hero of old. He had rescued Chase from hell—and then kept him. No one had ever wanted to keep him before. He looked up adoringly, wishing he could express his feelings in some fashion that did not disgust Mr. Martinelli.
Those brown eyes searched his expression for long moments, then Enzo sighed again, patting his cheek gently before releasing his face.
“I have work to do. Just relax. You don’t have to do anything, be anything. Just watch the view, all right?”
Chase nodded, overwhelmed with the kindness he was being shown. It was as if he were a person. Did Mr. Martinelli see him as a person? He was not even sure what that meant. He saw himself as less than nothing; that had been drilled into him from a child, from the day of his first training session. What did his rescuer see that was so much more?
He chewed at his thumbnail, watching Enzo from beneath the fringe of his hair.
The Martinelli had a headset on and began barking orders to someone, the muted roar of the helicopter seeming little impediment.
Chase sighed softly. Enzo was not quite real to him, more like a fictional character who had swept out of nowhere to save a tortured soul.
The sheer beauty of the man made him almost more than believable: the short black hair so perfectly styled, the harsh, chiseled face that so seldom showed any expression, the brown eyes that seemed almost black in most lights. His body was powerful, broad-shouldere
d, slim-hipped, his beautiful dark skin showing his Italian ancestry clearly. He had the leashed energy of a predator, hyper-aware of his surroundings, but content to relax until something drew that intimidating gaze. This man was no one to cross. He had defeated Chase’s former master, Marcello—killed him to save Kirith. This was not a gentle man, but in all Chase’s life, he had known nothing but violence. That Enzo had shown him a form of caring beyond that was hard to fathom.
Chase could have stared at him all day, but he knew that could only bring about irritation in the end, so he reluctantly turned his attention to the window beside him, watching the sea below with increasing fascination. He had never had the opportunity to see out during the last flight to the island, so this was his first view of the sea from such a vantage point.
He felt so much better physically that it was hard to believe this was not all a mirage. He had enough to eat, and he slept in a clean, fresh bed. He was never required to give himself sexually, although that part gave him great anxiety. Perhaps with time, his mas—Mr. Martinelli—might come to see him as attractive enough for sexual use, but until then, he would strive to account himself in any way possible.
He struggled to believe that here—at last—was hope.
* * *
Enzo’s assistant, Raymond, looked up as Chase entered the outer office, his cold face softening somewhat as he took in Chase’s nervousness.
“Mr. Martinelli is waiting for you.” He gestured to the door of the inner sanctum, and Chase nodded jerkily, sidling past him, always nervous of the stern demeanor Raymond exuded. The man was good at his job, but he was impossible to read—even more so than Enzo’s head of security, Sergei. Chase always found himself tongue-tied in his presence.
He raised his hand and knocked, swallowing hard as he felt Raymond’s eyes on his back.
“Come in.”
Shaking with nerves, his fingers spasmed as he turned the doorknob and entered the cool, dark sanctuary that was Enzo Martinelli’s office. The man himself looked up slowly from his work, his finger marking where he was reading, his eyes pinning Chase to the spot. For long moments they were frozen in tableau. He took a deep, quivering breath. Being this close to the man he admired so deeply made thinking almost beyond his current capabilities.
At last Enzo sighed. Chase felt his stomach drop. What had he done now to disappoint his savior?
“Sit. We need to talk.”
With dragging steps, he approached and sank into the huge chair indicated, feeling almost swallowed by its size.
He stared at the floor, pleating his fingers together with nervous intensity, biting his lip until the abused flesh bled, as it did so often.
Enzo reached out his hand and tugged the lip free of his teeth. Chase looked up into tired brown eyes, feeling guilt at bringing this man yet more disturbance. He was such a burden.
“You don’t need to be afraid here.” The words held the ring of repeated utterance. “No one would dare hurt you in the slightest. Do you think I am not capable of protecting you?”
Chase gasped in horror and shook his head wildly. Mr. Martinelli was so powerful. There was nothing he could not do. He had never thought—
“Stop panicking.” Enzo’s voice was sharp, snapping him out of his fearful musings. “Look at me.”
Chase looked, fighting to keep his expression normal and not allow his infatuation to shine through, as he knew it so often did.
“I’ve summoned you today to ask why you refuse to speak to Peter. He is very good at what he does. Look at how he helped Kirith.” Enzo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why will you not work with him? He can help you. Do you want to stay locked in fear?”
Chase shook his head again fervently. God, he did not want to stay in the trap that engulfed him, but…
“I have nothing to talk about, sir. He wants to know what I am thinking, feeling. How can that be important? It has never been important before.”
The Martinelli leaned forward and laid a strong hand upon Chase’s jaw. The warmth made Chase press into the touch, craving the contact. “It was not important before because those bastards were trying to break you. There is so much pain inside you, just like there was in Kirith. The wound has to be lanced, the pain purged. You cannot go on until you face yourself.”
“I hate myself, sir,” he whispered. Tears brimmed at the corner of his eyes, despite his fight to control his emotion. “I don’t want to talk about myself. I just want what I am to go away, so I can become someone else.”
Enzo leaned closer, cradling his face in both hands, forcing him to meet serious eyes. “I like who you are. I don’t want you to change into someone else. Can you heal for me if you cannot do it for yourself?”
He blinked away the tears and nodded. He would do anything for his savior, and if this was what Mr. Martinelli wanted, then he would achieve it, no matter the cost. It was little enough to give to a man who had gifted him a new life. If Mr. Martinelli thought he was worth saving—worth keeping as he was, scars and all—then maybe there was something worthwhile within after all. He could not conceive what the Martinelli saw, but the man was surely wiser than he was. Therefore, Chase did not have to decide anything about himself at all. He just had to obey. Had to please his idol.
“I will speak to Mr.—Peter—” He managed even to use the man’s name, not his title, and felt quite proud of himself for the distinction.
Enzo nodded, perhaps picking up that small nuance of success. “That is all I can ask of you. I might have freed you from that room, but it is up to you to free yourself from what lays within you.” He smiled, and Chase’s heart pounded in reaction.
He would do anything to earn that smile again.
Chapter Two
Two Years Later
Enzo woke suddenly, his private phone ringing in his ear. He snarled silently, snatching it from the bedside table and stabbing the touchscreen with a finger.
“What? It is four o’clock in the fucking morning,” he snapped, murder in the tone.
“We have him.” The tone was pure satisfaction, and Enzo found himself suddenly and completely awake.
Landon, his brother’s lover, had been keeping tabs on the search for the men who had kidnapped Kirith and his daughter Laura on that horrific night. Although Landon would not leave Kirith’s side for a moment now, he had been adamant about being involved in the manhunt. Such infamy and betrayal would not be ignored. All of Landon’s buddies in his tactical ops team had aided in the effort, and Enzo had offered unlimited funds in the quest to find the last links in the horror that his brother had undergone.
Kirith knew nothing of what was transpiring, and they kept it from him with the best of intentions. Lethal though Kirith could be, he did not have the ruthlessness of his brother, and his state of health was still a concern after what he had undergone.
He and Landon would see it through and bear Kirith’s anger afterward if he should learn of it.
They had caught and eliminated all the vermin. Only the last, the biggest of the betrayers, was still at large.
“Where?” Pleasure and fury shot up his spine as he sat bolt upright against the ornate carved headboard.
With vicious satisfaction in his tone, Landon named a small town in northern Florida. “You’ll take care of it?”
Enzo knew how much the younger man longed to be in on this revenge. “It will be done swiftly.”
“Not too swiftly?” Landon’s tone held all the fury he could not release.
“No.” Enzo smiled, cruel anticipation rising within him. “I will see it lasts enough for us both.”
* * *
Jason woke in degrees, slowly and groggily becoming aware of his surroundings. It took long moments for his mind to take in the fact he knelt upon a cold floor, his arms chained above his head, and when those facts finally came to light, his mind beginning to function, he felt his whole body freeze in terror.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision, then wished he hadn’t. H
e whispered a prayer beneath his breath, pulling futilely at the chains.
A few feet away, relaxed back in the chair, the Devil sat with a wineglass in hand.
Jason’s breath caught, his heart pounding in terror. Dear God…
The man simply watched him: cold, brown eyes almost black in the stark light of the florescent bulbs. Dressed simply but elegantly in black dress pants and pristine white shirt, he seemed out of place in the dank room, the peeling paint a strange backdrop to his male beauty.
He sipped the wine, never taking his eyes from Jason, absolutely no expression on that handsome face. No hint of malice or menace showed in his expression, but malevolence radiated from his very presence like some living, breathing angel of death. Behind him, another man stood in the shadows, cold expression barely visible.
Raymond.
Jason trembled, his gaze pinned beneath that dark, fathomless stare. He had thought he had escaped. Thought he had been so clever, even when all the others had been caught and had died horribly if rumors were true.
He felt despair well within him, a glimpse of his own foolishness.
One did not escape Enzo Martinelli.
Enzo carefully placed the wineglass upon the small table, the tiny sound jarring Jason’s nerves. Raymond stepped forward to fill it with the swift efficiency he was so noted for. Enzo rose soundlessly with the grace of a predator. He reached to his waist and then flicked his hand, the blade opening with a faint snick, the edge gleaming in the light.
Jason felt warm wetness seeping into his pants and a whimper escaping his throat.
“It wasn’t me! I swear to God it wasn’t me! They conned me into it, told me Kirith and the girl wouldn’t be harmed! I swear!”
The blade kissed his cheek, so sharp it took moments for him to realize that he was actually cut, that blood was running down his neck, hot and thick.