Hard Times: A Dark Captive Romance

by C. Hallman

  Ryker swings the bathroom door open and steam billows out into the bedroom. “What are you doing in here? We talked about this.” Before Hunter can give him an answer, Ryker yanks him into the bathroom and slams the door shut.

  Should I try to get out now? While they’re in there? I consider it and even drape myself over the bed, ready to reach under to find the key again. I can hear them talking, loud and angry.

  “I fucking told you!”

  The sound of Ryker losing his cool and shouting at Hunter stops me. Hunter yells something back, but it’s sort of garbled, like he’s having a hard time putting words together. Still, there’s obvious anger, even fury in his voice. What’s happening between them?

  Can I make it work to my advantage?

  Glass breaks and I flinch remembering sitting in my bedroom, knees against my chest, hands over my ears as things broke elsewhere in the house. I’m not a kid anymore and covering my ears won’t make any difference, but that doesn’t mean I can help the rising panic in my chest. No way I’ll be able to get away now, not when I can’t make my hands stop shaking.

  My stare remains glued to the door as it slowly opens, revealing a flushed Hunter. Ryker follows close behind, glaring at the back of Hunter’s head. Whatever happened has him ready to spit nails, that’s obvious. I wish I knew what they were fighting about.

  “Are you okay?” Backed up against the headboard, I glance from one of them to the other, totally helpless. I hope they don’t decide to take their fight out on me somehow.

  Hunter holds my gaze for a long time before finally responding, “I’m going to my room now.”

  I press my lips together to stop myself from begging him to stay. It’s not only the sneaking suspicion that he’s not a fan of what Ryker has in mind for me, either. Though that’s a big part of it.

  I want him to hold me.

  I want his nearness and his warmth and the completely bizarre sense of safety I feel when I’m in his arms.

  He’s the last person in the world I should feel safe with, but it’s been a tough week. Why should things make sense now?

  He doesn’t leave, just stares at me. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, and the way his nostrils flare makes it obvious he’s fighting something. What is it? Guilt? Is he capable of that? I wish I knew.

  What I know is I don’t want him to leave. I wish I could stand and hold out my arms and beg him not to go.

  I won’t beg. I’ll die with at least a little dignity—if I’m not able to get away, that is. But I’ll for damn sure try.

  “Hunter? I thought you were going to your room.” Ryker gives him a little shove, not hard enough to make him stumble but enough to get the point across. “You’d better get going.”

  Hunter’s eyes never leave me and I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think there was regret in them. That the hardened criminal is capable of regret. Then again, he loves and protects his sister, right? He has weaknesses the same as anybody else. I’m wondering if I’ve become one of those weaknesses. Whether I was the thing he and Ryker were fighting about.

  If that’s the case… will he stop this insanity?

  His hands, hanging by his sides, clench into fists, and it looks like Hunter’s on the verge of saying something. He draws a breath as I hold mine and this is it. This is when he’s going to stand up for me and save my life. He will not back down.

  All it takes is his eyes meeting Ryker’s for him to slump just a little. “Yeah. I’m going.”

  No, no, this can’t be. He can’t do this. Not when he was so close to saving me. I refuse to believe it, even as he turns away and trudges to the door leading out to the hall. Even when he touches the doorknob, then turns it.

  I only accept it’s no use when he’s out of the room and the door closes.

  And my heart feels like it’s about to tear itself out of my chest, because even with the way he looked at me with obvious regret, he’ll still let this happen.

  I’m still going to die.

  15

  Eyes wide open, I concentrate on breathing evenly in and out. With the room draped in darkness, keeping my lids pried open is the only thing stopping me from falling asleep.

  I mull over the possibility of Ryker doing the same. Maybe he is fighting to stay awake just the same. Or he is really going to sleep and Hunter is going to wake him so they can kill me together. The thought pains me, and I briefly think about how odd this is, because somehow my feelings have twisted together. I’m still mad at them for taking me and planning my murder, but on top of that there lingers betrayal and sadness.

  When I feel like an eternity has passed, and Ryker is asleep, I slowly start moving. With every inch I scoot, I expect Ryker to wake up, but he remains still and silent.

  Reaching my hand down, I touch along the underside of the bed frame. My heart beats furiously against my ribcage, but when my fingers slide over the key, I swear my heart is coming out of my chest. It’s beating so furiously; I can’t believe the loud thump is not waking Ryker up.

  I unhook the key and carefully bend down to unlock the cuff. Not breathing, I climb out of bed and away from the warmth of Ryker’s body. I instantly miss it. A chill runs down my spine, reminding me to keep going.

  On shaky legs, I tiptoe to the door and feel for the handle. When my trembling fingers touch the cold metal, I sigh in relief. That tiny moment of reprieve vanishes as I hear movement behind me.

  I spin around and peer into the darkness, moments before I’m slammed into the door behind me. Ryker shoves me against the hard surface, knocking all the air from my lungs.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” he growls, making me shiver. This time, from the coldness in his voice. This is the part where Ryker is showing me his true self, where the man from the file is coming to play.

  There was a chance I would not survive this night, but now I’m certain that I’m not only going to die, but it will also be painful.

  My lungs fill with air one last time before Ryker’s hand is around my throat, squeezing hard enough to make me lightheaded almost immediately. My knees go weak and I’m on the verge of passing out when Ryker drags me to the bed.

  He throws me on it and I yelp out in pain when I use my injured wrists to brace myself. I don’t have long to worry about that pain though, because Ryker is on me the next second. His hand finds my throat once more, but his grip is a little more controlled now, unlike my heartbeat.

  “I’m so–” I apologize, even though I’m not sorry at all. Ryker shuts me up with a squeeze.

  “Don’t you dare.” He holds onto my throat while brutally yanking down my pants with the other hand. “You don’t get to apologize. It’s time for you to find out what happens to people I can’t trust.”

  I’m dry down there, but that doesn’t matter. Ryker spits on me, then on his palm before rubbing it over his shaft. When he shoves inside me, I moan in dismay and discomfort bordering on pain, but I can’t get enough air to make more than a squeak.

  “Time for you to remember who’s in charge.” He batters me mercilessly, sawing savagely in and out. I try to take his hand from my throat, but that only makes him grip me tighter than before.

  He pushes my shirt up, exposing me, before pinching my nipple hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “Don’t like that?” He laughs before doing it again. “I don’t like when people betray my trust. And I fucking hate empty apologies like you tried to give.”

  I don’t know which hand to claw at so I choose both, but I might as well try to fight smoke. It’s no use.

  He leans down until our noses touch, moving in and out of me all the time. “You don’t make the rules. We do. You betray us and this is what you get.”

  It’s a blessing when he releases my throat and lets me breathe again, and another blessing when he pulls out. I’m sore and shaking from head to toe.

  Stupid me, thinking he finished.

  All he did was pause to flip me onto my stomach. When pressure pushes against my virgin ass
hole, my body goes stiff. “Not there. Please, not there.”

  “Innocent, huh?” Spit hits my crack and dribbles down. “You think I give a shit about what you want? About what you beg me not to do?”

  “Please. Don’t hurt me.” It’s ridiculous I’m saying this because he’s already hurt me—and not only physically.

  He settles for pressing what feels like his thumb against my rear entrance while filling my pussy with his cock again. By now my treacherous body has responded to him and I’m slick, ready for more in body if not in spirit.

  “I’ll fuck this ass one day.” He grunts, fucking me hard enough to make me bite back a sob. It’s like he wants to tear me apart from the inside out. His thumb breaches my asshole and begins creeping inside. He laughs when I gasp in dismay.

  “What? I’m being gentle, aren’t I?” He goes deeper, invading my ass in time with his thrusts. “I’m not taking this virgin asshole because you asked me not to. I’m being merciful. Thank me.”

  “What?”

  “Thank me.” He yanks my hair with his free hand, pulling my head back at a painful angle. “Say, thank you for not fucking my ass.”

  “Th-thank you… for not… fucking my ass!” Only when I finish saying it does he let go of my hair, choosing to press down on the back of my neck and drive my face into the mattress.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t move. He doesn’t care.

  And neither does my body, since I’m close to coming. My muscles tighten around him and he laughs, slamming harder into me as my body convulses. “Don’t pretend you don’t like this, Sugar.”

  I won’t. I can’t. What’s wrong with me for enjoying being treated this way? By someone who is going to kill me.

  He thrusts with an animalistic grunt a few more times before his movement halts and he spills his cum inside of me. When he finally releases me, I roll onto my back, just in time to watch him stepping back from the bed. I’m boneless, sweating, tears are rolling down my cheeks and I can hardly breathe.

  And damn it, I feel glorious. Aching and sore, but glorious.

  It takes a while for me to work my way to my feet. Only when I’m up, and Ryker’s cum is running out of my pussy, do I realize he came inside of me. I guess we don’t have to worry about pregnancy when I’ll die anyway.

  Ryker leans against the dresser. Our eyes meet and I ask silently for permission to go to the bathroom. He nods, and I shuffle past him to go pee. I close the door behind me but leave it cracked open. He had his tongue on my asshole yesterday, so who cares if he hears me pee.

  I sit down on the toilet, wincing as I do since he was anything but gentle down there. But I’m in one piece. I’m alive.

  I’m fucking glowing, too. Practically radiant in the mirror over the sink. How much more twisted is this going to get?

  Once I’m cleaned up, I return to the bedroom. Ryker’s sitting on the edge but gets up when I join him, moving to the other side of the room. Something tells me it wasn’t enough to take me the way he just did. He’s scowling, staring at the floor, muttering to himself.

  “I guess you taught me a lesson, huh?” I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself, “You showed me who’s boss.”

  “Knock it off.”

  I should, but who cares? I’ll be dead soon enough. Might as well throw caution out the window now. “No, really. I’m sure you feel much better now that you almost choked me, then almost smothered me. But you’re a good guy since you didn’t shove that cock of yours into my ass. Bravo.”

  He raises his head and the look in his eyes makes me shudder. “I could call my friends in and have them take turns on you. You realize that, right? All because you keep trying to be tricky. You can’t just—”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t I want to save myself? What, you expect me to sit here and take being locked up without at least making an attempt? I had to try to run!”

  “Why? Why are you running?” Ryker yells, pacing the room. “Haven’t we treated you well?”

  “Cut the bullshit!” I scream in his face. “I heard you. I know you are going to kill me tonight.”

  That shuts him up. He stops dead in his tracks and like air escaping a popped balloon, all his anger dissipates.

  After a long stretch of silence, he walks over to me and sits on the bed.

  “There is no other way,” he says apologetic without actually apologizing.

  “I know…” Don’t I fucking know.

  16

  “So, what happens now?” I stand in the room awkwardly.

  “Let’s just go back to bed.”

  “Why don’t we just get it over with. I already know I won’t wake up.” I’m surprised by how easily the words come out. I’m scared, I don’t want to die, but part of me has already expected it. I won’t be part of this world for much longer, and I guess I won’t care once I’m dead. Just like I didn’t care about my existence before I was alive.

  “I just want you to go to sleep peacefully.”

  “How? How are you going to do it?”

  “Eli is a chemist. He made some kind of gas. We are going to seal and fill the room once you’re asleep. Eli promised you won’t feel anything.”

  I don’t know why I care or asked this next question, but I want to know. “What are you going to do with my body?”

  “There is actually a crematory down here.”

  “Wow, they really thought about everything,” I joke half-heartedly. Ryker doesn’t care about my joke since his perpetual frown only deepens.

  We climb into the bed together, and I watch Ryker prepare to cuff me.

  “You don’t have to do that. Seriously, I’m done fighting,” I tell him honestly. “I just want you to hold me until I go to sleep.” He must believe me, because without thinking too long he drops the cuff to the ground. The metal clinks as it hits the concrete floor.

  I turn onto my side, and Ryker molds his body against mine.

  “Hunter isn’t here because he couldn’t do it. We had to drug him so he wouldn’t interfere. I don’t want you to think he doesn’t care about you. He is sorry.”

  “Are you sorry that you have to kill me?”

  “Very,” he answers without having to think about it, and I believe him. I believe that this crazy, violent, criminal has that shred of empathy left.

  “Would it help if I’ll forgive you?”

  “Why would you do that, Sugar?”

  “I would… I really, really would, if you promise to do something for me.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Kill someone for me.”

  There’s a sharp intake of breath behind me, and Ryker’s body tenses. His arms tighten a little, too, though that could be involuntary. Surprise can do that. And I’m sure I’ve surprised him. Don’t most people have last words of love and forgiveness and stuff like that?

  Yeah. No. Not gonna happen for me.

  His breath stirs my hair when he asks, “Who do you want dead?”

  “The man who used to be my stepfather.” There’s hardness in my voice and I welcome it. I need him to know how serious this is. “I want him dead. If I can’t be alive to do it, at least I’ll die at peace knowing you’ll take care of him for me.”

  “Why do you want him dead? Did he hurt you? Do things to you?”

  “Not what you are thinking.” I take a deep, shuddery breath. It’s like pulling a scab off a wound that will never, ever heal. “He killed my mom.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “I’ve never talked about it before. It’s been too hard to talk about. But I might as well get it over with now. He finally ended up beating her to death after trying many, many times. I mean, not that I think he was deliberately trying to kill her—”

  “I get what you mean.”

  “That’s why this bracelet means so much. She gave it to me. It’s all I have besides memories.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I really am.” He grunts. “What happened to him? He ran, I guess?”

  A
bitter laugh comes out of me at that one. “Nope. They arrested him that night. It’s not like the entire force didn’t know what a piece of shit he was. How many times he hurt her. They always acted like their hands were tied—I don’t know, maybe they were. Now that I’m on the other side, I know how tough it can be to arrest and prosecute somebody like him. I figured there was no way for him to slip out of their grip once he killed my mother, though. I was wrong.”

  “They let him go?”

  “They let him go. Something about not following proper protocol when they arrested him. Maybe they were too concerned with not getting my mother’s blood on them, since it covered him in it. I have no idea. All I know is, he walked. And I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Jesus Christ. I never thought I’d be this pissed about somebody getting away from the police.” He holds me a little closer. “So, you became a cop. Because of that?”

  “Partly. Yeah, I wanted the resources to find him. But it was more than that. I… wanted to keep other women from dying the way she did. I wanted to make a difference and help people. Kids who listened to their moms getting the shit beat out of them. Feeling helpless. And hating him… God, how I fucking hate him.” Tears flow down my cheeks, hot and furious. I let them flow. It feels sort of good, like I’m confessing for the last time before dying.

  “And is that why they let you on the force, even when you were unfit to serve?”

  I snicker. “You’re fast. Yes, that’s why. The chief knew he owed me one, so he looked the other way.”

  He’s quiet for a long time, so long I wonder if he fell asleep. I’m almost sure he did until he speaks, “What’s his name?”

  “Eric. Eric Saunders. I never took his last name.” And if I had, I would’ve changed it back.

  “Eric Saunders. Got it. He’s dead.” Just like that. Like he’s adding ice cream to the shopping list.

  “You sound so sure. How do you think you’re going to find him? I couldn’t, and I have access to police files.”

  “You want to know why Derik is still alive?”

  “Because he is a useful jerk?”