by Marie Wathen
“You should shower as soon as you finish eating and put these on.” I hold up the freshly laundered clothes and she smiles weakly.
“Sorry about passing out again,” Waverly sighs heavily before shoving a handful of almonds into her mouth. Again, I shrug. “Hey, are you okay?” Grabbing my wrist, she narrows her eyes on me. “Did he do something to you?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Anna…” She chokes then turns up her bottle of water to clear her throat. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about me.” I smile and put the clothes down beside her before standing and walking over to the straight pipe sticking out of the wall, posing as a shower head. “Tox left a few towels, wash cloths, and several sweat suits on his last trip down here, which was sometime while we slept again.”
Turning the water up to the hottest setting, I glance back over at Waverly and see her finishing off her food. That’s only the third time I’ve seen her eating since all of this started, but then again I was drugged and out cold prior to being dumped here. Trapped in this hellhole is beginning to make me freak out, but I’m trying to keep it together for her. I wish I could figure out how many days we’ve been missing. Also, I’m sick of praying every minute I’m awake that someone will find us. Mostly, though, after the dream I just had, which is a reoccurring nightmare now, I’m scared for Breesan.
“The water’s ready if you’re finished eating,” I announce, walking back over to Waverly. “Let’s get you up. You’ll feel so much better after you shower.” I smile halfheartedly. “I know I do.”
After she gets clean and changed into the fresh sweat suit, Waverly eats a little more before begging me to let her sleep. Whatever is happening to her must be from the drugs they gave us. It’s the same for me with the memories inundating my mind. They’re not only haunting me in my sleep now. Numerous times I’ve experienced them just as vividly while wide awake. When I get out of here, I’m going to need a vacation or a hospital room. If I get out of here.
“Hey, Princess,” Tox says, pushing open the door sometime later. I don’t respond to him continuing to antagonize me with that humiliating nickname.
Sitting with my knees pulled up, I have my arms crossed over them and my head placed onto my arms. He puts more bags in the usual spot before shutting the door again. This is the first time he’s come into the room since he made it a point to scare me.
“I’m glad to see she woke up again and changed.” He walks over to Waverly, standing in my direct line of sight. I turn my head, not wanting to see him. “And I’m guessing you got her to eat, too?” Provoking me, he repeats, “Has she has some of the food, Anna?”
“Yes!” I growl, keeping my eyes focused on the wall. “Why do you care, Tox? Just leave us alone and let us die in here. That’s what’s going to happen, after all. We’re going to die in this hellhole.” I jump to my feet, crossing the space quickly to glare at the SOB. “You…” My voice stalls scanning his face. Some of the light coming through the small window, at the top of the door, illuminates his features. He’s not wearing his heavy gothic makeup and looks exactly the way he did the night that he grabbed me. I gasp loudly, covering my hand over my mouth and blinking back the tears. “Oh, God, you look…you look like…” The words lodge in my throat.
“I look like your friend,” he provides matter-of-factly while smirking in a sinister way. He steps closer, lowering his face so that I can get a better look at him. “That would be because Breesan is my cousin.” My head shakes wildly and my heartbeat thrashes out of control.
“No,” I whisper, but he just winks at me and nods his head up and down slowly with that menacing smile spreading across his face. “No! You’re lying. You are... are…” He cuts me off.
“The bad guy,” he reminds me. That’s not exactly where I was going with my stuttering conclusion. Cousins? How? Who? Then it hits me. Oh, my God. Tox is Julia’s son.
Through my hands, I mumble, “Why are you doing this?”
He shrugs while walking away from me to hover over Waverly. He touches the back of his hand to her forehead and then with long, thin fingers, he sweeps her bangs away from her face. Dragging out the moments before answering, he checks the rhythm of the pulse in her neck.
“Some people are born with everything. Others struggle just to get by.” He moves away from Waverly to sit in front of the door. “Let’s take you, for example.” He rakes his eyes over me from head to toe, forcing a shiver across my flesh. “The little princess was given her heart’s desire from birth, but your friend here…” He jerks his chin, motioning in Waverly’s direction, and stares at the sleeping beauty. “She works her ass off for scraps. Her income never meets her debts, but she’s one of the happiest people that I’ve ever met.” Turning his focus back to me he asks, “Is your life that happy, Princess, or do you take it for granted like most rich snobs?”
“If this is about money, my family will give you plenty to let us go,” I bargain, crossing my arms.
He laughs before pulling a hateful face, and then growls, “Just as I thought. You think that you can just buy your way out of every situation.”
“Didn’t you kidnap us for a ransom?” Averting his eyes, he becomes eerily quiet. Why would Tox and his gang take us if they didn’t do it for the money? What more could he possibly expect? “I don’t understand, Tox. Please,” I sit across the room from him, pressing my back against one of the only dry spots on the wall. “Tell me what it is that you hope to accomplish with our abductions.”
He stares at me for a long time before finally answering. “You and Waverly weren’t meant to be taken.” Tilting my head, I see a touch of humanity filter into his features until he explains, “Breesan was supposed to be alone.” With that admission, he looks pissed-off.
“Is she…” I can’t even form the words to ask if he killed my best friend.
“She got away,” he says with a sick twist of humor in his voice. Tox’s eyes glaze over and a hardness I’ve never seen before replaces his handsome features.
“Why Breesan? What could she possibly have done?” Curiosity has my mind reeling.
“She’s an entitled little bitch who doesn’t deserve everything that she was given,” he roars, all red-faced and with his fists clenching against his thighs.
“What are you talking about?” Suddenly angrier with him than I am scared, I defend my friend, “That’s not Breesan at all. You are crazy, like your vile mother.”
“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” His voice is barely-controlled hostility. He rises to his full height, prowling over and then squatting down next to me. Bringing his dark gaze too close for my comfort, his breath hits my cheek and I turn from him. “What in the hell do you know about my mother? She was a good woman, and I won’t have a little bitch like you disrespecting her memory.” Upon hearing him talk about Julia in the past tense, I twist my head back around sharply. We’re so close now, my nose bumps against his. Gasping, I flinch backward at our intimate contact.
“Was?” My question is barely a whisper. I avert my eyes, forcing the burning tears to stay. Breesan has lost Tristan, me and now Julia. Even as cruel as her stepmother was, she was the only person left that Breesan had a real connection with. Please, God, let her survive this hell.
Tenderly, Tox touches his fingers under my chin, twisting it back around so that I’m looking him directly in the eyes, which are profoundly intense. “My mother is dead and I’m sure that my sweet and innocent cousin is to blame.” His mocking tone doesn’t match the sadness swirling in his eyes. Julia, his mother, is dead? Wow, just wow.
Chapter Eight
Breesan
In the early morning hours, I shower and then crawl into bed with Marcus. “I missed you,” I whisper, kissing his stubbly jaw. He offers a weak moan acknowledging me while turning and wrapping both arms around my body securely. Before drifting into my own slumber, I silently say another prayer for Anna and Waverly, hoping that God is keeping them safe wherever they are.
Breathing in his cinnamon and delicious man scents, I sigh happily. Home. “Hey,” I reply with a raspy, sleep-filled voice.
“Ah, God, I missed having your warm, little body in my arms.” His fingers dig into my hip as he wraps a leg over my thighs. “Come here.” Without moving his hand from my ass, he nuzzles his way down my hairline to my lips, kissing me softly as he goes.
“I doubt you even noticed I was gone,” I pout, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.
“You would be so wrong on that one.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, breathing deeply against my hair. “This and every bed, no matter how perfect, without you in it is wholly lacking desirability.”
I dig my fingers into his thick locks, holding him securely. “Make love to me, Marcus,” I plead, staring into emerald pools of devotion.
“Don’t you need to brush first?” he teases, leaning away and tipping my chin up with his thumb, so that he can look into my eyes. A playful smirk tugs on his full lips.
“It can wait.”
Unwrapping himself, he rolls me over to my side so that we’re face-to-face. Slowly, running his hand from my neck, over my shoulder, he plays with the strap of my tank. His sexy eyes focus on the path ahead before he tickles my ribs and trails lightly over the swell of my hip with needy fingers. Licking his lips, he stalls gripping the back of my knee, not enough to hurt, but deliciously rough. I feel a hum of excitement travel through me from that spot, straight to my center. My hands tremble, releasing his hair and sliding over his hot skin. He presses a tender kiss to my bare shoulder, and our breathing increases rapidly at the contact and because of the wild anticipation. He tugs my leg over his, and this new position allows me to feel his full erection pressing at my entrance. Swerving my hip, I whimper at the exciting contact.
“I think I’ve created a monster,” he murmurs softly against my neck before scraping his teeth up and biting my ear.
“Aaah,” I pant, digging my fingernails into his back, drawing him on top of me. He settles his body between my legs and begins kissing around my jaw to the front of my throat. His lips suck and sip greedily on my skin. Contradictory to the hell outside these four walls, I’m in heaven. Marcus makes everything and every second heavenly.
“Breesan, baby, I need you,” he moans, pulling the scoop of my tank top down and lifting my breast into his hot hand before wrapping his dark lips around my peaked nipple. My insides clench wonderfully at his eagerness to devour me leisurely. He gives my other breast the same attention before moving down my stomach.
“Need you, Marcus.” The butterflies already playing around excitedly in my belly become frenzied with anticipation as he continues his journey south.
Peeling my boy shorts off, he stares down at my heat with an all-consuming need rolling in his coke-bottle green eyes. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of you, ever.” His scintillating mouth presses against the top of my slit as he kisses every inch of my center with paramount skill, before he thrusts his demanding tongue inside. Waves of pleasure combined with unrelenting need charges my body.
“Babe,” I moan low in my throat, fisting his dark hair and writhing under his face. He hums happily with my movement. That one, tiny sound makes my whole body feel like he found the turbo boost, and I can’t stop the needy moan that falls from my mouth. “Oooh, you’re making me so crazy.”
“I’m about to do so much more than that to your gorgeous body,” he promises. Groaning into me, he pushes my build-up skyward aggressively. When he presses his thumb onto my clit and rubs slowly, the tingling sensations rip through me and suddenly my sanity is the least of my concerns.
“Oh…oh, Marcus, oh, babe…” Everything is forgotten in this magical moment except for what our lovemaking does to my heart and soul, and how this man makes me feel so completely special. Yes, he loves me with his body, but his soul calling out to mine is more powerful than anything I have ever experienced.
He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath before he is off the bed, pulling me along with him to the edge. He strips hastily and then grabs my legs, wrapping them securely around his waist. Lifting the hem of my shirt, he runs both hands upward, exposing my breasts. “God, look how fucking gorgeous you are,” he moans passionately, looking me over longingly.
My hair is a tangled mess, my eyes are still puffy with sleep and I can feel the redness from my afterglow, burning against my neck and chest. None of that matters, because he’s looking at me like I am the most beautiful thing that he’s ever laid eyes on.
His fingers trickle down slowly along my stomach, sliding over the tops of my thighs. He pulls them further apart and stills. “Beautiful,” he whispers, glancing down at me open fully to him. He leans over me, our bodies barely touching, but it’s enough to heat me instantly. One of his hands comes up to rest beside my head, the other gripping his cock. He strokes the moist head against my entrance, releasing a low rumble of anticipation and excitement, extending from deep within his chest. “I will try to be gentle, but I don’t want to be,” he admits, pushing slowly into me while lowering his mouth to the crook of my neck. He kisses me just as delicately.
Accepting every wonderful, thick inch of him, I beg, “Take me, Marcus.” He lifts his face, looking stunned. “Take me hard.” Blinking once before his sexy-as-fuck smile eclipses his face, he eases out and then he thrusts forward hard, forcing my body upward against the mattress. Pressing his forehead against my chest, he wraps both arms around my waist, clasping them behind my lower back, which angles my body up toward his. This position allows him to dive deeper.
With every plunge, I can barely breathe, but I manage to grunt, “Oh yes…that feels…so good, Marcus…so good. More…harder.”
“Fuck,” he grunts, pounding against me with a rugged force, fashioning the rhythm of a hardcore metal song. It’s wild and strong, making me seize him securely. He groans, “Oh, damn, you feel so fucking good. Aaah, baby!” Damn, his excitement elevates my climax once again. “Christ, I love how this makes me feel while we fuck.” He lifts his eyes, piercing me with boundless love, more dominant than I have ever seen.
“Marcus, I’m so close…” I pant breathlessly, losing my thin battle against all common sense.
Hearing my plea, he dips his head, picks up his pace, and I spiral out of control. Wildly, I writhe underneath his amazing assault, screaming his name repeatedly. His detonation follows mine almost immediately. He groans through his release while kissing me overpoweringly. “My God, that’s so good.” His voice is hoarse and heavy. He lifts up his face from my chest, his lazy green eyes pierce mine with unadulterated love. Giggling softly, because I feel so unbelievable, I nod my head agreeably. After just staring for several sweet moments, he lifts off and stands. Then he offers a hand, assisting me. After cleaning up, I scoot up on the bed and he follows, wrapping his body over mine, tangling limbs, and I’ve never been happier.
“I love you so much.”
“Mmm, I love you,” he mumbles against my shoulder before kissing it tenderly.
We hold firmly to each other in the stillness of the early morning hours, absorbing every precious second of our bond.
Finally, I break the silence. “Can we talk about your trip?”
He lifts his gaze up to meet mine and nods with a frown bending the corners of his mouth. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do,” I assure him, smiling slightly, hoping I can convince him, as well as myself, that I’m ready to hear the gory bits.
“Charlie Gibson is barely hanging on after being shot and floating in the water for almost a week after the ship exploded.” The name isn’t familiar to me, but I rem
ain silent while he relays everything he learned yesterday. “He described how he was enlisted and the role he played in the shooting, and the abductions of Anna and Waverly.” All the air seizes in my chest and I bite down hard on my bottom lip, controlling my dread. “One night, while tipping back several bottles of beer, the bartender gave him a note that read, ‘Your presence is requested for a special meeting, Charlie. Go to the storage room behind the bar.’ He couldn’t remember the bartender’s name. I don’t believe him.” I nod, trusting his judgment implicitly. “Once in the back room, he found a large packet with his name written beside ‘Captain,’ his new alias. Inside, it had a stack of money along with his criminal history, and pictures of him doing other illegal acts, which he refused to discuss. There was also a cell phone with a text, advising him that if he wants to stay out of prison he would accept the job. It warned that once he showed up at the next location, he was agreeing to follow through no matter the job.” Untangling his limbs, Marcus crawls up the bed, pressing his back against the headboard. “Of course, he accepted. His next location to meet was at the docks where he was ordered to board a ship named ‘The Enlisted.’ He also found another large packet containing a new phone with more instructions. He tossed the old one into the ocean before pocketing another, a larger stack of money, an ear piece and a gun.”
Marcus tips my chin up and kisses me sweetly. “Are you okay?” he asks, gazing deeply into my eyes.
Tears sting and I close my eyelids tightly before answering. “Yes, please continue.”
“His next directives had him arrive at the club at eight o’clock the night of the party. Using a code that was texted to him, he got into the black Mercedes SUV parked in the back parking lot. He waited for two more assassins who he was ordered to not speak with. Once inside, the men received further instructions via text message instructing them to drive to Granddad’s mansion. Once on the property, the positions for each of them were specific. He was on the side of the house, awaiting verbal instruction from the contact on the inside.” Marcus sighs heavily. There was someone watching us, playing God by giving the kill order. “One order was given, ‘Fire on the birthday girl and casualties are of no consequence.’” I hold back the gasp, lodging in my throat. “No matter the outcome of the shooting, they were told to blend in and escape immediately. Afterward, they met back at the boat at dawn, where there were more packages waiting for them. In addition to Charlie’s package labeled Captain, the other aliases where Jar-head and Major. Charlie recognized Jar-head as JV Ballard, but he was certain JV didn’t know him. He had no idea who the third guy was, but he gave a detailed description. Tac is meeting with the owner this week to set up interviews with Raithe and one of the city’s investigators. According to Charlie, this other guy kept observing them closely, almost like he was supervising them. Unlike Charlie and JV, he never had a weapon.”