He fixes me with a look that tells me I’m nuts.
“So which one? Army? Navy?”
He pulls back and regrips his ax. “Marines.”
Somehow that fits. He always was the toughest of the tough.
“When did you enlist?”
“The day after the funerals.”
Shame shoves any further words down my throat.
“What,” he mocks after a moment, “no more questions?”
“I guess not,” I mumble.
“Oh, so you’re feeling bad all of a sudden. Goody for you.”
“No.” There’s no suddenly about it.
I sense him looking at me, and his stare is like a thousand pine needles poking me in the face. I stare out at the forest full of skeletons that used to chatter in the breeze.
“Willard Barry was the last company commander I had,” he volunteers.
“So, the Marines. Is that what’s left of the US?”
“There is no US.” He takes a particularly hard swing, and I hear a crack. Then a series of them. The tree seems to sway, as though it’s not sure which way it wants to go. Talon stands back and waits, an aura of satisfaction about him.
It tilts.
“Move! Move, move, move!” Talon charges toward me, and his face is a mask of panic. The tree is falling.
Toward me.
I leap to my feet, but I’m just as panicked as he looks and I don’t know which way to run.
He plows into me with all the power of a professional football player, and we both hit the ground just as the tree crashes around us. I don’t know what God’s plans are for me, because we’re smack dab among the limbs and none of them have hit us.
Talon begins frantically checking me for wounds. His face is pale.
“I’m okay.” I sit up and give him what I hope is a reassuring look. “See? I’m fine.”
But he glares at me, and his eyes are kinda wild. He grabs me and rolls us both over so that he is on top of me. His lips find mine, and they’re hungry, rabid. And I don’t mind because the muscles in my private places contract, my heart feels full, and I find myself melting into him like he’s the only thing that stands between me and death.
He fists my hair and deepens the kiss. His tongue mates with mine, and he grinds his dick against me like we’re really going at it. And I want to. I need him to shove that thing so far inside me that I’ll never be rid of him.
He sits up and pulls me with him so I’m straddling his lap. He reaches under my shirt and caresses the skin of my back, then pulls my ass so that I’m smack up against his cock. The only thing between us is a few layers of material.
“God,” he says, his breathing coming in gasps. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
He kisses me again, and his tongue stabs into me, simulating what he’s doing with his hips. I’m drowning in lust. I ache as I’ve never ached, and I’m so wet that I wonder if he can feel it through the layers of clothing.
But this is wrong. Talon hates me. I shouldn’t feel so excited. I wrench myself away from his kiss and push my hands against his chest.
“Please, Talon. I can’t. This isn’t—”
A look of horror sweeps over his face, and it’s like someone dumped a bucket of manure over him.
I stumble to my feet. “It’s just the danger,” I say. “I know you don’t mean it.”
“Damn right I don’t,” he hisses. He adjusts his crotch and picks up his ax. “Not one word of this to anyone. Not one word. Got it?”
I nod, disturbed by the savagery in his voice, in his glare.
“Sit there.” He points at a boulder sticking up out of the ground twenty feet away. “And keep your mouth shut!”
Talon swings the ax again with so much gusto he could be hacking the walking dead.
Me, I just sit like I’m told. The last time someone touched me with any kind of affection, my mother was alive. The only person who’s touched me in three years is my dad, and that’s like being touched by a cop. A very high-ranking cop. It’s ironic that the only person who’s caressed me with genuine feeling is the person who hates me most.
Why did I enjoy it so much? Thinking about his hips rocking against mine brings an involuntary twinge deep inside me, and I’m ashamed. It wasn’t as though he attacked me or anything. I mean, with the trucker it was definitely rape. And that other guy, well, he would have raped me if he could have, and I definitely would have clawed his eyes out to get away. But with Talon…it felt good. Really good. Even the memory of his hands on my hips makes me want more.
Talon unfolds a tarp and tosses on the smaller of the branches he’s cut. When he’s got a full batch, he gathers up the corners.
“Start walking,” he barks. “No more than three steps in front of me.”
I hate him for the things he’s done—for the brutal way he told me about Misty, for the kidnapping, for the way he looks at me like he’d rather kiss a maggot. So it shouldn’t hurt my feelings, the way he’s being so mean.
But it does.
That night I sleep on the bed again. Talon sleeps on the floor. That’s all right. Asshole isn’t the only one who can give the cold shoulder. I turn my back to him, still in my uniform clothes. The message is clear: don’t touch me. Between the horny dreams and the ones where someone’s chopping me in half with an ax, I don’t get much sleep. I’m the first one up. I nudge Talon with my toe.
“Shit!” He takes a bleary-eyed swing at me. “What?”
“Bathroom.”
“Hold it.”
I shrug, keeping my face impassive. “Fine by me. You’re the one who has to put up with the smell.”
This gets him moving. I can almost hear his teeth grind as he stands up and stretches his neck. He squints down his nose at me. “What time is it?”
Really, Mr. I Haven’t Noticed the Apocalypse? “I don’t have a clock.”
He gives me a warning look, then roots around for his boots. He flicks back his blanket then, and I discover that he’s been using my shoes as a pillow. He tosses them onto the bed. “Hurry up.”
I cannot keep the glint from my eyes. “How was it? Sleeping all night, smelling my feet?”
His eyes narrow as I jam my feet into the boots and begin lacing them up.
Once I’ve done my business and so has he, we return to the trailer in what feels like an unbreakable silence. Seated on an old plastic crate cleaning a rifle is a guy I haven’t seen before. His hair is longer than you’d expect on a military guy. He doesn’t so much as look up when Talon and I enter.
Blondie, Baldo, and Dinner-Plate Hands are already in the kitchen. DPH is stirring a pot of oatmeal over a coal heater.
Talon pulls out a chair and stares at me until I sit. He takes the seat beside me. “When you guys are done,” he says to Blondie, “go on out and chop up that tree I felled.”
Blondie scowls. “Why don’t you do it?”
Talon eyes him steadily. “Because now that Evans is dead, I’m the highest-ranking person here.”
Baldo crosses his arms over his chest. “And Evans is dead because…” He raises his eyebrows at Talon.
Talon’s eyes sharpen. “Evans is dead because he attacked General Barry’s hostage. Who, I might add, he has plans for.”
This is news to me, and I dart him a questioning look. But he doesn’t acknowledge me. Is he lying to them, or are there really plans? And if there are, what are they? I fidget with my wooden spoon, but when I find Talon frowning at me, I eat the sticky oats. It almost makes old peanut butter taste good, but who’s complaining? I’m just glad they’re letting me wear clothes.
After the guys leave to split and bring in the wood, Talon pours a shallow measure of water from one bucket into another and begins scrubbing the dishes.
“How long have I been gone?” I ask. I should be able to count off the days in my head, but I can’t.
“One week,” Talon answers, never a guy for long conversation.
“How will Dad know how
to find me?”
He lifts a shoulder. “We left clues.”
His tone sort of tells me to stop asking questions. I ignore it. “Were you planning on taking on his whole army, just you guys?”
“It’s not just us.” He slaps another bowl into the bucket and attacks it like it’s filled with ants.
“Right.” I haven’t seen anyone but the five guys who kidnapped me. Six, if you count the rapist.
I can almost hear him roll his eyes. He pivots around and gives me a you’re really annoying, you know that? look. “He’ll have to go through the Route 42 corridor to get here. When he does, there will be a large party waiting for him. They’ll attack from both sides.”
I suck in a breath. So, it’s not just Talon’s revenge. There really is a bigger plan. But it’s been a week. It only took these guys a couple days to get me here. Looks to me like his careful planning isn’t working out too well. I decide to needle him.
I smirk. “So. Where’s Dad?”
He ignores me, and I take that as a sign that it’s safe to drive another jab. “Bet you thought he’d be here by now.”
Pursing his lips, Talon picks up another dirty bowl, but his eyes are troubled.
I sigh. “You know he’s not coming, right?”
He slams the bowl down, and an uneaten chunk of oatmeal flies out. “Will you just shut up?”
“If anyone comes at all, it will be a small group of his best men. They’ll get past your trap without your precious General Barry even knowing.” It’s true.
“I told you to shut up!” His eyes are furious now, and I’m a little scared to tell the truth. I can’t stop myself though.
“He’s not coming. He’s not sending troops either.” I’m not making this up, and even though I resent my father, my heart dies a little.
Talon throws his hands in the air. “Okay, fine. How do you figure?”
I lean forward and rest my chin in my hands. “Coming after me will only tell the others he can be manipulated. He will not negotiate for my release. He will not come for me. He won’t send anyone, either, unless it’s to kill me. And all of you, of course.”
He flicks a look at the door, and when he turns back, he’s sneering. “Don’t try to play politics, little girl.”
I snort. “I’ve spent my whole life mastering politics, Talon. It’s the one thing I’m good at.”
“I thought I told you to fucking shut up!”
But I don’t. I’ve kept my mouth shut for years, and now that I’m talking, I can’t shove the words back inside. “Why are you really here, Talon? Is it because General Barry ordered you?”
He doesn’t respond, just crosses his arms over his chest.
“No,” I answer for him. “You volunteered. This was your chance to finally get back at me. It’s only a coincidence that it’s helping General Barry get rid of my dad.”
His expression flickers, and the raw energy pouring off him screams of barely repressed emotion. He’s hanging on by his fingernails, and suddenly I feel sorry for him. For what Dad did, what my mother did, and especially for what I did. Ironic, huh? The victim feels sorry for her captor. A weight settles in my chest. I’ll bet he can’t even remember what happiness is. Me either. I’ll never be happy again, and I’ll never bring anyone happiness. Life stretches before me like an endless black ribbon, empty of color, empty of anything. It’s not even worth the effort.
“It’s okay.” I get up from the table and approach him even though every instinct tells me to run. “I know why you need to do this.”
“You’re out of your freakin—”
“Dad’s power is based entirely on people seeing him as always in control. He’s not going to let me out of this alive. His whole image will be ruined if he does.” The thought presses down on me like I’m already halfway in my grave. It’s no longer worth running from it, if it ever was. “Talon, I’m dead no matter what happens. It might as well be you. I owe you that much.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I haven’t had a moment of happiness”—I almost laugh as I roll my eyes—“of peace since that day four years ago. I should have died that day. You need your revenge. I’m telling you I understand.”
“No!” He grabs my arm, then pulls me to his chest. “You don’t get to understand. You have no idea what you owe me, what you deserve.”
He seizes my jaw in a cruel grip and shoves me away. I stumble and fall, and he’s right there with me.
Before I can draw a breath, he covers my lips with his, and it’s not sweet. It’s not romantic. It’s retribution, and I’m frightened. He forces my lips open, and again I feel that tug deep in my belly. He moves over me like a rabid bear, his hands ripping out the knot in my shirt.
“What are you doing?” I gasp when he comes up for air.
“I don’t hear you saying no,” he returns. “Do you want to scream? Do you want to bring the others? Could be fun.”
“No,” I whisper. Tears fill my eyes, knowing the others will be only too happy to take their turn.
He yanks my shirt up over my head and flings it away. He looms over me, breathing heavily now. So am I. The cold hardens my nipples, and his eyes go from gray to black as he views them. He cups my tits and kneads them softly. He pinches the tips, and I gasp, not because it hurts, but because of the sweet ecstasy it shoots directly to my core. My eyelids flutter shut. His lips find a nipple, and with a strong pull he suckles me. I can barely repress my groan at the feel of it. I’m on fire, and that place between my legs aches to be filled even though my brain still says no.
“Please,” I gasp, pushing against his head.
He takes my hands and pins them above my head. “You have this coming. God, baby, you have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
I stiffen. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been raped. You can touch my body all you want, but you can’t touch me. I’ll hardly notice when you’re done.”
He narrows his eyes, and to prove my point, I lay back, relax my body, and let my expression go blank. “What are you waiting for?” I ask. “Do what you need to do.”
His face goes red, and his eyes are like twin black holes. I cannot resist their pull. “Not this time,” he snarls. He yanks off my belt and uses it to tie my hands to the center leg of the kitchen table, which is bolted to the floor. Looking into his eyes is like looking at death, and I shiver. He’s already got my zipper down, and he’s pulling my pants over my hips.
I’m shaking. One more tug and my pants are off. I can’t maintain my plastic face, even though I try to with every ounce of strength I have left.
“Please.” My voice is thick with tears. “You’re better than this.”
“Have you forgotten?” he sneers. “I’m trash, and so are you.”
“This won’t prove anything,” I say desperately. “Think, Talon. Think how you’ll feel when it’s over.”
He reaches between my legs, and to my utter shame he finds the folds of my crotch have thickened in preparation of what’s to come. And I’m wet. So, so wet. He begins to rub his moistened fingers on my clit in slow, circular movements, and I go weak. I spread my legs for him, hating myself for it.
“Not so strong after all,” he says with a mocking smile.
I can’t do anything but moan softly as he rains kisses down my chest and torso. He sticks two fingers up my slit, making my hips rock up to meet him.
When his tongue touches my clit, I let out a gut-wrenching cry. I almost come up off the floor, but his other hand presses down on my belly. I can’t… His tongue licks me, his lips suck me, and those fingers inside me rub on something that feels oh so good. So. Fucking. Good.
I am not Ilsa Balenchuk. I am need, and all I want is Talon; all I feel is rabid passion. My hips undulate in his grasp, and I’m moaning and sighing so loud I’m sure the men outside can hear.
But I can’t stop.
“Please,” I pant. “Please!”
He stops, and my whole body bows in need.
&nbs
p; He stares at me, and it hits me that he’s fully clothed. I’m naked and completely helpless against him. This humiliates me, excites me, and all I can think is how much I want his dick inside me.
“What do you want, Ilsa?”
“I want…” I lick my lips, and heat rushes to my face. “I want…”
He presses his tongue to me again in a series of feather light licks. Those fingers fuck my cunt like I want his cock to do, but it’s not enough. Not enough.
“Who’s in charge, Ilsa?”
“Please help me,” I beg.
He leans in close and kisses me, and I can taste myself on his lips. The intimacy is almost too much to bear.
“Who owns you now?” he rasps.
I lock my jaw and turn my face away. I squeeze my legs together, but he wrenches my thighs apart and laps at my clit until yet again I’m on the brink of coming. Again, he stops. He blows cold air on me, and I gasp.
“Who is your master?” he asks softly, and he sticks those blessed fingers once again inside me.
“You.” I close my eyes and spread my legs wider. “You are.”
He kisses and sucks at me, tongues me fast, and pumps his fingers until finally I come in a clench that starts in my cunt and pulsates deep inside my womb. I sob, my back arches, and my thighs clamp around his head, clutching him to me, my hips bucking as I ride out the final pulsating wave.
I fall back against the floor, completely empty, as Talon leans forward and unties my hands. “Now get dressed before the men see you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I’m sitting at the table playing solitaire. The queen of hearts is missing, but it’s not like there are a whole lot of choices in entertainment. Talon is back in the bedroom doing whatever it is he needs to do when the others return. The silent long-haired soldier appears to be rewiring a piece of equipment when Baldo plunks down across from me, and I swear he’s sniffing me. What Talon did to me—can he smell it?
He draws in a long breath, and a smile slides into place. “Wanna play with me?”
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