by S. R. Jones
Over twelve hours later, and I’m in the same room I was in before, when all this started, except the cameras are showing nothing. Nick isn’t there, and neither is Abi.
Ethan called to let me know he was on his way, and then Reece called to say his Russian friend is in on helping us and making his way here, too, which gives me the fucking creeps to be frank. She’ll be safe back in England at least. Protected.
Can’t protect her though if we can’t find her. Reece got onto tracking Jay down, which he’s done, and we’re about to go to his place. I’m so far behind her and Nick it makes my stomach churn. I imagine the things the sick fuck might do to her in the time it’s taken me to get here and Reece to get the info, and my mind screams as the images stutter by like something out of a stop-motion horror film.
We’re on our own, too, until Ethan gets here. I trust Howard, but the bare fact remains he’s got a leak somewhere in his operation, and until he shuts that shit down, I won’t be sharing any info with him.
Ethan is due in to New York in around four hours or so. Luka won’t be coming as we made the decision in the end not to tell him. One more man won’t make that much difference to us, and with Cara pregnant and apparently, according to Ethan, not feeling too good, we don’t want him to feel obliged to leave her right now. And he would.
I pace the small, airless room, as Reece sorts out the assorted weaponry we’ll be taking. I thank God we’re in a country where this shit is legal to carry because twice now back in the UK we’ve risked jail simply because of the weapons we had on us. Although, that’s all going to change when we get back.
In the midst of all the shit going down, I got a call from a senior government official who wants us to do some close protection work in a month’s time for a visiting African dignitary who has a number of targets on his head. He’s sorting out extended permits for my team to be armed.
“Okay. We’re ready. Locked and loaded.” Reece turns to me with a small smile.
The man is huge. We’re all big. But Reece is massive. He’s got muscle on muscle, and a naturally broad as fuck build anyway. He makes an imposing figure and due to his size almost didn’t get selected for the SBS. He’s so tall and big it seems the brass thought he’d be too striking a figure to be able to blend in as some of our missions demand. However, due to his fluent Russian it seemed some in high up places believed he could be of use in the former Soviet bloc nations, where sometimes things were going down. On quite a few of the missions I led in places like Afghanistan, Reece wouldn’t be on the team. He’d be doing God knows what in the Crimea or somewhere.
Now, it seems those days are coming back to pay dividends for me and Abi, and I’m as grateful as fuck.
He claps my back with one of his giant paws. “Come on, bro. Get your head in the game.”
I nod.
“We go and save the damsel in distress, and then you and her live happily ever after in your castle, right?” He gives me a shit eating grin.
My own smile in return is tight against my skin. Forced. I’ll be saving the damsel in distress alright, but then I’ll be letting her go. I’m not what she needs, and she keeps proving that by her actions. She doesn’t trust me. If she did, she’d have told me about Nick’s call and let me deal.
She might have shared some secrets with me during our whispered night of confessions, but deep down she doesn’t trust me. And deep down, I think she needs to be free. Ethan’s words have wormed their way well and truly into my brain where they’ve set up residence.
I’ve fallen for her. I won’t lie to myself on that front. And because I’ve fallen for her, I’m letting her go because otherwise I’ll make both of us unhappy. I’m a controlling man. I know this about myself and it’s the last thing she needs. She’s been with a horrible man and before him, she dealt with a vile mother. Abi doesn’t know who she is, or what she likes. If I were different. Younger. Softer. Less rigid. Maybe we’d make it work. But I know who I am.
So, I’ll find the princess and save her, but then I’ll let her go.
Chapter Fourteen
Abi
Snot is running down Jay’s face, and he cries out again as one of Nick’s hired goons backhands him.
He isn’t crying for himself, though. He’s crying because he feels bad for leading Nick to me. I’ve told him over and over it isn’t his fault, but Jay is devastated. It’s written in his sad gaze.
“Stop it.” I push Nick. “You promised.”
He laughs at me. I’m desperate. I don’t know what to do to make him stop. He broke his promise. Color me surprised. “I’ll run away again if you don’t stop.”
“As if,” he sneers. “Now I’ve got you, do you think I’m going to let you go?”
Then it comes to me. There’s always a way out. Always. I lean in close to him, so close I have to whisper in his ear.
“I’ll kill myself. One day, one day soon, I’ll do it. You can’t suicide-proof a house. You take Jay away from me, I’ve got nothing else to live for. No Boo. No Jay. I’ll fucking do it, Nick. Don’t doubt me.”
He turns to me, and I swear I can see the cogs turning. See him trying to figure out if I mean it. The last thing he wants is that. I kill myself and the game’s over and in a sick way, I’ve won. Nick wants me as his. He wants to keep me as his little pet. Me ending it on my terms negates all his wishes.
“Leave him, we’re done here.” Nick snaps his fingers at the goons.
I run over to Jay and manage to whisper to him, “It’s not your fault,” before Nick pulls me away, his grip on my upper arm bruising.
He drags me out of Jay’s place to a dark sedan idling on the kerb. Throwing me into the back, he gets in behind me, and shoves me over. One of the goons gets in the other door and I’m trapped between the two men.
“Where’s Boo?” Nick asks casually.
I know the question is anything but.
“I gave him away to a woman I met on my travels,” I tell him.
“You can’t have loved him very much if you simply gave him away,” Nick says. “I mean, look at you. You cause me no end of trouble, but I’m never letting you go.”
Then he narrows his eyes at me. “By the way, leaving was your first mistake. Taking the USB stick your second.”
“How do you know I took it?” Does he have cameras in the damned study?
“I counted them, know exactly how much of everything is in my desk drawer, darling.”
I shake my head and mutter freak under my breath.
A sharp stinging slap to the side of my head has me catching my breath.
I stare out the window dully as the world slips by. Nick wants to break me. He already had in many ways, but he didn’t quite finish the job. He won’t make the same mistake twice. I know I’m in for hell. He’ll strip me of my humanity. Of everything that goes to making me an individual. I don’t know yet how he’ll do it, but it won’t be pretty.
Already, I’m too broken to function properly. I’m looking back at the decisions I made since I left and realizing they were screwed up. I fucked up repeatedly. Firstly, I fucked up when I had sex with a strange man simply because I wanted to feel lust, longing, and that burning fire. It wasn’t a risk worth taking, and I doubt it’s one a more together woman would have taken. Not in my position.
Then, once I found out that the man in question, Liam, was on my side, in a manner of speaking, I screwed up again by not trusting him.
Liam’s a deadly man. I know as much because I’ve seen his killer side in action. He’s not someone to be messed with. If my head had been screwed on straight, I’d have told Liam about Nick’s call. I bet he has friends in all sorts of places. Friends who could have probably found Jay and taken Nick into custody. But instead I panicked.
Despite everything we’d shared in the time I spent with him, when it came down to it, I panicked, and instead of trusting Liam to help me, I ran. And now I’m back to square one, only in a much worse position.
So, yeah, Nick has
broken me. But not as much as he’d like. Because I have a secret.
Nick hasn’t taken away my ability to love, and I know this because I’m falling in love with Liam. And I’m not falling for him because I’m a fucked-up mess, which was my first worry. And it’s not coming from some needy, horrible place where I crave love from someone, anyone. No, I’m falling for him because of who he is, not because of any deficit in me. If I get out of this alive, I’m going to find him and prove to him that I can trust again.
My inner bad-ass won’t let Nick break me this time, no matter how hard he tries, and when I get free of him, I’ll find Liam.
We pull up outside our home and my heart sinks. The building is so showy. So damn flash. It screams money and privilege, but to me it’s nothing more than a prison. It may as well be some dank, disgusting basement because once I step through those heavy, gilded doors, my freedom will be gone.
“Dare to make a scene and I will cut out your tongue. Don’t think I won’t do it.” Nick bites my ear after his lovely warning and grabs my arm.
“Hello, Mrs. Madison. Lovely to see you again. I hope you had a nice vacation.”
I mumble some incoherent nonsense in reply to the doorman and focus on the lifts ahead of us.
We ride up in silence. Nick, me, and the two goons. I can’t believe that Frank, our doorman, doesn’t see something wrong with this picture. Maybe he does. Perhaps he sees this sort of thing all the time and simply keeps his nose out. There are plenty of wealthy men who think their money and position gives them the power to do what the hell they like. They don’t see people as human beings, but simply as pawns. Players to be moved around the chessboard of life as they, the king, see fit. Nick views me as even less than a pawn. I’m a nothing. Sub-human, and he’s about to take weeks of anger out on me.
The doors ping and slide open with the smooth glide I’ve become accustomed to outside our penthouse lobby.
“You two wait outside. Don’t let anyone in. No one. Am I clear?” Nick orders.
The thick set men nod but don’t reply. I wonder if Nick is worried about more than just Liam coming for him. Maybe the people he’s been doing business with are after him now, too. I hope they are. Even though it puts my life in danger too, I hope some violent, hard faced mobster is coming after Nick with everything he has. I’d rather die than be kept here as my vile husband’s prisoner, and if Nick goes down with me, all the better.
He pushes me into the hallway and then grabs the back of my neck, propelling me forward into the kitchen. He’s hurting me, his grip so hard his nails break my skin.
On instinct I struggle to get out of his grasp. Blinding pain hits my side and I slump forward but the vicelike hold on my neck keeps me upright. I can’t breathe, and my ribs are screaming. Nick pulls his fist back and gives me another sharp jab, this one lower and to the side. It hurts so much I taste vomit in the back of my throat and fear for a moment I’m going to throw up.
We approach the kitchen and he pushes me onto the floor. Scrambling, trying to get a purchase on the shiny tiles, I crawl forward. There’s nowhere to go, but still I try to escape. We humans at the end of the day are merely animals, and when it comes right down to it, we act on instinct. It’s futile, but I can’t stop fighting.
With a grunt, Nick pulls me up off the floor and slams me over the marble kitchen counter. A harsh sigh escapes me as it hits me mid sternum, winding me and making my eyes water.
“You are going to pay for thinking for one moment you could fuck with me, you stupid little bitch. You’re a nothing. Don’t you understand? A no one. You’re mine, and that’s it.”
His hands are grabbing at my jeans. One hand holds me down with his surprisingly strong fingers still wrapped around my neck, the other is around my front, undoing my zip and pulling it down. Then he yanks the material down my legs so fast it burns.
I kick my ankles out trying to hit something on him, but he dodges me easily and laughs. “Guess what, sweet thing? Guess who got themselves some Viagra? You’re such a fucking mess, you’d turn any man off, but now I’ve got some chemical help. It means we can be truly together as man and wife. As we should. It’s all your fucking fault because you’re the only bitch I can’t get it up with. It’s not me, it’s you. You’re like poison, but now I’m going to fucking own you.”
My stomach lurches and I try to lift my head but can’t. I’m trapped again, but this time it won’t be me simply having to put up with him leaving his essence on my face. This time he means to rape me.
I manage to get my head up some, as he lets go of his grip to kick my legs apart. I stare at the smooth dark marble, and tilt my head to the side, and everything stills.
The knife block. It’s not within reach, not as things are. But if I can get my upper body farther onto the work surface somehow, I could reach a knife.
“You’re going to take it like a good little whore, and when I’m done with you, you’ll fucking thank me for it.”
The sound of his zipper focuses me, and I pull myself up, as if I’m struggling. He laughs but he’s finding it hard to control me and get his dick out. It gives me the leverage I need to get myself far enough onto the surface to reach my right arm out. My fingers brush the knife block, but I can’t take one as he’ll see and simply make me drop it. I need a distraction.
Mind whirring, I feel his fingers on my knickers, and I get an idea. A crazy idea, but it’s worth a try.
“Yes,” I breathe.
Nick stops. He stops dead and I swear you could hear a pin drop.
“I’ve always wanted it this way between us. Always wanted you.” I make myself believe it as I say it. I’m no actress. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and he used it against me, until the only way I could survive in this relationship was to make my face a studied blank. Now I’m putting so much emotion into my words I can taste it.
I pretend Nick is Liam. I close my eyes and think of the big, gruff man who has stolen my heart. Pushing my backside out, I circle my hips and give a moan. “Pull my panties down. See for yourself how wet I am.”
I’ve only got seconds because I’m as dry as the Gobi desert, but knowing Nick and his ego, he won’t be able to not look.
His fingers take my panties and pull them roughly to one side, then down my leg. I lunge forward, grab the knife and with a scream, plunge it behind me, into where I can feel his thigh pressing into me. I pull the knife back out and hold it in my hand. Tight.
A sharp cry of pain and he lets go of my neck. I turn and he’s staring at his leg. Then he lifts his face to mine and I know. I know.
If I don’t kill him, he’s going to kill me. The gloves are off and the hatred that runs deep between us is out in the open. No more games. No more pretending. Loathing so strong it makes the air heavy hangs between us.
“You little –”
He doesn’t get to say anything else because I plunge the knife into his gut. He staggers back, his arms going out and pinwheeling as if he’s about to fall off a cliff. A horrible gurgle flows from his mouth, and then he falls forward, grabbing me.
Blood smears my front and fear hits. I want his hands off me. Can’t stand him touching me. His blood is smearing me. Tainting me, the same way his semen used to do. Crying now, I push him away and he tries to grab the counter but misses and goes down.
There’s shouting in the distance and I think it must be his thugs coming for me. We made a lot of noise. Pounding footsteps spell my doom. I’m shaking so bad I can’t control myself, and I turn around in a blind panic. Where can I hide? There’s got to be somewhere.
There isn’t though. In this cold, sterile kitchen, I turn to face the door and await the men who are surely going to kill me.
Chapter Fifteen
Liam
The sight that greets me when I burst into Nick and Abi’s kitchen will be burned on my brain forever.
She’s covered in blood and Nick is laid on the floor making the most awful noise.
We’d got t
o Jay’s to find him beaten to a pulp and Nick and Abi gone. The doorman here is now working for us, and he called as soon as they arrived back at Nick’s place.
Reece looks at the mess in front of us and then to me. His face says it all. This is a fucked-up nightmare. Nick isn’t going to make it. I can tell immediately. Abi is white as chalk and she’s shivering so hard her teeth are biting her lip.
Her jeans are around her ankles as she stumbles away from Nick and her knickers are torn and around her mid-calves. There’s blood all over her front, and a knife still stuck in Nick’s gut.
“Shit. The fucking cameras.” Reece is moving before I can do anything. “I’ll take all the cameras down, before anyone sees the feed,” he says. “You sort this.”
“Hey, Liam.” Reece snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Fucking focus. You need to get her sorted. I’m calling my Russian friend. I think he can help with this.”
Abi is staring at me now, but it’s as if she doesn’t see me. All I can think is that she’s going to go to jail. This fucker deserved to die, but she faces prison time for this.
My protective instincts kick in and I rush over to her and pull her torn knickers up, thankful they stay in place, murmuring soothing nonsense to her. Soothing nonsense I don’t believe a word of. My stomach is roiling as if I’m on the wildest of seas. She’s going to face a trial. A horrible, humiliating trial. Even if she gets away with killing Nick – and surely a jury would acquit in light of the fact he clearly was about to rape her, and had abused her for years – she’ll still face all of this being brought to light.
It will kill her. Kill the last remaining light within her, as the court makes her relive every horrible thing done to her. I can’t let it happen. And in that instant, my mind is made up.
I will take the fall for her.
I’ll say I came in. Nick had attacked her. Was raping her and had the knife on her. I rushed him, he went at me with the knife, and I took it from him and used it in self-defence. So long as I coach her on what to say, it will fly. Particularly as I’ll have Reece backing me up, and we’re both bona-fide heroes.