Fire (A Special Agent Novel Book 4)

by C. P. Mandara

  “They barely register on your pain scale, do they, Thirty-eight?” There’s a half-smile upon his face and I would love to know what he’s thinking. I figure I’m probably better off not knowing, so I shake my head.

  “Hurt me,” I whisper.

  Adie tilts his head to the side again, blinks, and then refocuses his gaze. “What did you say?” It’s as if he can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. Normally, I’d have a hard time believing it, too, but I’ve just done a terrible thing and I need to atone for it in some way. It doesn’t matter that my motives were pure because it was still a betrayal of sorts. I want to suffer. I need to suffer - and there’s no one who can do pain like Adie, except for his brother, of course.

  “You heard me. Stop messing around. Make me scream, you bastard. Please.” That stops Adie in his tracks. Putting his index finger into his mouth and biting the tip, he stares at me intently. The cogs are whirring, and I can see the light dancing in his eyes. He wants to do all that and more to me, but something is stopping him. What?

  Wrinkling his face, as if I’ve just spoilt all his fun, he gives me a sour look. “You’re not playing the game fairly, Thirty-Eight. It’s your job to beg me to stop. You’re not supposed to beg me to start. That takes all the fun out of it.”

  Adie then paces, his fingers tangling in his dark, curly hair. Today he is wearing jeans and a bright white shirt, and I’d love nothing more than to run my fingers all over his body. “Goddam,” I whisper brokenly to myself. I’m in love with two men at the same time. Two utterly damaged, completely fucked-up men, both of whom hate me. I am certifiably insane.

  Getting down to his knees, Adie rubs the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, while his eyes bore into mine. I try my best to bite him, but I’m not quick enough. Grabbing a nipple, he squeezes it tightly, so tightly that my eyes water.

  “Play nicely, Thirty-Eight, or there will be consequences.” He pulls on my nub, extending it painfully, until it finally pings back into my body.

  “Promises, promises,” I whisper. Clamping down on a sob, I curse inwardly. I will not be able to hold back for much longer. Adie needs to begin. I have a maelstrom of emotions that need to be unleashed, and he will provide the perfect cover for me to vent them.

  His thumb caresses my cheek and I look into his eyes. A girl could get lost in those chocolate-brown orbs. As I’m drowning in the depths of his glorious irises, I feel a sharp scratch on the side of my neck. There’s then a little pressure before the pain disappears.

  “You mother-fucker,” I scream. He’s just shot me up with something, the sneaky bastard. I am suddenly spitting mad. “What have you just pumped into me? If it’s more heroin, I swear to God I will kill you the first chance I get.” I mean it, too. I can’t go through that again.

  Adie looms over me, and grins. “It’s not heroin.” He shakes his head and throws the syringe over the other side of the room. It bounces on the floor and skids across the tiles.

  “Well, if it’s not heroin, what is…” My voice slows. My heart rate should be accelerating, but it isn’t. Oh God. I have a feeling I know exactly what he’s just pumped inside of me, and that scares me far more than the heroin.

  “Pentothal? Scopolamine?” My eyes flutter downwards as I close them in horror.

  “Very good, Thirty-Eight. It’s one of those,” he inclines his head as if proud of me. “You see, I don’t trust you anymore and I need to know all of your little secrets. So that shot,” he holds up another syringe, “when combined with this one, should do the job.”

  My throat goes dry. “You can’t do this, Adie,” I say, shaking my head about wildly.

  “So, you admit you have secrets, Thirty-Eight?”

  Adie comes around to the front of me, kneeling down once more as his head looms over mine.

  “No,” I scream. “No!” I then go crazy in my restraints, shaking my arms and legs wildly, but there is no escape from this getup. Adie made sure of that. I can barely move, bar a slow rock from side to side.

  “Shh, Thirty-Eight. This will all be over in an hour or two, and who knows - you may even enjoy yourself.” Adie’s eyes are full of excitement now. He’s enjoying watching me struggle, knowing that the balance of power is now firmly in his hands.

  “Get away from me,” I scream. I’m still rocking, but there’s no way I can get out of these cuffs. Why hadn’t I considered this before I came here? What had James told me before about truth serum? How did I fight this? Lights and colours swirled in my head as Adie’s voice echoed in my ear.

  “I want your tears, today, Thirty-Eight. Floods of them. Now that I am back to work, because of you I might add, I want my reward.”

  “You’re back to work already?” I whisper. It’s barely been two hours since Alain mentioned it. His brother works fast. There is no rest for the wicked around these parts.

  “Yes. You’re my first assignment. I’m supposed to reduce you to a blubbering mess, while James and Alain watch. My brother wants to know if you still hold any power over James.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t. Besides, even if I did, James wouldn’t give him that. He’s stronger than I am.”

  Adie narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?” My jaw clamps shut as I realise that I am giving away secrets already.

  “Go to hell,” I spit.

  Adie puts one knee on either side of my head, and his upside-down face looms into view. “I’m already in hell, Thirty-Eight, and you put me there.” Pulling the cap off the second needle, he lowers his face down to mine. Our lips are so close now I could kiss him, but that’s the last thing I want to do. This man is a viper, and his expression is full of venom.

  “I can’t help you if you do this,” I whimper. “I can’t help you.” I also can’t control what I’m saying. My emotions are too fraught, I haven’t eaten enough today, and my concentration is all over the place.

  He frowns. “Can’t help me what?”

  “Can’t help you.” No other words will come out of my mouth. It feels like my mind and body are shutting down. I’m on overload, and I’ve tripped the switch.

  When he repeats the question, but gets no more sense out of me, he changes tactics.

  “Beg me to stop, sweetheart.” The needle hovers in my eye line as his fingernail trails a sharp path over my arm. I don’t know where to look.

  “Stop, please stop,” I wail. My eyes are already filling with tears. I thought I could hold out until the pain got here, but I was wrong. I’m losing it.

  Clamping his knees together around my face, so I can’t move, he then grabs my arm, and plunges the contents of the next syringe into it. There’s nothing I can do. Nowhere I can go. Tears fall freely down my cheeks now, and I am sobbing my heart out. They are great big, hiccupping sobs that reduce me to a breathless heap. There is no chance I’ll be able to talk for a few minutes, at least, and that has to be a good thing. Thankfully, Adie gives up trying to get any sense out of me for the time being.

  “You have no idea how much I love those tears, Thirty-Eight.” Releasing his hold on my head, Adie bends over to put his mouth on my face. There’s a part of me that wants to smash my forehead into his nose because now I’ve seen the kinder side of Adie, I can’t bear to go to back to his cruelty. The sensible side of me resists. Besides which, the collar won’t let me generate enough momentum to do any damage. It’s a clever rig he’s got me in, and he can virtually do whatever he likes to me, as long as he stays away from my teeth.

  Lying still as his tongue lathes a path up either side of my cheek, I try not to look at his face. I am a female after all, and I have my limitations.

  Adie notices my reticence. “Why won’t you look at me? Is it because you feel guilty for what you did to us? Is there some semblance of a human being behind that zombie-like façade?”

  I don’t answer him. The tears are still flowing freely, and he’ll have enough to do just trying to keep up with them. When they finally slow down, as the torrent of emotion withers a
nd wanes, he looks at me quizzically.

  “I can’t for the life of me figure you out, Thirty-Eight. You seem to be actively seeking your own destruction and you cry for no apparent reason. I haven’t even tried to hurt you yet, and I have a feeling that if I do, you’ll beg for more. You are one of the most exasperating females I have ever met. You don’t do anything you’re told, and I’m always wondering if you’ll creep up on me one day and slit my throat.”

  That entertains me. Trying to laugh, while my throat is wedged solid with snot and tears, I choke instead. “You’re funny.”

  “Why am I funny?” Adie grabs my cheek in his teeth and bites down gently. He’s confused. He’s lost between the sadist and the nice guy, and he’s not sure which one he should use right now for maximum potential. He wants information, but he knows getting anything out of me won’t be easy.

  “When I want you dead, Adie, you’ll be dead. Your father is extremely lucky to be alive now, and I blame that little snafu on lack of opportunity.” Adie is good at what he does, but he hasn’t been in the field as long as James and I have. His talents lie elsewhere, or though I daresay in a few years’ time, he could be just as lethal as us - if not worse.

  “And do you want me dead?”

  Now, I look at him. That questions deserves an honest answer, so I give him one. “No. I would never wish you dead, Adie.” I don’t elaborate. In my head, however, I know that Adie is not Alain. They are not cut from the same cloth. One has a soul that is almost redeemable, the other is destined for hell. While they look the same, they are nothing alike.

  “You make it hard to hate you, Thirty-Eight.” Adie goes quiet for a minute and then shakes his head, as if trying to talk some sense into himself. Standing up suddenly, he strides away from me, but quickly returns. This time he has a paddle in his hands. It’s made from solid wood, and it’s exactly what I want right now - thick, hard, and brutal.

  Caressing the wood in front of my eyes, he whispers, “Are you wet for me, Thirty-Eight?” Reaching past the T-bar, Adie’s fingers caress my breasts gently and then dip lower.

  I sigh. “I’m always wet for you, Adie. You are one of the most singularly beautiful men I have ever laid eyes upon. You already know this. Women drop to their knees when you enter a room, and you walk all over them.” I smile because it’s true. I am aware I am talking crap, but it isn’t anything that will get me in trouble at the moment, so I don’t berate myself too hard over the fact. I just need to be on my guard. Adie will slip a sneaky question in when I least expect it.

  “All women, except you, that is,” he purrs. There’s a dangerous light lurking in his eyes, but my sense of self-preservation left me a few minutes ago.

  “You will never walk all over me, Adie. You missed that boat.” I smirk. It’s a novel feat, when you consider my predicament, but I couldn’t care less.

  “Says who? I could leave you down here, tied to the wall, and beat the shit out of you, day after day. Men down here have done similar things, take my word for it. I’m going to be training up women so we can sell them to sick fuckers - ones just like me. Ones who live to inflict pain and heartache. I’m a monster, and with each day that passes, the darkness grows.”

  Adie is walking a thin tightrope over very precarious ground that involves his mortal soul. At the moment he already considers himself almost irredeemable, but if Alain has his way, his tenuous grasp on morality is about to evaporate.

  “You don’t have to be that person,” I whisper, quietly enough that the microphones won’t pick it up. “You can fight him.” I’m only half aware of what I am saying, but Adie’s eyes flicker. He can’t figure me out at all.

  His hands are still caressing the smooth wooden paddle, and I am jealous of the attention it is getting. I want his hands on me. Moaning, I search out his eyes and bite my lip seductively. It gets his attention.

  “And if I want to be that person? What happens if I want to chain you up and have you at my beck and call every second of every single day? What would you do, Lois?” My eyes glaze over as they look at his. I don’t want to get lost in his gaze. I don’t want to answer him, either. I’m not sure I want to hear my reply. I bite my lip harder.

  “Answer me, Lois. What would you do if I chained you up down here, to use as my personal slave? What. Would. You. Do?” His voice is hypnotic - mesmerising even.

  The urge to answer is so strong I let out a scream of frustration. “I hate you,” I whisper.

  “You don’t, though, do you?” Adie’s smile is smug.

  Tearing my gaze away from him, I concentrate on the cold floor beneath me. It’s rough and abrasive, scratching my back every time I move, but it’s a good pain. It’s the kind that reminds you you’re still alive.

  “I should hate you, and you should hate me,” I whisper, “but we don’t.” For all of Adie’s posturing, I know he still cares about me. He doesn’t like me much at the moment, but it’s not the same thing.

  “What makes you so sure?” he murmurs, brushing a tendril of my hair away from my face.

  I don’t answer him. Turning my face to the side, I refuse to meet his gaze. My head is fuzzy, and I feel like I’m floating. I can’t deal with this shit right now. If I’m not careful, I will break, and there’s already a crack through the centre of my body that’s threatening to shatter me into pieces.

  Chapter Sixteen - Adie

  While I desperately want Lois to tell me all of her precious secrets, I’m in no rush for them. I’ll get them out of her eventually, and I have all the time in the world. At the moment, she won’t even look at me, which is rich considering James and I are the victims of her scheming. Lois should be begging me for forgiveness, but she does no such thing. She’s trying to shut herself down and disappear into her own little shell - but I won’t let her. I can’t for the life of me figure out her actions as of late because nothing makes sense. So I’m taking matters into my own hands. I need to get to the bottom of this, but first, I’m going to give her what she wants - pain. Perhaps that will loosen her tongue a little. If it doesn’t, I have something that will.

  Picking up the edge of the T-bar, I push it forwards, exposing her ass once again. Her naked body is doing funny things to my libido, but I’m doing my best to keep it in check. I can’t jump into bed with her anymore because she’s crossed a line. Besides, she will shortly be Alain’s, and I don’t mess around with his toys. I don’t think she has any idea of what’s coming to her, but she’s made her bed and now she’s got to lie in it.

  Holding the paddle loosely in my right hand, I do a couple of practise swats in the air to get a feel for it. The beast is thick and heavy, but it will pack an impressive punch. It’s not something I’ll be able to swing around for long, but that won’t be necessary. Lois is already close to breaking. It won’t take much to send her over the edge. At least she knows what she’s in for. The other women Alain will send my way have no idea what’s in store for them. The thought both sickens and excites me, and it’s not a good combination.

  Positioning the paddle just above her ass, the first swat comes down hard and heavy on her sweet spot. I’m not going to take it easy on her. My anger at finding out she’s a traitor is raw and fresh, and I need an outlet for it. I reflect that sentiment in the force of the blows I pummel into her backside, giving myself a damn good workout in the process. My back might complain at regular intervals, but it’s a small price to pay.

  At first Lois is silent, but she doesn’t stay that way for long. This is the kind of spanking that always produces tears, so I’m not surprised when they arrive, although I am a little shocked at the extent of them. Lois dissolves into yet another river of emotion, and I’m torn between continuing the spanking or going over to her face so I can lap it up. Deciding to stay put, I mete out the rest of the spanking with precise, weighty smacks that will ensure this woman will not sit comfortably for at least the next few days. In fact, by the time I’m finished with her, her evening workout will be agony, but that’s n
ot my problem.

  “Why did you do it, Lois?” It’s a waste of time talking to her at the moment because she’s in no fit state to answer me, but I would really love to know the answer. The idea that Lois is a mercenary for the dark side doesn’t sit right with me. Don’t get me wrong - I know she’s a paid assassin for hire - but I’m fairly sure she’s amassed herself a reasonably large pot of dough by now, and I can’t imagine the lure of it is all that strong, especially with the strings Alain will have attached to it. This is her life we’re talking about. You can’t really put a price on that, can you? So I need to sort out this little puzzle. If she’s done something crazy, and I suspect she might have, the woman will need help to untangle herself out of the mess she’s created. I can provide that, or at least mitigate the damage if needs be.

  My hand falters on the paddle then, as her head thrashes from side to side. I stop, watching the tears stream down her cheeks, as her internal dam finally bursts. It’s as if her body is in the middle of a typhoon, needing to purge itself of all that is within. If she’s in it for the money, that wouldn’t happen, would it? At the moment I am completely conflicted because I don’t want to believe that Lois is one of the bad guys, even though, technically, I’m one of them, too. Lois needs to be above this shit. Her moral compass has always appeared to be of far greater quality than mine, and the switch doesn’t seem right.

  “Why did you do it, Lois?” I murmur again. She shakes her head, her wrists and ankles rattling in the restraints, but the raging storm within won’t allow her to form words. I don’t have the patience to wait until she’s all cried out, so I go in search of something meaner and nastier with which to chastise her, and one that won’t make my wrist feel as if it’s falling off.

  There’s a metal store cupboard, at the rear of the room, which is full of impact toys. It doesn’t take me long to find the one I want - the cane. I am in no mood to be nice this afternoon, and the cane will get results. It has a bite that is second to none, and it can do some real damage when left in the wrong hands - hands like mine, that is. Putting my palms out in front of me, I stare at them for a second. These are hands that regularly inflict pain and dole out countless atrocities. They’ve also killed - not once, but many times. I have more experience with fear than with happiness, and it’s starting to become a way of life. Lois gave me a little spark of bright white light for a while, but the flickering flame has now been extinguished. I don’t want to lose that little ray of hope. If I find out that Lois has been working for my brother all this time, I’m liable to lose it. Bad things happen to people when I lose it.