Hard Times: A Dark Captive Romance

by C. Hallman

  “Just dealing with some stuff,” he keeps his answer vague. “Don’t worry, he didn’t leave. You’ll see him tonight.”

  “How do you know the other guys? You seem close. I didn’t read…” I trail off.

  “You didn’t read anything in my file about them?” Ryker finishes the sentence for me. “You can’t put everything about me in a folder.”

  “Sorry.” I smile halfheartedly. “You can put everything about me in one folder. I guess your life is way more interesting than mine.”

  “I doubt that,” he tells me, just as we finish our first lap.

  “You can doubt that all you want, doesn’t make it any less true.”

  Ryker seems to mull my statement over before he answers my earlier question. “We all grew up together. Same neighborhood, same school, same trouble we got into. Derick was always a prick, if you were wondering. Unfortunately, he is a useful prick.”

  “That sounds nice. I mean, not the prick or the trouble part. I was talking about the growing up together. I don’t really have any close friends. No siblings. No family. But you already know that from my folder.” I try to make another lighthearted joke, but it’s really more sad than anything.

  “That sounds lonely.”

  More than you could ever understand.

  We finish the second round when I realize how tired I still am. My body is sore and exhausted, but I don’t want him to take me back to bed.

  “Can we sit down for a bit?”

  “Sure,” Ryker agrees and pulls me toward a bench.

  Never letting go of my arm, we take a seat. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, I lean my head against his shoulder.

  My mind knows this is all just a front. He is plotting to kill me while I’m snuggling into his side. My brain tells me to run away, but my body urges me to get closer.

  Even if this is just a game, I don’t mind playing it. I don’t mind pretending for a bit longer.

  “You want me to take you back to bed?”

  “No,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to go to sleep again.”

  “I wasn’t talking about sleeping,” Ryker says. Of course, he still wants sex. Flashes of him taking my mouth roughly the other night run through my head, and my breathing speeds up. Only now they are mixed with Derick’s cruel hands, shoving his fingers inside of me painfully. I hate the power he holds over me, and I wonder if I can get through it with Ryker and Hunter without breaking down.

  “Can I take a bath first?” I ask.

  “Sure, let’s get you all bubbled up.”

  Ryker helps me up from the bench and we head back to the room. As we step out into the hallway, voices meet my ear. They are coming from down the hall and my head snaps into the direction automatically.

  What I see next has jealousy tightening my chest and churning my stomach.

  Hunter stands at the end of the hallways with his arms wrapped around a petite woman. He hugs her tight as she buries her face in his chest.

  I don’t want to pry her away because I’m in love with Hunter or feel like I have a claim on him. No, the kind of jealousy I’m experiencing comes from a place of longing. I’ve been jealous a few times in my life, but nothing compares to this soul-crushing emotion expanding in my chest right this second. I’m so fucking lonely that I would do anything for Hunter to hold me like he is holding this woman right now. Having a ticking clock hanging over my head makes me see everything clearer, makes me feel more deeply, because I know my time might be up soon.

  Reality hits that I’ll never get to experience what I’m looking at. I’ll never know what it feels like for someone to wrap their arms around me like they can protect me from the world. I’ll never experience what it feels like to have a family, to be cherished, safe, and above all… loved.

  “Come on.” Ryker tugs on my arm, making me jump. I was so captivated I forgot he was there for a second.

  Hunter’s head tips up and his gaze finds mine. His green eyes darken before he turns his body away from me, taking the girl with him. It’s odd because it seems like he is trying to keep her safe from me.

  When I don’t move, Ryker snakes his arm around my waist and starts pushing me down the hall. My legs have no choice but to oblige.

  “Who was that?” I ask, knowing damn well he will not answer me.

  “Don’t ask questions right now,” Ryker hisses.

  His brassiness only twists the knife in deeper.

  I mean nothing to him.

  I’m nothing to either of them, and I need to keep this in mind.

  11

  After being stuck inside four bare walls, furniture and decoration are a pleasant change.

  I wouldn’t say Hunter’s room is cluttered, but it’s larger and more furnished than Ryker’s room. I’m guessing that’s the reason I haven’t been in here before. More stuff equals more possible weapons. There is a reason everything gets taken away in prison, because with a little imagination, ordinary things can quickly turn into a dangerous object.

  Ryker walks me into the attached bathroom, and my gaze lands on the large claw-foot tub on the far right. I almost moan, anticipating soaking in a hot bubble bath. While he starts the water, I stand at the door.

  He grabs bath salts front the cabinet and adds a generous amount to the water. “This has Epson salt in it. You’re going to feel better after this.”

  I can’t make any sense out of him. How sweet he’s acting. How gentle his voice sounds. Entranced, I watch him add a capful of soap to the water running out of the tap and voila. Bubbles. He wasn’t kidding about them.

  There’s an earnestness on his face when he unfolds himself from his bent position over the tub. “This’ll do, right?” Does he want to please me? No, this is probably more like mercy, like people who know their pets are about to cross the rainbow bridge and make their last hours as comfortable as possible.

  I realize he’s waiting for an answer, so my head bobs up and down. “Yeah, it’ll do.” Steam rises from the water and the luscious scent of lavender and vanilla meet my nose. It’s almost possible to relax.

  “Gotta be careful with that hand, though. Don’t want to get your bandages wet.” He helps me undress, taking his time, almost painfully careful with my wrist and hand. Even so, I can’t help but take a sharp breath. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” And I’m not talking about right now, either. It isn’t his fault his psychotic friend tried raping me. The bastard.

  Still, my revived anger dies as I lower myself into the tub with Ryker’s help. Funny the things you take for granted. Like having two working hands to grip the sides of a bathtub.

  “Easy now,” he murmurs.

  Soon I’m chest-deep in the heavenly steamy, fragrant water.

  A tiny laugh escapes me. This is beyond the absurd. A bubble bath two days before my murder. Nobody would believe it. I sure don’t.

  “What are you doing?”

  It’s like he can’t hear my question, or chooses not to. Instead, he dips a thick washcloth into the water before running it over my body.

  “Relax, Sugar. This is all about you. Okay?”

  Relax. Easy for him to say. I have two days left to live, and he wants me to relax? Now I’m envisioning something more along the lines of being a sacrifice for these guys. Like when ancient people would bathe and perfume their sacrifice and dress the poor girl or guy up in special clothes before taking them to a temple and slitting their throats.

  Well, neither of my captors seem like they’d know anything about that, but there’s no telling. Both have a strange, keen intelligence I wish I could unlock. Their files mentioned their mental prowess, but I couldn’t have imagined the extent until I met them.

  “You’re a million miles away, Sugar.” Ryker slides the cloth up my arm, reaching my shoulder.

  “Wouldn’t you be if your life had an expiration date on it?” I stop short of telling him I overheard their plans, but just barely.

  He snickers, rubbing my sh
oulder. “Sugar, life always has an expiration date.” I guess I can understand that. “The point is enjoying every minute you have. Don’t you know that?”

  The combination of Epsom salt and his gentle kneading makes my muscles loose and, well, it’s wonderful. Instead of moving down my back the way I expect him to, he washes my chest, slow and teasing. He must feel my heart pounding away and I really wish it wouldn’t betray me. I don’t want him to know what he does to me.

  Try as I might, there’s no holding back a soft gasp when he rubs his thumb over my already peaked nipple. “Why waste time worrying?” His voice is lower now, seductive, mixing with the heat from the water and smell of the soap, creating a blanket of confused pleasure all around me.

  I want to go along with what he’s saying—and judging from the way my breath picks up speed the lower his hand dips, my body does, too. By the time he’s below my navel, I’ve already spread my thighs as wide as the tub will allow me.

  A glance at him reveals a knowing smirk. “See? Once you get out of your head and relax, your body knows what to do.”

  I wish he’d stop talking and keep touching me, because the fire in my core has nothing to do with the water’s heat. I pull my lower lip under my teeth when he cups my mound and massages it. “So sweet, this pussy.” He groans. “You have no idea how much I want this cunt wrapped around my cock.”

  I barely bite back a moan as my head falls against the rim of the tub.

  “That’s right, Sugar. Let go. Let me make you feel good.” He ditches the cloth in favor of parting my lips with his fingers, running them up and down the inside of my cleft while avoiding my clit. This time I groan out loud—I need release and he’s torturing me.

  “Once you’re better tomorrow, all bets are off. Fair warning.” He chuckles, dark and promising, but the sound cuts off when he finally contacts my clit and I moan into the steamy air. He rubs in slow, deliberate circles. “I’m going to fuck you until you weep with pleasure. You’ll lose track of the number of times I make you come on my cock.”

  I could weep right now, lifting my hips, the air hitting my nipples when I do and making them harder than ever. He uses his other hand to play with them and his breathing gets faster, harsher along with mine as he whispers filthy things in my ear. “Come for me, Annie.”

  Just then he pinches one nipple while with the other hand teases me with tiny, rapid flicks against my clit and I’m lost, shooting up out of the water as a broken cry tears itself from my throat.

  A cry that threatens to turn into a sob the instant reality comes hurtling back. My life has a timer on it. There won’t be much more of this.

  “Let’s get you dried off before you prune.” Ryker stands and just about hits me in the face with the bulge in his pants before turning away to grab a towel. He could’ve forced himself into my mouth but didn’t. Why didn’t he?

  He takes just as much care in drying me off, then escorts me back to Hunter’s room. “He’ll have clothes in here.” He opens a dresser drawer while I shiver, wrapped in a towel.

  The sight of light glinting off metal catches my eye. A gun. Tucked inside the sock drawer.

  My heart slams against my ribs hard enough that I’m afraid Ryker will hear it. He’s not paying attention, though, and opens another drawer to pull out a t-shirt. Like he either didn’t notice the gun or doesn’t think I did.

  This is my time.

  Only it’s not, since in the split second between deciding to go for it and reaching for the drawer, the door opens and in walks Hunter with a tray of sandwiches. I let my hand fall to my side and bite back frustration. I was so close.

  “How was your bath?” Hunter leaves the tray on the bed, snagging half of what looks like turkey and cheese for himself and taking a big bite. Does he seem any different from when I last saw him? Like he just got laid by that girl he was hugging? Why the hell do I care?

  “Great. I’m more comfortable now,” I say, hoping I am a good enough actress to pull off the lie.

  The sandwich tastes like sawdust, but I choke it down without looking at the dresser. I can’t let them know I saw what’s inside.

  He’s barely finished licking the last of the mustard from his fingers before he goes to the door again. “I’d better get back to…” He and Ryker exchange a look, and I know he’s talking about her. Whoever she is.

  Good. Let him get back to her so I can do what needs doing. I’ll only have one chance, so I can’t hesitate or have second thoughts. No matter how nice they’ve been to me, they’re criminals. Insane. Violent. And they plan to kill me.

  It’s me or them.

  “Do you mind if I grab something long-sleeved?” I shiver and rub my arm with my good hand. “I’m chilly.”

  Ryker nods with a mouthful of food. “Mm-hmm.” He gestures toward the dresser before going back to his sandwich. This is almost too easy. Like instead of getting me to drop my defenses, he’s done it to himself.

  I’d thank him for that, but I’m too busy opening the sock drawer and pulling the gun, spinning on my heel, and aiming at his forehead. His mouth falls open in shock, like he doesn’t believe I would hurt him.

  “Let me go, or I fire,” I warn in a voice I normally reserve for perps I’m about to arrest.

  He blinks, then slowly rises from the bed. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “I don’t think so. Let me go.”

  “I can’t do that.” He even shrugs a little. “So you’re gonna have to drop the damn gun. Now.”

  “Not happening.” My aim doesn’t falter. Good thing it wasn’t my right hand that got hurt.

  “Then you’re going to have to put a bullet in my head, Annie.” The word is a snarl. “Because you’re not leaving on my watch. Go ahead. Pull the fucking trigger.”

  I will. I should.

  My index finger rests on the trigger. Only one little pull. I’ve fired a gun a thousand times. It’s easy. The trigger has barely any resistant, but right now it might as well be fifty pounds.

  I can’t. I can’t fucking do it.

  Fuck, why can’t I? He’s closing in on me, advancing with small steps while I retreat until I press my back against the wall and have nowhere left to go.

  “Do. It,” Ryker pronounces each word, taunting me to kill him.

  I can’t bring myself to do it because damn it, he has people who depend on him. Who love him. Who’d miss him. Family. I don’t have anybody. No one is going to care if I’m gone.

  “Come on!” He finally reaches me, pressing his forehead to the muzzle. “Do it, then! Shoot me if you’re gonna shoot me, you fucking coward!” His eyes are wild, unhinged. Simply terrifying. If I don’t pull the trigger now, he’ll kill me today.

  Still, I can’t do it.

  I’m just about to drop the gun, when the door flies open hard enough to send it rebounding off the wall. Hunter steps into the room, sizing up the situation in one glance.

  I lower the gun, not because I’m scared or outnumbered… because I want to.

  Because I don’t want to kill him.

  Hunter stalks toward us and stops behind Ryker. Putting his hands on both of his shoulders, he pulls him away from me. “Come on. Cool off. Get out of here.” He shoves Ryker out of the room before closing, then locking the door.

  “That was a mistake.” He takes the gun from me and I don’t bother trying to fight him because I lost my opportunity, if there ever was one. “And it’s obvious we’ve been too lax with you.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask when he drops to one knee and reaches into his back pocket. I know soon enough when a cuff snaps around my ankle.

  The other cuff goes around his. “Making sure you don’t get any other cute ideas.” It takes effort, but we climb into bed—I don’t bother fighting as he helps me over a little more roughly than he needs to—and lie down facing each other.

  I keep my eyes shut to avoid looking at him as he stares at me. Soon enough, sleep rescues me from consciousness.

  12

>   “Who’s that?”

  My head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It’s breakfast time, and I was in the middle of forcing scrambled eggs down my throat when a stranger entered the room. It’s bad enough I’m afraid to so much as lift my gaze or clear my throat. Now there’s somebody asking questions about me and sounding irritated when they do.

  The girl from yesterday, the one I saw hugging Hunter. She’s still here.

  And she’s staring at me with eyes capable of burning holes.

  Hunter clears his throat. “Don’t worry about it, okay?” He glances at Eli, who’s standing next to the girl—they entered the room together while I sit here with my head down to avoid meeting Ryker’s rage-filled glare.

  Eli seems to get the hint. “I’m starving. It smells good in here.” He wanders across the room like the tension isn’t enough to choke a person. Maybe he doesn’t sense it since he’s not the one Ryker keeps shooting dirty looks at. I don’t need to see him to feel the heat and weight of his glare.

  “Eggs and bacon on the stove,” Ryker growls this through gritted teeth. “Potatoes in the oven.”

  He’s mad at me. No surprise there. Frankly, it’s hypocritical as hell for him to take this attitude, but I know better than to point that out. These men kidnapped me and have been holding me hostage and plan to kill me, but oh, no, God forbid I try to fight back. He’s got the nerve to have an attitude.

  Meanwhile, the girl is still staring at me. “Who is she?” she asks Hunter with her hands on her hips.

  “I asked you not to worry about it, didn’t I?” He’s gentle with her, almost loving, but there’s an edge to his voice. “I’m serious.”

  “I only wanted to know why she’s here.” She flips dark hair over one shoulder and looks me up and down while I do my damndest to get through my meal. Anything, so long as I can get this over with.

  My last full day of living and this is what greets me. A resentful Ryker and some girl who clearly hates me. Considering the way she buried her face in Hunter’s chest, I’m guessing her curiosity is deeply personal.