by MJ Morrigan
“Hmm,” Tara hums, “Me too,” she lets her free hand trail down to Jenkins’s, fingers trailing over his own and she can sense him getting excited by the heavy breathing by her ear. She grabs his hand, pushing it further down, guiding it under her dress. Her fingers brush over a strap of leather on her thigh and she flicks her fingers quickly.
Jenkins feels the same strap of leather and gives her a look of confusion. He hesitates for a moment but that’s all it takes. Tara – who’d pulled the knife out from its sheath on her thigh – has it pressed firmly against his genitals.
“Order your men to lower their guns,” she tells him in a low voice and Jenkins does so in a trembling voice.
As soon as they do, Ren takes advantage of the confusion and he’s already taken three men down before they realize it.
“Tara!” Ren calls out.
She spurs to action by the sound of his voice. With a flick of her wrist, she drives the knife deeply into Jenkins’s thigh and pushes him away from her. She stumbles back, turning sharply and driving her heels into the ground and launching herself at Ren. He catches her arm, and tows her back to the car. Someone tries to shoot them but Ren is fast – darting around the building and pulling Tara along swiftly.
Once they’re in the car, Ren takes off before the door is even properly closed. Tara is jostled around the passenger seat, struggling to get her seatbelt secured. They barely make it out of the warehouse building and they’re almost run off of the road when Jenkins’ men chase after them. It’s only due to Ren’s ridiculous driving that they make it to the club in one piece.
It’s nearing midnight and the club is packed with bodies. Ren pushes his way through the crowds and Tara follows, heart racing and sweat making her dress cling to her skin. She feels dirty where Jenkins had touched her and Tara wants nothing more than to go home and scrub her skin raw until the feeling goes away but she knows that they have to warn June first.
They find him on the second floor in one of the VIP booths accompanied by Michela and Jasper. He’s significantly drunk, given the bottles and glasses that sit atop the table. June takes one look at them and his eyes darken.
“It was Jenkins,” Ren tells him, “We were ambushed. Made it out alive but there might be a target on your head.”
June doesn’t even look at Ren. His eyes are trained on Tara, “Are you alright?” he asks in a mildly slurred voice.
Tara nods, “We’re fine but you might not be. I’m not sure who he’s with, but Jenkins isn’t working alone.”
June nods and finally he meets Ren’s eyes, “You know what to do.”
Ren nods before making his way out the room. Tara’s not sure what exactly she’s supposed to be doing and for a moment she simply just stands there, moving from foot to foot. Michela notices and ushers her over, “Come sit, have a drink.”
June nods in agreement, “You’re probably safer here.”
Tara frowns at his behaviour but chooses not to comment on it. She makes her way over to the other side of the booth – next to Jasper – when June stands and gestures for her to take a seat next to Michela. Tara slowly slides in, shoulders tensing when June slides in immediately after her, almost close enough that their arms brush.
Tara doesn’t drink anything heavier than a cup of coffee. She watches as June gets significantly drunker by the hour. It’s almost two in the morning and Tara feels her eyes droop with exhaustion. She leans back, letting her head rest against the wall.
June notices her movements and with a flick of a wrist, he has her head nestled into the crook of his neck. Tara stiffens, exhaustion forgotten, “It’s okay,” he turns and whispers into her hair, “You can rest for a while, I’m here.”
She’s thoroughly confused by his words but his hand winds around her shoulder and there are fingers stroking through her hair, and Tara decides that she’ll deal with the repercussions later. She closes her eyes and leans into his warmth.
Tara’s almost drifted off when June starts speaking to her in a soft voice, “You were a really cute kid,” he says into her hair and she feels his lips tug into a smile, “Your sister showed me pictures,” he chuckles at that, “She told me about how excited you were when you first found out about the soul bond and how you always hoped to one day find your Kindred,” his voice grows thicker with emotion and suddenly June pushes in close, “I’m sorry, for everything.”
Tara pulls back to look at him, tears collecting in the corner of her eyes. June’s expression is relaxed but his eyes droop with a muted sadness. His eyes flit down to her lips for a moment before drifting back up to her eyes. Tara knows she should pull away and stop whatever it is that’s happening between them currently – because he’s drunk and because she knows she’ll regret the little sliver of hope that bubbles in her chest – but she can’t bring herself to. She watches him as he draws closer and just before their lips meet, Tara closes her eyes.
June’s lips are soft and plush against her own. At first he doesn’t move them, simply lets his lips press against hers for a moment. Then, his other hand winds around her waist and suddenly he’s moving against her lips desperately.
A hot, heavy hand rests on her thighs and Tara’s eyes shoot open in panic. She pushes against his chest, a plea for June to stop falling from her lips but he continues, lips drifting to her neck while the hand on her thighs grips the fat there with a bruising strength.
She struggles and pushes against him until he finally breaks away from her, eyes drawn together in irritation. He opens his mouth to speak but Tara’s hand moves quicker and before she knows it, her palm slams across his cheek so hard that her hand stings with the effort.
The table is silent. Tara stares at June with wide and frightened eyes. His expression darkens as he lifts his hand and Tara flinches, thinking he’s going to retaliate. Whatever June’s intention, he doesn’t get to see it through.
Michela’s pulled Tara next to her with a small dagger poised in front of them – a clear warning. Lucas – who’d been sitting behind the booth – immediately gets up, gun directed at Michela’s head.
“I won’t let you hurt her,” Michela tells June, completely ignoring Lucas.
Tara feels a hand tug her backwards and when she looks back, Jasper and Michela are sliding out the other end of the booth, the older woman insistently tugging at her hand. Tara goes willingly but not before she looks at June’s now reddened cheek guiltily.
He watches them leave with a dark expression but doesn’t say a word. Tara stops in front of Lucas, muttering in his ear, “Please keep an eye on him.”
Lucas nods in affirmation and Tara follows Michela out the club with little resistance. The older woman has her driver take Tara home. Once in the car, she turns to Tara with a frown, “You’re in love with him. Why?”
Tara can only manage a half-hearted shrug.
“He’s a monster,” the other woman continues, “He’s treated you horribly and yet you still love him.”
“You don’t have to lecture me on my poor taste,” Tara tells her, “I know that I’m being an idiot.”
The car is silent for a moment before Michela chances a quiet, “I think he loves you too, in his own way.”
Tara doesn’t reply immediately, simply turns to stare out the window, “That’s not reassuring.”
Michela huffs out a mocking laugh, “It wasn’t meant to be. June’s love is almost as toxic as his hatred.”
Tara quietly thanks Michela and her driver before she gets out of the car and hurries to her apartment. She manages to make it to the hallway before she breaks down crying, burying her face in her hands as she sinks to the floor.
She doesn’t hear the set of footsteps rapidly moving towards her until it’s too late.
CHAPTER TEN
She wakes up in a dark room, the walls high and painted a dirty grey. There are suspicious stains everywhere and a pungent odor that makes her gag. Her hands are tied behind her, her legs shackled to a wall. She tries to scream but her voice is
scratchy with disuse and barely a sound escapes her.
It’s enough to alert someone outside and the steel door opens to reveal a familiar face. She remembers him as Mr. Lee, another associate of June’s.
“You’re finally awake, princess,” he leers down at her.
“What do you want?” she rasps out in a strangled tone, fear evident in her eyes.
“I want to teach your boyfriend a lesson,” he replies, “I’m not someone he can toy around with,” he spits out, “When he comes rushing in to save you, he’ll see the kind of power I have.”
Her heart drops at his words, blood running cold at the realization, “You’re using me as bait?”
Lee mistakes her fear, letting out a harsh bark of laughter, “We won’t hurt him; too much. Maybe take out an eyeball or two,” he snickers.
“You obviously don’t know him if you think he’s going to compromise his position for me,” she spits out bitterly.
“We’ll see,” Lee tells her with a raised brow.
Tara heaves a defeated sigh, hot tears streaming down her face. She only hopes someone will notice that she’s missing long enough to do something about it.
Tara wakes to the door of her cell being thrown open, an angry looking Jenkins hobbling through it.
She skids back across the floor until her back hits the wall, Jenkins chuckling all the while.
“Playing coy, are we?” he asks with a raised brow, “You didn’t seem to have a problem opening your legs for me before,” he snarls, kneeling in front of her. He grabs her chin harshly, fingers digging into her cheeks, “You hurt my feelings when you ran away from me,” here he feigns a pout, “But I’m willing to still give you what you want,” he leers at her.
A hand dips between her legs and Tara jolts, a knee springing up and hitting his jaw. Jenkins stumbles back with a pained hiss, cradling the spot. It takes a moment, but he shakes his head and chuckles under his breath, “You’ve always been rather feisty,” he smirks.
For a moment, Tara fears that he’s going to try something else but he stands and strolls out the door without another word. She hears a lock click into place and for a moment everything is silent, calm.
Tara turns her head and vomits the bile that’s risen in her throat, violent tears streaming down her face.
They don’t let her leave the room. She has no bed and a bucket for a toilet. No one comes to clean her up and the room has no windows, so by the third day, it stinks of piss and stale vomit.
She can’t even tell how much time passes. They don’t feed her often, a guard coming in to give her stale bread and some old ham maybe once every two days.
She thinks she may have been in here for two weeks now. They’ve taken away everything; her phone, her watch, anything sharp she can use as a weapon. Tara wastes away, praying for someone to find her. Her only saving grace is that Jenkins hasn’t tried to touch her again; disgusted by the state she’s in.
One day he comes in with a tripod and a phone, “We’re going to send your boyfriend a surprise,” he tells her.
She blinks at the sudden light his entrance brings, eyes burning as they adjust.
“What are you talking about?” Tara asks in a raspy voice. She can barely lift her head to look at him.
“You’re going to plead for him to come save you,” he tells her in a dark tone, “And when he does, I’ll kill him.”
“I won’t,” she hisses angrily and the effort has her throat stinging.
“Of course you will,” he shrug, “With a little incentive.”
He sets up the tripod so that it’s facing Tara and begins to record her. She doesn’t register anything for a moment but then he Jenkins speaks, “Will he even want you, after seeing you like this?”
That causes a lump to rise in her throat and she curls into herself, hiding her face in her knees as she cries. She knows how she must look, dirty and starved with vomit in her hair. She cries even harder when Jenkins begins to laugh.
He wanders over to her and grips her hair, pulling her head up harshly so that she’s looking at the camera, “Say hi, darling,” he sneers into her ear. When she doesn’t comply, he slaps her across the face. He does it again, and then again, laughing maniacally as he does.
Eventually, he gets bored of tossing her around and lets her body drop to the floor as he strides over to the tripod.
“If you want to save your precious little damsel, you’d better come quickly,” he turns to look at Tara, “I don’t think she’ll last very long. I’m giving you a day. If you don’t show up, my men will have her,” he hums thoughtfully, “And then maybe my dogs. Either way, there won’t be much of her left.”
He strolls to the other side of the camera and turns the recording off.
“Let’s hope your boyfriend still wants you,” he tells her in a cheery voice, “Then I’ll have the pleasure of killing you both.”
When June first finds out that Tara’s gone missing, he doesn’t believe it. Ren tells him once he’s gotten off the phone with Lucas one Thursday night.
“She’s probably just getting away from everything,” he tells Ren but the horrible sinking feeling in his chest doesn’t leave.
“Yeah, because that sounds like her,” ReN scoffs, “Just up and disappearing when she knows it’s dangerous,” his tone is angry.
When she’s missing for more than two days, they suspect a kidnapping. June returns home, distraught and worried. He steps into the manor in a daze, but when his eyes spot Lucas, anger takes him.
He strides up to the younger man and grabs his collar harshly, “How could you let this happen?” he yells, voice bellowing around the otherwise silent lounge.
Lucas doesn’t even fight back, his eyes tired and his face gaunt. It takes two other men to pull June away from him.
“We don’t have time for this,” Ren snarls, “We can’t be fighting amongst each other while she’s still missing. You need to get your shit together,” he hisses in June’s direction.
They spend hours poring over footage from her apartment. It’s no use. Everything’s been tampered with, all evidence erased.
June confronts Michela about Tara’s disappearance and it almost ends in his death when he pulls out a gun on her.
“You were the last person she was with!” he shrieks in anger, entire body trembling.
Michela stares at him, face void of any emotion, “I took her home, June. I’ve told you this before. I watched her walk into the building.”
“And the footage from her building has very conveniently been erased,” June sneers.
“I wouldn’t hurt her,” Michela stresses and her eyes soften, “You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”
At her words, something in June breaks. He no longer has strength in his body, his arms and legs giving out. He falls to his knees with a resounding thud, head hung low as his bottom lip trembles. There are tears streaming down his face.
Michela rushes over to him and gathers him in her arms, holding him tightly as he cries into her shoulders, “We’ll find her,” she assures him, “And God help whoever took her,” her voice dips low, a dangerous edge to it as she narrows her eyes in determination.
June knows Jenkins’s involved somehow but no one will listen to him without proof.
“We can’t just storm in, guns blazing,” Jasper tells him during a meeting one night, “Even if he does have her, we could put her in danger if we act without a plan.”
“We can’t do nothing!” Lucas hisses, “If he has her, we should at least do something!”
“Going in without a plan is suicide,” June snaps, “We’d be ensuring both her death and ours.”
Lucas glares at him with an expression of such intense hatred that Ren almost fears the man will snap and attack his boss, “Maybe you just don’t want to find her,” Lucas hisses out venomously and the words hit their Eric when June’s eyes narrow angrily, “She’s never been anything but a plaything to you. So what if they have her, right?” he continues, “If sh
e dies, so help me June, you’re next,” he turns and barges out the door, the wood flinging against the wall with a loud bang.
A few hours later, Lucas knocks on June’s study door hesitantly. When he’s ordered to enter, he spots the other man with his head in his hands and an empty whiskey glass in front of him.
June looks up and Lucas eyes the dark circles around his eyes with worry, “Jasper has a lead on who might have taken her. We think it’s one of the smaller rival gangs who want to use her as a ransom.”