Tortured Soul

by Kirsty Dallas

  Even though the sun had set hours earlier, I kept to the shadows of the tropical forest. The moon was too full and bright. Once I reached the villa, I quietly jumped over the waist high handrail, landing smoothly, barely disturbing the air around me. Four noiseless steps later I pushed my back against the wall. Before me was the endless black ocean, the dark depths broken only by shards of light reflected off the moon above. Ignoring the peaceful lapping water, I moved to the end of the stoop, and like a gymnast, I climbed onto the handrail and jumped the remaining foot to the balcony above. With only the strength of my arms, I managed to pull myself up until I could swing one foot up to gain leverage. Once I had climbed over the second railing, I paused to listen. Emily’s bedroom was not on this side of the villa. I assumed Jonas didn’t want her to have access to the balcony. I did know, however, that there were two rooms overlooking the beach and only one was occupied. The sliding door to that room was wide open, the curtains from within were billowing out into the night air in an attempt to free themselves of their bindings. That was my point of entry. Peering cautiously through the open doorway, I did a quick evaluation of the room within. Water ran in a steady stream from the bathroom off to one side, the door wide open. I couldn’t believe Nate had become so lax; he was renowned for being ruthlessly staunch with matters of security. I guess he really didn’t think anyone would bother coming for Emily. Nor was he concerned with her leaving. I heard the big guy moving around in the bathroom, heard the familiar sound of a shower door quietly closing and the break in the stream of water which indicated a body interrupting the flow. Without hesitation I moved into the room. The shower looked straight out into the bedroom, but as I expected, the guard had his head submerged under the water, his eyes closed. His weapons sat within reach on the vanity beside the shower stall. With fluid and efficient speed, I moved across the room and out into the wide hall. The only light filtering into the space came from the bedroom I had just passed through. I didn’t really need to see to know where to go; I knew Emily’s room was directly behind her guard’s. The door was closed and locked, but I had expected as much. I pulled a small satchel from one of the many pockets on my cargos and quickly opened it, my eyes glancing over the small tools. I had yet to encounter a lock that I could not get through. It took less than a minute before I heard the quiet click of the lock disengaging. Turning the handle carefully, I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me, without making a sound.

  Darkness greeted me as I entered her room. I put away the lock picking tools and made my way over to the bed. Moonlight filtered through the large window, which my sniper scope had peered through earlier, giving me enough muted light to see the sleeping form before me. Curled into a fetal position, her arms tightly wrapped around her bare legs, lay Emily. In the dim light I couldn’t see the scars that I knew marred her skin. Her body was lithe and beautiful, and right now, gloriously naked. It stirred something within me, the very appreciative male part of me, and I cursed myself. Emily had experienced enough unwanted male appreciation; she certainly didn’t need my arrogant ass checking her out. Shaking my head in annoyance and pulling the professional mask quickly back into place, I kneeled at her side. I wondered if she realized that during her vulnerable moments of sleep, she curled in on her body in almost a protective embrace. During the brief time I had spent with Emily, she had put on a brave front, showing no fear and even less emotion. She had lain in her hospital bed, her body rigidly positioned on her back the entire time, her arms held tight at her sides. Right now she seemed to have slipped back into the physique of the violated girl she truly was. Her hair was slightly longer, and the color was a little lighter; it suited her. Her cheeks were rounder, too; someone had been taking care of her regardless of her situation. She looked younger than she had in the hospital, less severe and almost virtuous, but I knew better. The girl had been used and abused to a point that I wasn’t sure she could emotionally recover from. Knowing what I had to do, I sighed and reached out my hand, placing it firmly over her lips. Emily’s eyes opened immediately, stark terror and heart wrenching horror etched in her pale blue depths. To see such sickening fear filled me with a rage unlike any I had ever felt. I quickly raised my finger to my lips signaling her to be quiet. The distress didn’t leave her eyes, but she gave me a small nod.

  “Hey, Em,” I whispered. I had taken to calling her that in the hospital back in Claymont, where she had been recovering from the beating William Levier had given her. Rebecca called her Em, and I figured she would find solace in that familiarity. Emily’s eyes softened just slightly and I pulled my hand away from her full lips. “I need you to get up, it’s time to go.”

  She didn’t move, just stared at me, her eyes almost calculating. “Where?” she finally asked in a hushed tone.

  At least she hadn’t said no.

  “Away from here.”

  The fear was back in her eyes, and her head shook from side to side as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She seemed oblivious to the fact she was naked.

  “No arguing, Em, we don’t have time for it,” I quietly growled. “Get up and get dressed.”

  “I can’t and I won’t. My life is here. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to leave and I would never. That’s why Nate is the only guard, and even he knows I won’t go anywhere. He doesn’t even lock my door anymore,” she hissed.

  “Well, he locked you in tonight,” I noted, looking through her empty closets and wondering where the hell her clothes were kept. I could always take her as she was—naked—but some primal part of me didn’t want anyone else gazing upon her stunning form. I clenched my jaw tight and shook away that possessive line of thought. I noticed a hamper when I peeked through the bathroom door and was about to go check it, when Emily’s small voice caught my attention.

  “Because I’ve been sold and they probably thought I’d try and leave.”

  I stopped what I was doing, and my body became rigid. No emotion had laced her words, not a single speck of fear or revolt. I turned to face her, unmasked fury no doubt on my face. Emily didn’t flinch under my furious gaze though. She didn’t move to cover herself as most women might have done. She sat in front of me, her shoulders back, her head held high. Her beautiful breasts were outlined under the soft moonlight. I almost groaned out loud. After everything she had been through, she was still defiantly strong and beautiful—a perfect combination.

  “Get up,” I whispered in a voice I knew would spark life into her submissive nature. Her eyes flared with recognition and ever so slowly, in a hesitant and confused manner, she rose from the bed. When her head threatened to lower in submission, I caught her chin with my fingers and lifted her gaze to mine. “We leave now. You either come willingly, or I will give you a sedative that will leave you vulnerable and unconscious.” Her nostrils flared ever so slightly under the quietly surprised intake of breath. She was taking too long to respond, so I reached for the syringe in my pocket.

  “I can’t,” she finally whispered. “I promised Jonas I wouldn’t leave, and, in return, he promised me no harm would come to B.”

  “Your sister is safe. I have my own people watching her and her friends. My security team knows men like Jonas; they can control the situation and keep Rebecca safe.” I left it at that, not wanting to get into the nitty gritty of the criminal aspect of my life right now, or ever for that matter. Her eyes flickered with indecision, and for a moment I thought I had won. The subtle movement in her body told me otherwise; she was going to fight me. Though I was glad she still held on to that belligerent spirit, I didn’t have time for it and preferred to leave the villa quietly, without dying and hopefully without killing. I had enough blood on my hands. I didn’t hesitate to throw her on the bed. I kept my weight pressed against her while I removed the syringe from my pocket. She struggled beneath me, but, much to her credit, she didn’t scream out. I pulled the protective sheath off the needle with my teeth. Emily’s eyes had that look again—unmistakable fear. It was so thick I
could almost smell it. Before plunging the syringe into her skin, I looked into her eyes.

  “I won’t hurt you, Em. You’re safe with me, I promise.”

  Her head began to shake in a violent rejection of my words and what I was about to do. I pushed the sedative into her vein, and while her pleading frightened eyes remained on me, I watched her as she became supple and quiet under my body. I hated doing that to her, scaring her like that, taking away her ability to defend herself. She had endured too much of that in her short life, and I swore right then she would never feel that fear again. I scooped her up from the bed and threw her over my shoulder fireman style. I would have preferred to have cradled her against my chest like the delicate flower she is, but I needed one hand free to reach for my weapons if I needed to. The running shower from the room next door had stopped, and I waited behind Emily’s closed door a moment, listening intently for any noise on the other side. When I heard nothing, I opened the now unlocked door, thankful for the noiseless hinges. A quick check of the hall proved it was empty. I pulled my Colt free just in case, feeling far more relaxed with the cold weight of the gun in my hand. I stepped into the hall and turned, making my way for the staircase at the end that would lead into an open living room. I would then slip out the doors that led to the porch, make my way down the beach to the inflatable, and be on my yacht within ten minutes. A subtle noise at my back got my attention and I turned quickly, my gun held straight and steady out in front of me. Nate had wandered into the hall, an empty plate in one hand and a glass in the other. He was dressed, a weapon no doubt on his person somewhere. He looked up, and his cold eyes landed on mine. Shock registered for a split second, and I offered him an arrogant smile.

  “If you survive this, tell Jonas I am taking back what’s mine.” Why I felt that possessive declaration of ownership was beyond me. “She isn’t his to worry about any more. If he harms her family, I will kill him. If he comes for Emily, I will kill him slowly and painfully.” Nate’s eyes flared with fury, and, as the plate and glass fell from his hands, I knew he was taking the only chance he had. He was going to go for his weapon. He moved simultaneously, lunging for the open doorway of the room beside him. I anticipated this though and moved my aim slightly to the right and fired. The force of the gunshot had Nate thrown back against the wall, a red splotch unfurling like a blooming flower over the white fabric of his shirt, right in the center of his chest. He slipped to the floor, not unconscious, but close enough.

  I made my way quickly down the stairs and out the glass doors. The breeze that blew across the sand smelled like ocean and salt, cooling my skin. The villa was behind me, Nate was more than likely dead or close to it, and Emily was safe. For now.

  CHAPTER 3

  EMILY

  My mouth was dry, tastelessly, uncomfortably dry. The heaviness in my limbs and the foggy depths of my mind told me right away that I had been drugged, again. I hated being drugged, being unable to defend myself if I needed to. Master Jonas only did it when I disobeyed or when he needed to transport me to a secret location. When he had taken me from Claymont to the Island, he had drugged me. I could only assume they had drugged me this time to move me to my new Master’s residence. My heart sank with the realization—I was most likely not in America any more. I had a new Master, a Russian Master. Would he treat me well? What would he expect of me? Would he share me? Would he hurt me like Master Jonas had? The doubts and fears combined with the lingering drugs in my system made me feel ill. I didn’t want to open my eyes, but I knew it didn’t make the situation any less real if I kept them clenched shut. Instead I gathered the courage and strength that had kept me alive this long and opened them.

  The room was dimly lit and I slowly took in my surroundings. It was a reasonably large room and quite opulent. The bed was unbelievably comfortable, adorned with fine quality clean sheets and a thick white comforter. A large flat screen TV was positioned on the wall in front of the bed. A small settee sat on my right, clothes folded in a neat pile atop it. Closed blinds covered a row of windows to my left and on that same side an open doorway led to a bathroom that appeared small but luxurious. Regardless of who my new Master was, he was obviously wealthy. That didn’t concern me one way or the other. Master Jonas had been wealthy. When I had been allowed to wear clothes, I had been adorned in the most lavish fabrics and expensive brands. Thousands of dollars in beauty treatments and spas had been thrown into my weekly regimen. My room had almost always been exceptionally extravagant and comfortable. None of it was worth the price I had to pay though. I was a slave, a whore. I was nothing more than a cheap, worthless elixir in an elaborately presented bottle.

  Feeling adequately satisfied that I was alone, I risked sitting up. Right away I was hit with the feeling that I was moving, a gentle sway back and forth. Holy shit! I was on a boat. My breathing hitched up a notch at the realization. To say I was uncomfortable on a boat was an understatement. For starters, I couldn’t swim and was terrified of the water because of it. I didn’t really care how fancy this boat was, I was immediately anxious. I barely noticed the door open, the gentle light from outside silhouetting the tall figure now standing in the doorway—my new Master. Ignoring my panic and the sickness in my stomach, I quickly slipped from the bed and fell to my knees, the thick carpet beneath me a tender cushion. I didn’t know what my new Master preferred so I assumed the position Master Jonas had drilled into me, my eyes downcast. I kept still, my breathing as calm and relaxed as I could manage. A deep sigh filled the quiet of the room. I didn’t hear his footsteps as he moved to stand before me. He was wearing boots, big dirty black boots, and I found that unusual for a man of his wealth, especially while taking a trip on this luxurious yacht. He got down on his haunches in front of me and put his strong finger under my chin. My head lifted to meet his gaze. I didn’t even attempt to hold back the gasp that escaped my lips. Braiden. Images from the night before flashed through my mind—he had taken me from Master Jonas. I began to tremble in fear; this was worse than being sold to a new master. This was worse than any punishment. This was downright terrifying. By stealing me away from Master Jonas, Braiden had put many lives at risk, my own being the least of my worries.

  “Rebecca is safe, her friends are safe, and you are safe,” he whispered.

  It didn’t stop my trembling because I didn’t believe him. I had no reason to.

  “I have contacts outside of law enforcement that are at my disposal. I have assigned two men to shadow Rebecca and Charlie and one man to each of their closest friends. They are safe.”

  I took a few deep breaths and let his words sink in. I wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘outside law enforcement,’ but it comforted me somewhat. The police were no match for Master Jonas.

  “I am not your Master. You don’t need to fall to your knees for me, do you understand?”

  I blinked once, twice, and then shook my head ever so slowly. “Who is my Master?” I finally whispered, my voice so low I’m surprised he heard me.

  Braiden’s eyes latched onto mine. “You don’t have a master anymore, Em. Your life is yours to live as you see fit.”

  My mouth fell open with shock. What did he mean, I don’t have a master anymore? Who would clothe me? Who would feed me? I began to tremble again. My once numb, frozen heart and mind were bombarded with emotions that were scattered and confused. I didn’t even know how to begin a day without a command. Did I shower first? Should I be clothed? When would I eat? My life for many years had been lived by command; I needed it. Even after Master Jonas had given me to William, I had still lived a life with a strict regimen, I had still been collared. My body tried to fight the emotions that flooded my limbs, the trembling that had invaded my senses. My head swirled and dizziness consumed my senses. I swayed on my knees and black dots clouded my vision.

  “Breathe, Emily!” Braiden’s deep commanding voice cut through my panic. “Long deep breaths, in and out.”

  I followed Braiden’s lead and matched my breathing to his.
I calmed myself down and pushed back the tears that threatened to spill. Tears were a weakness that would get me nowhere.

  Braiden’s head tilted slightly as he seemed to consider me. “You fear not having a master,” he carefully noted.

  I couldn’t respond; the words were lost in confusion and my scattered thoughts. The pounding in my heart echoed loudly in my ears. My mouth had been dry from the drugs in my system, but now I couldn’t even find enough moisture to swallow. I opened my mouth in an attempt to say something, but the words were stuck in my throat.

  “Drink this.” Braiden held out a tall glass of water. I tried to hold the cool glass to my lips, but the shaking in my hands caused the liquid to spill. Drops of ice cold water fell down my chest, between my breasts and down my stomach. I barely noticed it though, my mind and body were hostage to panic. “Em!” Braiden said, taking the glass. His other hand clamped the back of my head hard, forcing my eyes to his. “Settle down, Malen’kaya, I’ve got you now.”

  I took more long deep breaths and watched the dark depths of Braiden’s eyes, allowing his low murmured words to settle into my conscious thought. His eyes never left mine; the dominance and strength I found in them was soothing. After what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, I had calmed enough to allow Braiden to raise the glass to my lips. My hands remained limply in my lap as he helped me take slow sips from the cool liquid. I finished the entire glass before he pulled away. Still on his haunches in front of me, he shook his head and frustration settled on his features. Was he already disappointed with me? Was he going to punish me? Whatever he was feeling it disappeared under a determined stare.