Wolfe's Lair

by Alice Raine

  I might be pretty clueless about what the fuck was happening to me, but one thing I was sure of. I was no longer at Club Twist. The car, or van, or whatever I had been driven in, had made several stops in our journey, and although I’d been drugged, each time the engine had rumbled and restarted below me I had been partially awoken from my foggy state.

  Wriggling my body, I realised that my hands were tied behind my back with a scratchy rope, and my knee-high boots had been removed because I could feel rope around the bare skin of my ankles, too. From a brief exploration with my fingers I decided that the wall behind me was bare brick, or rock. This, combined with the dank-smelling air around me, led me to believe that I was probably in a garage, or perhaps cellar of some sort.

  Maybe I could somehow shift myself across the floor and kick my way out of the door? If there was a door that I could access.

  Rocking forwards, I let out my fury in an angry yell, but the sudden exhalation of breath made my head spin wildly, and just when I thought I heard the creak of a door nearby, darkness descended upon me again.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Oliver

  This was madness. I was sure I was going insane. It felt like my call to David had been days ago, and in that time, I had gone over and over the evening’s occurrences so many times that my skull throbbed. I was beside myself with worry, my body was fidgety, and I needed to hit out at something. Or someone, because as soon as I found out who had taken Robyn, there wouldn’t be any stopping me.

  Finally, after I’d practically worn a trench in the carpet from my pacing, I heard the door at the far end of the corridor open. David jogged towards me. ‘Traffic on the motorway was a fucking nightmare. Have you found her yet?’

  ‘No. I think someone’s taken her, but I have no idea why.’

  David frowned at me as he pulled out a large bunch of keys and unlocked his office. ‘Are you sure? It sounds pretty extreme, Oliver.’

  ‘I know, but she wouldn’t leave without telling me, David, she just wouldn’t.’

  At that moment, Marcus hurried up towards us, with a worried-looking Sasha hot on his heels. ‘We’ve checked the club, the flat, and local friends’ places. No sign of her anywhere. Any luck here?’

  David shook his head grimly and shoved open the door to his office. ‘I’ve only just arrived. Let’s check the camera footage and see what the hell has been going on around here.’ Hearing how determined he sounded eased my concerns that he might be involved.

  But if not him, who the hell had Robyn?

  ‘When exactly was this?’

  I checked my watch and my stomach dropped as I realised it was now over five and a half hours since I’d last seen Robyn. ‘Around seven o’clock. She left a drink at the bar and her handbag was found in the toilets. But if someone emailed me pretending to be you, they must be involved somehow. Who else has access to this office?’

  ‘No one.’ David sat at the desk and cursed. ‘The laptop is open. I never leave it open. Someone has definitely been in here.’ After rapidly typing for several seconds he shook his head. ‘Whoever they are, they must know a thing or two about hacking, because this laptop is password protected.’

  I stepped behind him, and watched as David brought up the CCTV footage from his office, then, in a different box, the footage from the corridor outside. As the clock in the left-hand corner showed 18:50, the door at the end of the corridor opened and someone entered wearing a hooded jacket.

  Only staff should have had access to that corridor, but David had a large staff here, and with the big baggy jacket and grainy images it was near impossible to tell who it was.

  We watched as the figure glanced each way before unlocking the office door and entering. The entire time their face was obscured by the hood. ‘Motherfucker!’ David exclaimed angrily. ‘Who the fuck is that, and how the hell did they get a copy of my key?’

  ‘Check the footage from near the ladies’ toilets. I want to see if we can see her being taken,’ I demanded, barely holding back from leaning over him and taking control of the laptop.

  Scrolling through some other footage, David then found the bar and I watched the scene from earlier in the evening, as Robyn and I first entered. We sat at the bar for some time before I could be seen checking my phone and reading the email from David. She kissed me on the cheek as I headed off to David’s office, and took a seat at the bar. My heart clenched at the sight of her, and I ground my teeth together. She ordered a drink and chatted briefly with Natalia behind the bar, before disappearing in the direction of the toilets.

  The camera from the toilet corridor showed her entering the ladies’ at six minutes past seven. Then, thirty seconds later, a very familiar figure followed. My entire body clenched as I leaned closer to watch. The hood was down now, their face clearly visible, and after checking that no one was watching they slipped inside the women’s toilets.

  The sight of them carrying Robyn’s limp body out just two minutes later was the final straw, and the chair that I was leaning on flew across the room as my arms jerked up in agitation and a roar left my lungs.

  ‘I don’t believe it … but they were downstairs …?’ Marcus stuttered in disbelief.

  Mierda! I didn’t believe it either. I was usually such a good people reader, but tonight I had been well and truly played.

  Kicking out at the door in frustration I watched as it bounced on its hinges, and spun on my heel to turn and face David as rage boiled up inside me.

  He held up his hands, not needing any prompting from me. ‘I know their home address. Let’s go.’

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Robyn

  Wakefulness had come upon me again, but even though my eyes were open I was still swathed in darkness. This blindfold was so fucking frustrating! If I could see where I was I’d feel so much more settled.

  Remembering the squeak of a door just before my last bout of unconsciousness, I strained my ears, trying to listen for any sounds around me. All seemed quiet, but the thick blindfold covering my eyes was tied so that the cloth also covered my ears, making everything sound muffled.

  Not being able to see was making me panic even more than the sensation of being bound. I had to get this cloth off. I rubbed my forehead on my knees in the hope of dislodging the material that was keeping me blind, but a voice beside me froze me in place.

  ‘I wouldn’t bother, if I were you. I’m good with knots; it’s tied tight.’

  The deep voice was muffled, but close beside me, and I yelped and leaned away from where the sound had come from. I had thought I was alone, but clearly, I was not, and from the deep rumble of the voice, my companion was male.

  Now I knew there was someone in this space with me I reverted into my original full freak-out mode; screaming and wriggling until sweat prickled on my neck and I was panting hard.

  A hand landed on the top of my head and gripped, firmly enough to still me. ‘Stop!’

  ‘Fuck you! Let me go, you fucking freak!’ My throat hurt from yelling, but there was no way I was stopping. Quitting simply wasn’t a word in my vocabulary.

  ‘Your manners need significant work.’

  My manners? I’d been forcibly taken against my will, and I was being told off for my manners?

  What. The. Fuck?

  The terrifying roar that emanated from my captor was enough to make my stomach clench with fear. ‘Enough! Close that rude mouth, or I’ll gag you!’

  I snapped my lips shut, desperately trying at the same time to work out if the voice was someone familiar from the club, but it was too distorted from the cloth over my ears.

  Large hands gripped me under my armpits and hauled me upright. With a chilling efficiency, my wrists were untied, then attached to some sort of chain above me and pulled up until they were fully extended and I was having to stand on my tiptoes.

  ‘Now that you’re awake, let’s make a start.’

  Make a start? I had no wish to start anything with this freak, except for my escape
attempt, so I thrashed my legs around as much as I could. Even with all my effort, it wasn’t enough, though, because my captor easily managed to still my kicking limbs and attach my ankles to some sort of clip on the floor. The only thing I felt any relief about was the fact that I was still fully dressed, and my legs were attached with the ankles together, making me feel slightly less vulnerable.

  Once I was well and truly strung up and barely able to move, my blindfold was untied and pulled off, leaving me blinking against the bright lights of the room. It took me several long moments to recover my vision, but once I did, I let out a scream so blood-curdling that it wouldn’t have been amiss in a slasher film, because the sight before me was completely and utterly terrifying.

  Standing before me was a huge man dressed all in black, with his feet splayed and arms crossed over his chest. His hands were gloved, but the most chilling thing was his face, which I couldn’t see at all because it was covered in a grotesque black plastic mask of a grimacing clown.

  The scene around us didn’t settle my nerves, either, because I’d been right about one thing. I was in a cellar, but this was a cellar like no other I’d ever seen. Every single wall was covered in hooks loaded with implements that seemed to be aimed at inflicting pain. Whips, spiked chains, clamps, knives. My mind could barely take it all in, and as I ran my terrified gaze around again a lump of terror blocked my throat and started to choke me.

  ‘Finally, I have you here with me. We’re going to have so much fun, Robyn.’

  Robyn. He knew my name. But who the hell was this? Now that my ears weren’t covered by the thick cloth I had thought I might be able to recognise his voice, but the latex mask he was wearing made his tone sound slurred and difficult to understand.

  As I wracked my brain, trying to work out who it was holding me captive, he reached up and undid his mask.

  I held my breath in terrified fascination as I watched him work the bindings at the back of the mask, and then a shocked gasp tore up my throat as he finally pulled it off with a dramatic flick.

  Even though I instantly recognised the face of the dark-haired man before me, his eyes were vacant and unfamiliar, and my brain struggled to compute why on earth he’d taken me.

  Dominic. It was Dominic behind the mask, and there was some vague reassurance in the fact that at least I knew him, but he’d still kidnapped me, so I was hardly feeling calm. I knew he and Oliver didn’t get on, but this was beyond extreme. Why had he taken me, and what was he planning on doing to me?

  ‘What the hell are doing, Dominic? Why am I here?’

  ‘Don’t refer to me as Dominic. I am your Master now and you shall call me as such.’

  Call him Master? I don’t fucking think so.

  He must have seen my revolted expression, because he moved closer, close enough that I could see the darker blue flecks in his icy blue eyes, and he ran a finger underneath the leather of my collar. A sneer curled his lips. Then, with no warning, he curled his fingers into a fist and ripped the strip from my neck. My head jerked with the tug, and the leather burned the skin at the back of my neck as it gave way, causing me to cry out in shock and pain.

  I watched in distress as he threw my collar away to the side. It was my last link to Oliver, and as the leather strip and tag skidded across the floor and disappeared under a cupboard, a sob rose in my throat.

  Ignoring my anguish, Dominic continued as if we were simply discussing the morning’s news. ‘And as for why you are here? I’m teaching you a lesson, my pet, just as Oliver should have yesterday. Twenty lousy spanks for your petulant behaviour? You yelled at him like you were the one in charge, and he just sat there and took it like a sap. It was fucking pathetic.’

  This was all to do with yesterday and my outburst when I thought Oliver had paid for my club membership? I vaguely recalled Dominic teasing Oliver about my behaviour and asking if he was “going to let me get away with it”, but I’d thought it had been just that – teasing. Quite apparently for Dominic, it went quite a bit deeper.

  ‘They’re all fucking pathetic,’ he spat, his face scrunching into an irritated grimace. ‘None of them know about real discipline. Not like me.’

  Dominic was pacing now. His expression was dark, but his posture seemed agitated, as if he wasn’t entirely with it. ‘He didn’t even hit you hard,’ he muttered with apparent distain.

  Hit me that hard? Suddenly a cold chill ran through my already terrified body as Oliver’s warnings about Dominic came rushing back to me; he’d said he was into some “extreme stuff”, and liked to dish out “serious amounts of pain” while having sex. Briefly glancing around the room of torture implements again, I could well believe it.

  Panic, terror, and fear swirled in my system, until all the lights seemed to be shining brighter, and the air felt thinner, as if I couldn’t quite get enough to breathe. I felt like I might pass out, but with Dominic sneering at me from a few feet away I really needed to stay conscious.

  Fucking hell. I really had been kidnapped by a sadist, and as that realisation hit me it sucked the remaining air from my lungs and turned my legs to jelly, leaving me hanging limply from my wrists for a few seconds.

  ‘You’re here because you need to learn to behave. I’ll teach you better than Oliver ever could.’

  I was breathing so frantically that my breaths were whistling from my nostrils, but the mention of Oliver brought hope rushing to my mind. ‘O-Oliver was with me at the club, Dominic, he’ll know I’m missing.’

  ‘Call me Master!’ he snarled, spit flying from his mouth. ‘Christ, you’re a fucking shit sub.’

  Ignoring his outburst, I shook my head. ‘He’ll find me, I know he will,’ I stated with as much certainty as I could, but my remark didn’t even make Dominic pause. In fact, he threw his head back and cackled as if he had completely lost his mind.

  ‘I don’t think so. Loverboy won’t have a clue that it was me, not after my stellar acting performance back at the bar.’

  What? Panic flooded my system again, and I blinked several times, trying to work out what he meant. ‘What do you mean?’ As much as I had tried to put on a brave front, my voice was whisper-thin, showing every ounce of my fear.

  Dominic swaggered over to the wall beside me and leaned on it with an arrogance that made me want to vomit. ‘I played it fucking perfectly, Robyn. Once I had you drugged and locked in the van, I went back inside and picked up a random blonde so it would like I’d been there all night.’ He ran a hand over his short hair and grinned wickedly, apparently completely at ease with his mention of drugging me and locking me in a van. ‘I hung around near the bar so I was there when Oliver realised you were missing. You should have seen his face. I thought he was going to cry! He’s such a fuckin pussy. I made sure he saw me, and then acted completely oblivious, and suitably concerned about your disappearance. It was fucking perfect, and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker.’

  Holy shit. So Oliver knew I was missing, but would never suspect that it was Dominic who had taken me?

  How the hell would he ever find me?

  How the hell would anybody find me?

  I was broken from that panicked thought as Dominic continued to speak. ‘Behaviour like yours yesterday would never have been allowed in the children’s home when I was growing up. Do you know what they did to us if we dared talk back or argue?’

  I was slipping into shock now, and instead of answering, I just stared at him. While he waited for my answer, Dominic moved closer and took the hem of my T-shirt into his hands, rolling it all up and tucking it under the elastic of my bra strap so that my entire midsection and back were exposed to him. The feel of his fingers brushing my bare skin made me shudder, but with the way I was stretched out there was no room for me to flinch away from him.

  ‘Well? Answer me, Pet.’ The way he called me “Pet” sickened me to my stomach, but his voice held a lower, scarier tone than before, indicating that he definitely wanted an answer this time, and so I swallowed and tried to ca
lm my skittering heartbeat. God, at this rate I might well have a full-on cardiac arrest.

  ‘N … no.’

  ‘No, Master,’ he corrected crisply, but I would not give him the satisfaction of calling him that.

  ‘Let me give you a clue.’ He grabbed his shirt and ripped it over his head before turning around so I could see the full expanse of his broad back. A horrified gasp left my lungs as I looked at the ugly criss-cross of long, puckered, red lines that littered every inch of his back. Holy shit. There had to be upwards of a hundred scars on his skin.

  ‘They started when I was seven,’ he murmured, apparently wanting to unburden himself on my unwilling ears. ‘The counsellors at the children’s home didn’t like my attitude, so they used to hit me with belts, rulers, and even a cable from an old computer printer. Once they noticed how resilient I was to the pain they stopped holding back.’

  He was being beaten at age seven? Jesus. No wonder he was messed up, but I didn’t want to hear this. It didn’t compensate for the fact that he had taken me against my will.

  After standing still to give me time to look at his scars, Dominic walked to one wall and pulled down a vicious-looking bull whip before flicking it into the air until it cracked loudly. The noise made me whimper, and a trickle of cold sweat dribbled down my spine.

  ‘I’ve found that this whip leaves a similar mark to the printer cable they used to use on me.’

  Oh fuck no.

  He repeated the wrist flick, and as I watched the whip blur in the air and crack in front of me I imagined it ripping through my skin. Goose pimples flooded my entire body, and I began to desperately shake my head.

  ‘Pl-please … don’t do this, Dominic …’

  ‘My. Name. Is. Master!’ he screamed, and as the final words left his lips he lurched his right arm up and flicked it forwards so that the whip stuck me across my stomach.

  The bite of the pain was so intense it was almost indescribable, but as a best attempt I would say it was like a line of searing hot lava being thrown against my body. A garbled cry left my lips, and every fibre of my being fought to bend forwards and protect myself, but I couldn’t; the chain on my wrists and cuffs on my ankles were holding me strung out too tightly.