Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

Home > Romance > Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel > Page 50
Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 50

by Michelle Love


  Grady, fresh from the shower, appeared and smiled at them both. “Hey, kiddo.” He kissed her cheek and then clapped his brother on the back. “Hey, dude. Get any sleep?”

  The answer was obvious. Grady shot a look at Flori, then sat down next to his brother. “Dude, there’s no way that tape wasn’t … manufactured. Quilla would never cheat on you; that’s the one certain thing in all of this. If she looked like she was enjoying it, she was probably forced to. We all know the disgusting things Gregor threatened to do to her.”

  Jakob, hollow-eyed, looked at him. “I should know this; I should be certain. And that’s what I can’t face, that I don’t trust Quilla enough to believe that. And she’s done nothing wrong, nothing. It is my fault that she’s even in this situation.”

  Grady sighed. “Padme?”

  Jakob nodded. “It all comes down to that. Gregor was always a player, always, I never imagined that he had been so much in love with her that her cheating with me would kick off some deep psychosis in him.” He hesitated. “I never told you this but … Padme was murdered. Stabbed to death in London.”

  Flori couldn’t help the gasp of distress and Jakob looked at her in sympathy. “I apologize, Flori. You are as much as victim in this as Quilla or Kit or any of us.”

  “Not a victim,” she said quietly, “a survivor.”

  Jakob’s smile was kind. “Of course. I’ll drink to that.” He raised his coffee cup. “Look, both of you, thanks for last night but I’ll get out of your hair. I need to regroup, talk to Carter, and see where we go from here.”

  When they were alone, Grady sighed and took Flori in his arms. “Have I told you both how proud I am of you and how much I love you?”

  She leaned against him. “I know you are. God, Grady, is it wrong that while everyone is so wrecked, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have you?”

  “Not at all. Right back at you.”

  She tilted her head up for a kiss. “Take me to bed, Grady Mallory. I need you.”

  Grady smiled, his eyes soft. “Your wish is my command, beautiful.”

  He still smelled of his shower gel, and she breathed him in as they slowly stripped off and tumbled onto the bed, their arms and legs curving around the other, lips against lips.

  Flori gazed up at him, and he smiled. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  She grinned, then moaned as he bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing the nub until it grew hard and ultra-sensitive. Flori reached down to cup his cock, feeling it thicken and grow in her hand, brushing her thumb lightly over the sensitive tip, making his hips jerk, his low groan making her wet.

  “I want you inside me,” she whispered, but Grady, grinning, shook his head. “Not yet ...”

  She groaned, impatient, as he sucked her other nipple, the nerve endings in her breasts screaming for him. His tongue drifted down to her belly, circling her navel. He kissed each one of the scars there tenderly, before making his way down and burying his face in her sex. As his teeth grazed her clit, Flori gasped, her fingers knotting in his hair. He brought her to a screaming orgasm with his tongue, then before she could catch her breath, his cock, heavy and thick, plunged into her, and Grady, grinning, thrust hard, knowing he had complete domination over her body.

  Afterward, she pleaded with him to stay in bed with her instead of going to an auction. “I wouldn’t ask if there were any significant pieces at it,” she said, “but I can’t bear the thought of not spending the day with you.”

  “You could always come with me,” he said, but she could tell his heart wasn’t it in. He smiled and kissed her. “So, vegging out day?”

  “Yup. Sexy times and vegging out. Is it wrong that I want to do this while Quilla and Hayley are missing?”

  “Not at all. What are we supposed to do that we aren’t already doing? We have to keep things as normal as possible—not that sex with you could ever be described as normal.”

  They were silent for a while. “Be honest,” Flori said finally, turning onto her side to look at him. “Do you think they’re dead already?”

  Grady sighed. “Or they wish they were. God.”

  Flori felt tears threatening and instead leaned over and kissed him. “I refuse to believe they’re dead. Positive vibes and all of that.”

  He cupped her face with his big hand. “Good idea.”

  And they began again where they’d left off.

  Quilla wasn’t sleeping. Hayley knew, even though her friend closed her eyes and lay curled next to her, that she lay awake all night, every night. Every time Gregor brought her back to their prison room, Hayley could see the pain in Quilla’s eyes, and it worried her. Something in her friend was dying. Hope. Faith. Self-respect. She would try to hold her, help her grieve for the part of her that was lost, but Quilla would just give her a half smile and turn away. It broke Hayley’s heart.

  In the evenings, Gregor would keep Quilla longer and longer, force her to do God knows what—the way he looked at her friend terrified her. Obsession. Psychopathic. Dangerous. Lethal. Gregor Fisk was a man on a knife edge—when he was with Quilla, Hayley would sit alone wondering if this would be the night that he would snap and kill her friend.

  Seven days. Seven days without seeing Skandar, touching him, loving him. Seven days where she didn’t know if the next moment would be her last. Hayley was a resilient girl, but this was pure torture, and her nerves were shredded. Last night, Quilla had returned with blood on her dress. She had gone into the shower, and Hayley followed her. There were scratches and cuts on her body. She saw Hayley’s scared face and tried to smile. “Don’t worry; it’s all superficial.”

  “Did he have a knife?” Hayley’s voice quivered as Quilla nodded, not meeting her eye. Hayley hated to acknowledge the thought that kept buzzing around her brain; Quilla will not survive this. All it took was for Gregor to lose his temper. Jesus …

  Now, in the pale light of the morning, Hayley lay on her back, staring at the cracking paint on the walls, the blankness of the ceiling. They had to figure something out, even if it cost their lives. They had to take control. She rolled onto her side. Quilla was lying next to her, her eyes closed.

  “Quills … you awake?”

  Quilla opened her eyes and smiled at her. “Hey, buddy.” Just that simple, affectionate greeting made Hayley feel better.

  “We need to come up with a plan.”

  “I agree. But I’ve been thinking for days, and I can’t think of anything that Gregor won’t kill us for even trying. Hayley, I think we need to accept; both of us won’t make it out of here.”

  Hayley gave a sob. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “We have to be realistic.”

  “You’ve given up.”

  Quilla didn’t answer, and Hayley wrapped her arm around her waist. “Don’t do that; I can’t bear it. I know exactly what you mean, and I won’t permit it. You are not sacrificing yourself for me. No way, nuh-uh.”

  She leaned her forehead against Quilla’s. “I love you, Quilla; you are my sister as much as Nan is my sister. We may not share DNA, but you are my blood, my family.”

  Quilla’s already exhausted eyes filled with tears. “I won’t let him kill you.”

  “Do you honestly think you’re not already doing more than humanly possible to prevent that? I’d have a bullet in my head if it weren't for you.” Hayley’s whisper was urgent, but she felt sick. Too many images of Quilla, dead, were crowding her mind. No. No.

  Quilla kissed her cheek. “I love you too, rug rat.”

  Hayley smiled. “That’s better.” But she didn’t know how much worse it could get.

  But, of course, it did.

  Ali Bell was concentrating so hard on her computer screen that Carter James grinned. “You watching Magic Mike again?”

  He expected her to give him the finger, but instead, her face deadly serious, she beckoned him over. “Take a look at this.”

  He came around to sit beside her. “The tapes from the retail stores?
We’ve seen these.”

  “No, look, these are from a couple of days ago. This dude,” she tapped the screen. “We’ve tracked him using the same retail outlet for a couple of months, buying stuff in bulk, from one of the wholesale stores near Puyallup.”

  “So?”

  “So, he’s been buying pretty standard stuff for two months but then two days ago, he buys women’s underwear in two different sizes and tampons. The first time he’s bought anything like that. Now, forget that this dude doesn’t look like the most enlightened guy in the world; he’s been doing the grocery run for two months and has never bought any feminine products before. Underwear, two different sizes, and guess what, they match Quilla Mallory and Hayley Applebee’s sizes.”

  Carter was interested now. “Anything else? How does he pay?”

  Ali looked slightly gleeful. “Cash.”

  “Shoot, no way to trace a card.”

  She was still smiling. “Cash, Carter. Fifties. Every single time.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yep.”

  “Christ, Ali, that’s the best lead yet. Right, let’s get people out there now.”

  “Already done. We’re sweeping the area.”

  Carter let out a long breath. “Alianja Bell, I think I love you.”

  Ali grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know. Look, I think we should tell Jakob Mallory to come, see if he can recognize this guy now these are clearer photos.”

  Carter wasn’t convinced. “Ali … I don’t want to give Jakob Mallory false hope. If it doesn’t pan and out and this dude is on the level, I think it’ll break Mallory. He’s on the edge.”

  Ali looked sympathetic. “Poor guy.” She was quiet for a while. “You know what’s weird? I hope Quilla Mallory was sleeping with Gregor Mallory and enjoying it. Because the alternative is so fucked up, I can’t deal with it.”

  “Quite. But we’re not married to her.”

  Ali stood. “Look, let’s get out there and see what we can find.”

  Jakob went back to his hotel after thanking Grady and Flori, but he couldn’t stay there for long. He packed his stuff and checked out and drove to his dad’s place. Ran Mallory was on the phone when Jakob walked into his study, and Ran waved at him to sit down. Whoever Ran was talking to must be a friend, if Ran’s warm tone and smile told him anything. Jakob waited until his father finished the call. His father greeted him.

  “That was Marley; I was just updating her on what the police told us yesterday.”

  Jakob’s eyebrows went up. “You’re calling each other?”

  “For a couple of months now.” Was he imagining it, or did his dad flush? Wow. Jakob grinned for the first time in days.

  “Go for it, Dad. How’s she doing?”

  Ran shook his head. “Utterly devastated. She’s considering taking a sabbatical from work, but she says all she’ll do all day is sit by the phone and watch the endless news coverage and drive herself crazy. If any of that actually had any positive effect, I wouldn’t mind, but …” he sighed. “I said I’d go over this afternoon, talk things out.”

  Jakob chuckled. “Is that what the kids call it now?”

  “Jakob Mallory, I am your father.” But Ran was grinning bashfully.

  “Darth Vader did that much better. Anyway, I came over to tell you; I’m going to London. I want to talk to Padme’s parents, see if they can give me any insight to Gregor’s behavior with her before she left him, whether she was scared of him.”

  “Haven’t the British police already done that?”

  “I need to hear it for myself; they might be more inclined to talk to one of her … friends.”

  Ran got up and hugged his son. “If it helps you. Why don’t you see Bo while you’re there?”

  “Good idea. Are you still hoping she’ll come for Christmas?”

  Ran nodded then laughed softly. “Here we are talking about Christmas...”

  Jakob nodded. “Yeah. I have to keep believing we’ll get them back soon.”

  Ran’s eyes were kind. “I understand. Be careful in London; those parents have already been through enough.”

  The door opened, and Paul, carrying a lunch tray, came in. Quilla and Hayley, sitting against the far wall as instructed, ignored him. But when he closed the door and locked it—from inside—they shared an alarmed glance. Paul set the tray down and waited for them to look at him. Finally, Hayley made a disgusted noise.

  “What do you want? Thanks for the shit food, Paulyboy. Now run along to Daddy and kiss his ass.”

  Quilla shot Hayley a look; don’t antagonize him. Paul grinned nastily.

  “Better watch how you talk to me, Blondie. One word from me and your whore friend gets a knife in her gut.”

  Quilla was a second too late grabbing Hayley’s hand. The young woman scrambled to her feet and got in Paul’s face. “You fucking whiny cocksucker,” she spat at him. “Do you think all this makes you a man? Is this what you want from life? Keeping women prisoner and jerking off thinking about them because Daddy won’t let you touch them?”

  He cuffed her viciously, sending her flying to the ground. Quilla was up then, throwing herself at the huge man, all her rage, her hurt, coming out. Paul just laughed and threw her against the wall. Quilla’s head crashed against the window, and she was knocked senseless, slumping to the ground. Hayley screamed.

  “You’ve killed her, you motherfucker!”

  Paul grabbed her, pulling a blade from his pocket. “It’s about time you learned some manners, you little slut.” He pushed her against the wall and yanked her jeans down, using the knife to cut her underwear away. Hayley was struggling, screaming. Quilla, coming around, was immediately on her feet, unsteady and dazed, but she again ran at Paul, using everything she had to get him away from Hayley.

  “Get off me you bitch!” She was on his back, digging her fingers into his eyes, trying to gouge them out. Paul roared and backed up, slamming Quilla against the wall but she clung on until finally, he managed to shake her off, dropping her to the floor and crouching over her. Knife drawn.

  “No!” Hayley went to help her friend but Paul elbowed her viciously in the stomach, and she crumpled. Paul, one hand pinning Quilla down, pushed up her T-shirt and raised the knife. “Let’s add some more to that nice little stab wound, shall we?”

  Quilla closed her eyes and Hayley, sobbing, begged Paul not to kill her friend. Then the door was kicked in and in a daze, Quilla opened her eyes to see Gregor, his face one of rage, a gun in his hand. Paul ignored him and raised the knife … and, roaring, Gregor shot him through the head. Paul dropped instantly, and Quilla kicked his body off of hers and skittered away from it.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Gregor looked wildly around, then pointed the gun at Hayley, who froze. “You. You fucking taunted him, didn’t you? Couldn’t keep your mouth shut? They should have killed you in that car.” He clicked off the safety and Hayley squeezed her eyes shut. Scrambling to her feet, Quilla darted in front of her friend.

  “Please,” Quilla said, “Please don’t hurt her. It was my fault, not hers. Please … baby.”

  Gregor squinted, his eyes locked on hers. “Give me a good reason, Quilla.”

  Hayley whimpered, but Quilla kept her gaze steady. “I’ll make you a deal. Her for me. Let her go and I’ll go with you. Anywhere. I’ll be yours entirely. I’ll divorce Jakob and marry you, if that’s what you want. And if I make you unhappy, well, you can obviously kill me whenever you want; I won’t fight it. Please, Gregor. Let her go.”

  Gregor stared at her, and Hayley could see the turmoil in him. God, he’s really thinking about this. But she couldn’t do it, let Quilla throw her life away on this monster. Not for me.

  “Quilla, no,” she whispered, but Quilla held her hand up. Quiet. Gregor’s mouth hitched up in a smirk and aimed the gun at her belly.

  “And what if I don’t agree? What if I decide you’re not worth it? What I decide I want to put a bullet into you instead?”

  Qu
illa edged forward so that the muzzle of the gun pressed into her. “Then shoot me right now, Gregor. Do it. Because while Hayley is here, while she’s not safe, I’ll never let you touch me again. Choose, right now.”

  Hayley felt a chill pass through her. Seconds passed, and it felt like a lifetime. Gregor, his eyes never leaving Quilla’s face, clicked the safety off the gun, and Hayley stopped breathing. Her gaze was riveted to his finger on the trigger.

  Then he lowered the gun. “Deal.” Both Hayley and Quilla breathed out and, trembling, Quilla reached around her to take Hayley’s hand.

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  Gregor considered for a long moment, his eyes flicking between the two girls. “Hayley’s phone. She’ll video the whole drop, right up until she’s picked up by police. We’ll watch a live feed. How does that sound?”

  Quilla nodded. “Good. Thank you.” She squeezed Hayley’s hand.

  “Thank you,” Hayley stammered. Gregor gave her a stiff nod, then gazed at Quilla.

  “You’re mine now.”

  Quilla nodded. “I’m yours.” She glanced at Hayley. “Gregor, would you give Hayley and me a little time alone to say goodbye? Please?”

  Gregor looked down at Paul’s body. “Sure. Five minutes. Then Dick will take Hayley to the nearest town, and we’ll leave here, Quilla. We’ll go away and begin our life together.”

  After he had left, closing the door behind him, Quilla dragged Hayley into the bathroom and locked the door. She went to the toilet and bent down, grabbing the loose tile. She smashed it and picked up the two biggest, most lethal looking shards. She handed one piece to Hayley, tugging her into an embrace, her lips close to Hayley’s ear. “Use it only if you need to, if anything goes wrong. Tell Jakob I love him, and I’m sorry, but this is the only way.”

  Hayley’s eyes were huge, brimming with tears. “What are you going to do?”

  “Try to kill Gregor. But it might take me a little while to get him comfortable enough to relax around me. Wherever he takes me, it’ll be remote, but he can’t take me out of the country; Jakob will have the airports and borders on alert. He’ll need sex soon so that it won’t be too far from here, probably still in the state. Just tell Jakob and the police everything and anything. I’ll try to get away, but Hayley, whatever happens, I love you so much, all of you. I would not have swapped anything for this last year with the Mallorys, with you and Nan, and Flori and Asia. Anything.”

 

‹ Prev