by Anna Zaires
“Thank you.” I smile as brightly as I can and jab my right hand up, ramming the heel of my palm into the underside of his nose.
There’s a crunching noise, followed by a spray of red. The guard stumbles back, reflexively clutching his broken nose, and I grab the barrel of his M16, kicking at his knee as I yank the assault rifle toward me.
My foot connects with his knee, but the man doesn’t let go. Instead, he releases his nose and grips the weapon with both hands, pulling it—and me—toward him.
He may not be as well trained as Lucas, but he’s still much stronger than me.
Realizing I only have seconds before he wrestles me to the ground, I stop pulling and push the gun toward him instead, causing him to lose his balance for a moment. At the same time, I kick upward between his legs as hard as I can.
My sneaker meets its target: the guard’s balls. A choked gasp escapes the man’s throat, followed by a high-pitched scream as he bends at the waist. His face turns sickly pale, and his grip on the gun loosens for a second—which is all the time I need.
Jerking the heavy weapon out of the guard’s hands, I swing it at his head.
The rifle makes a loud thud as it meets his skull. The impact of the collision sends a shock of pain through my arms, but my opponent drops like a stone.
I have no idea if he’s unconscious or dead, and I don’t waste time checking. If there are other guards in the vicinity, they might’ve heard his scream.
Clutching the M16, I begin running.
Tree. Bush. A gnarled root. An ant hill. The tiny landmarks blur in front of my eyes as I run, my breath rattling loudly in my ears. Every couple of minutes, I glance behind me for signs of pursuit, but none are evident, and after a few minutes, I risk slowing down to a jog.
Where the hell is that river? Two and a half miles is about four kilometers; it shouldn’t take this long to get there.
Before I have a chance to wonder if Rosa might’ve lied, the ground in front of me suddenly slopes downward at a sharp angle. I skid to a stop, barely managing to avoid tumbling down the incline, and through the thick tangle of bushes in front of me, I see a shimmer of blue below.
The river.
I’m at the northern border of Esguerra’s compound.
My breath whooshes out in relief. I start forward to get a closer look—and freeze again.
Less than a hundred meters to my left is a guard tower.
The trees had obscured it from my view.
I back up and crouch behind the nearest tree, desperately hoping the guards didn’t spot me yet. When I don’t hear shouts or gunshots, I risk peeking out to look at the tower again.
The structure is tall and ominous, looming over the forest. At the top is a solid square enclosure with slits instead of windows, and around the enclosure is an open-air walkway. I don’t see any guards on the walkway, but they’re all probably inside, hiding from the stifling heat in the shade. There are no markings on the structure. It could be North Tower Two, or it could be some other one. There’s no way for me to know.
I’ll be passing right by it if I head west, and if the guards inside the enclosure look outside, I’ll be caught in an instant.
For a moment, I consider turning back and trying to locate the road when I’m farther south, out of sight of this guard tower, but I decide against that. There could be more towers there. Plus, Rosa said the security software focuses on things approaching the estate. That means the computer might flag anything moving south from this point.
I have to either cross the river here, or turn west now and attempt to find the road where it intersects with this river.
I look at the river. With the thick bushes blocking my view, I can’t tell how wide or deep it is. It could easily have a strong current or, since it’s the Amazon rainforest, be teeming with crocodiles. If I were a particularly strong swimmer, I’d risk it, but crossing jungle rivers wasn’t a big part of my training.
I glance at the tower again. Still no guards on the walkway. Could they be playing poker inside?
I vacillate between my two options for a minute, debating the pros and cons of each, but ultimately, it’s the position of the sun that helps me make my decision. It’s moving lower in the sky, signifying that the afternoon is wearing on. I don’t have a watch, so I don’t know the time, but it’s probably getting close to three p.m.
If I don’t locate the road soon, I risk missing the delivery truck, and then it won’t matter if the guards in the tower spot me or not. Once Diego and Eduardo realize I’m missing, I’ll be found in a matter of hours if I’m still in this jungle on foot.
Trying to steady my shaking hands, I place the M16 on the ground. I’m much more likely to get shot if I’m visibly armed, and one assault rifle won’t help me against guards who are better armed and have the protection of the enclosure.
With one last look at the river, I leave the shelter of my tree and head west, toward the tower.
Thin tree. Thick tree. Root. Bush. A cluster of wild flowers. I stare at the plant life as I walk, the fear like icy fingers clawing at my chest. The tower looms closer—I can see it in my peripheral vision now—and I focus on not looking at it, on moving slowly and deliberately, just one foot in front of another.
Thick tree. Another thick tree. A small ditch that I have to jump over. My heart feels like it might leap out of my throat, but I keep moving, keep not looking at the tower. It’s parallel to me, then slightly behind me, and I still keep my gaze trained ahead and walk at the same measured pace.
My skin crawls and the back of my neck tingles as I cross a small clearing, but there are still no shouts or gunfire.
They don’t see me.
This must be North Tower Two.
I risk picking up my pace slightly, and when I glance back a couple of minutes later, the tower is no longer visible.
I stop and lean against a tree trunk, my knees going weak with relief.
I made it past the tower without getting shot.
When my frantic heartbeat slows a little, I force myself to straighten and keep going.
I don’t know how long it takes before I reach the road, but the sun is hovering lower in the sky when I find it. The road is not much—it’s just an unpaved path cutting through the jungle—but at the point where it meets the river, it widens onto a sturdy wooden bridge.
I stop and listen, but all is silent. No sounds of a car approaching, no signs of the guards.
I turn onto the bridge and start walking. Immediately, I realize I was right not to try crossing the river at the earlier location. The river is wide, and both banks are steep, almost cliff-like. Even if I made it across, I would’ve had trouble climbing up the other side.
I keep walking, and soon the bridge—and Esguerra’s compound—is behind me. I try to keep to the tree line as much as I can while staying by the road. I don’t want to be spotted by any drones that might be patrolling the area, but I can’t chance missing the returning delivery truck.
I walk for what feels like hours before I finally hear the rumble of a car engine.
This is it.
I take out the knife I stole from Lucas’s kitchen and stick it into the waistband of my shorts, covering the handle with the bottom of my tank top. I hope I won’t have to use the knife, but it’s best to be prepared.
Ignoring the frantic hammering of my pulse, I step out onto the road and wait for the vehicle to approach.
It’s a van, not a truck as I supposed. It stops in front of me, and the driver—a short middle-aged man with darkly bronzed skin—jumps out, staring at me in surprise. He asks something in Spanish, and I shake my head, saying, “Tourist. I’m an American tourist, and I got lost. Please help me.”
He looks even more surprised and says something in rapid-fire Spanish.
I shake my head again. “Sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”
He frowns and looks around, as if expecting a translator to jump out from the bushes. When nothing happens, he shrugs and motions
for me to follow him to the car.
I climb into the passenger seat next to him, making sure to keep my hand close to the knife at my side. The delivery man could be Esguerra’s employee, or he could be a civilian who just happens to deliver food to an arms dealer’s estate.
Either way, if he tries anything—or attempts to call anyone—I’m ready.
The driver starts the car, and the van begins moving, heading north on the dirt road. After a few minutes, the man puts on some music and starts humming along under his breath. I smile at him and move my hand off the knife handle.
I made it.
I escaped.
Now I can warn Obenko and save my brother.
“Goodbye, Lucas,” I whisper soundlessly as the van bumps along the unpaved road, carrying me away from my captor.
Carrying me away from the man I love.
THE END
Thank you for reading! I would greatly appreciate it if you left a review because reviews encourage me to write and help other readers discover my books.
Lucas & Yulia’s story continues in Claim Me (Capture Me: Book 3). If you’d like to be notified when the book is out, please sign up for my new release email list at www.annazaires.com.
If you haven’t read Nora & Julian’s story, I encourage you to try Twist Me. All three books in that trilogy are now available. Please click HERE to get the book.
Additionally, if you liked this book, you might enjoy Mia & Korum’s story, another trilogy of mine that is already complete. Please click HERE to get the book.
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Excerpt from Twist Me
Author’s Note: Twist Me is a dark erotic trilogy about Nora and Julian Esguerra. All three books are now available.
* * *
Kidnapped. Taken to a private island.
I never thought this could happen to me. I never imagined one chance meeting on the eve of my eighteenth birthday could change my life so completely.
Now I belong to him. To Julian. To a man who is as ruthless as he is beautiful—a man whose touch makes me burn. A man whose tenderness I find more devastating than his cruelty.
My captor is an enigma. I don’t know who he is or why he took me. There is a darkness inside him—a darkness that scares me even as it draws me in.
My name is Nora Leston, and this is my story.
* * *
It’s evening now. With every minute that passes, I’m starting to get more and more anxious at the thought of seeing my captor again.
The novel that I’ve been reading can no longer hold my interest. I put it down and walk in circles around the room.
I am dressed in the clothes Beth had given me earlier. It’s not what I would’ve chosen to wear, but it’s better than a bathrobe. A sexy pair of white lacy panties and a matching bra for underwear. A pretty blue sundress that buttons in the front. Everything fits me suspiciously well. Has he been stalking me for a while? Learning everything about me, including my clothing size?
The thought makes me sick.
I am trying not to think about what’s to come, but it’s impossible. I don’t know why I’m so sure he’ll come to me tonight. It’s possible he has an entire harem of women stashed away on this island, and he visits each one only once a week, like sultans used to do.
Yet somehow I know he’ll be here soon. Last night had simply whetted his appetite. I know he’s not done with me, not by a long shot.
Finally, the door opens.
He walks in like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.
I am again struck by his masculine beauty. He could’ve been a model or a movie star, with a face like his. If there was any fairness in the world, he would’ve been short or had some other imperfection to offset that face.
But he doesn’t. His body is tall and muscular, perfectly proportioned. I remember what it feels like to have him inside me, and I feel an unwelcome jolt of arousal.
He’s again wearing jeans and a T-shirt. A gray one this time. He seems to favor simple clothing, and he’s smart to do so. His looks don’t need any enhancement.
He smiles at me. It’s his fallen angel smile—dark and seductive at the same time. “Hello, Nora.”
I don’t know what to say to him, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Here in the room? Or on the island?”
“Both.”
“Beth will show you around tomorrow, take you swimming if you’d like,” he says, approaching me. “You won’t be locked in, unless you do something foolish.”
“Such as?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest as he stops next to me and lifts his hand to stroke my hair.
“Trying to harm Beth or yourself.” His voice is soft, his gaze hypnotic as he looks down at me. The way he’s touching my hair is oddly relaxing.
I blink, trying to break his spell. “And what about on the island? How long will you keep me here?”
His hand caresses my face, curves around my cheek. I catch myself leaning into his touch, like a cat getting petted, and I immediately stiffen.
His lips curl into a knowing smile. The bastard knows the effect he has on me. “A long time, I hope,” he says.
For some reason, I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t have bothered bringing me all the way here if he just wanted to fuck me a few times. I’m terrified, but I’m not surprised.
I gather my courage and ask the next logical question. “Why did you kidnap me?”
The smile leaves his face. He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with an inscrutable blue gaze.
I begin to shake. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No, Nora, I won’t kill you.”
His denial reassures me, although he could obviously be lying.
“Are you going to sell me?” I can barely get the words out. “Like to be a prostitute or something?”
“No,” he says softly. “Never. You’re mine and mine alone.”
I feel a tiny bit calmer, but there is one more thing I have to know. “Are you going to hurt me?”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer again. Something dark briefly flashes in his eyes. “Probably,” he says quietly.
And then he leans down and kisses me, his warm lips soft and gentle on mine.
For a second, I stand there frozen, unresponsive. I believe him. I know he’s telling the truth when he says he’ll hurt me. There’s something in him that scares me—that has scared me from the very beginning.
He’s nothing like the boys I’ve gone on dates with. He’s capable of anything.
And I’m completely at his mercy.
I think about trying to fight him again. That would be the normal thing to do in my situation. The brave thing to do.
And yet I don’t do it.
I can feel the darkness inside him. There’s something wrong with him. His outer beauty hides something monstrous underneath.
I don’t want to unleash that darkness. I don’t know what will happen if I do.
So I stand still in his embrace and let him kiss me. And when he picks me up again and takes me to bed, I don’t try to resist in any way.
Instead, I close my eyes and give in to the sensations.
* * *
All three books in the Twist Me trilogy are now available (click HERE). Please visit my website at www.annazaires.com to learn more and to sign up for my new release email list.
Excerpt from Close Liaisons
Author’s Note: Close Liaisons is the first book in my erotic sci-fi romance trilogy, the Krinar Chronicles. Whil
e not as dark as Twist Me and Capture Me, it does have some elements that readers of dark erotica may enjoy.
* * *
A dark and edgy romance that will appeal to fans of erotic and turbulent relationships...
In the near future, the Krinar rule the Earth. An advanced race from another galaxy, they are still a mystery to us—and we are completely at their mercy.
Shy and innocent, Mia Stalis is a college student in New York City who has led a very normal life. Like most people, she's never had any interactions with the invaders—until one fateful day in the park changes everything. Having caught Korum's eye, she must now contend with a powerful, dangerously seductive Krinar who wants to possess her and will stop at nothing to make her his own.
How far would you go to regain your freedom? How much would you sacrifice to help your people? What choice will you make when you begin to fall for your enemy?
* * *
Breathe, Mia, breathe. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small rational voice kept repeating those words. That same oddly objective part of her noted his symmetric face structure, with golden skin stretched tightly over high cheekbones and a firm jaw. Pictures and videos of Ks that she’d seen had hardly done them justice. Standing no more than thirty feet away, the creature was simply stunning.
As she continued staring at him, still frozen in place, he straightened and began walking toward her. Or rather stalking toward her, she thought stupidly, as his every movement reminded her of a jungle cat sinuously approaching a gazelle. All the while, his eyes never left hers. As he approached, she could make out individual yellow flecks in his light golden eyes and the thick long lashes surrounding them.