The man fastening his trousers shouted something in Spanish to her guard, who laughed. He turned back to Belinda, who was frozen in place.
He reached out, took her hand and pressed it against the front of his jeans. He was hard. Belinda tried to tug her hand away, but he held her tight, grinding her palm into him and laughing while he did it. “As soon as we get the money, we’re going to play. I’m going to take that perfect mouth, and my friend over there, he’s going to come in behind you and shove himself in your backside.” He reached out with his other hand and grabbed a lock of her hair. He brought it to his nose and sniffed.
Belinda couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She just stood there, watching him, horrified by his words and the images he’d put in her head. Horrified by his obvious erection. Horrified by the sobbing woman who cowered on the bed inside the cabin.
Another man sauntered across the open area and into the cabin with the woman. The door slammed shut. There was a scream. Belinda felt tears run down her cheek. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. It was fake. Designed to make her believe the experience was real.
“You’re all actors,” she said, her voice hoarse. “This is all fake. My brother paid for this. It’s kidnap training.”
The man laughed. It was vile.
“You really are blonde and stupid. Once we get the ransom, you’ll learn how real this is. And you’ll like everything we do to you, won’t you? Because you’re nothing but a whore. You’ll like it when we tie you to the table and take turns fucking you. You’ll like the other men watching. Yes, I can see you’ll like that very much.” He pressed her hand tight against him. “Maybe I should give you a taste of what’s to come now, no?”
“Miguel!” someone barked, making the man drop his hold on her hand and step back from her.
Belinda rubbed her hand against her dress, trying to get rid of the memory of touching him. The leader was standing outside the largest hut, scowling at them. From the look on his face, he knew exactly what had been said. He snapped an order in Spanish, and her guard shouted back.
The leader gave her a look of pure speculation and licked his lips. Belinda didn’t understand what he’d told her guard, but he walked back into the main building.
“He says,” the guard told her, “that once we have the money, I can take your mouth first.”
Belinda took a step back, wishing she’d never put on the bloody shoes, so she could run if she needed to.
“Vamos.” Miguel put a hand on her shoulder and shoved her towards the cabin.
Belinda didn’t have to be told twice; she rushed for it, grateful when the door swung open and she could step inside.
“Not long to wait,” Miguel said as he started closing the door behind her. “Then you’re mine.”
Belinda turned towards John, who was sitting exactly as she’d left him. Her whole body was shaking and her knees gave way. She landed with a thud on her backside and pressed her back against the door.
“What the hell?” John was up on his knees, but the ropes made it hard for him to get to her. “What is it? What happened?”
“I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m such an idiot. How could I be such an idiot?” Belinda rocked as she muttered. She ran her palm over the ground beside her, rubbing it back and forth, trying to get rid of the feel of that man pressed against her.
“Belinda.” John’s voice seeped through the noise in her head. “What happened?”
“It’s real. It’s all real. We need to get out of here.” Belinda could barely get the words out. “Now. We need to go now. Now. Right now.”
Her hand still felt dirty. She remembered the antibacterial wipes in her tiny bag and fumbled for them.
“Belinda?” John said. “Come over her. Come to me.”
“Can’t.” She was shaking so hard she couldn’t move. She crumpled the wet wipe up into a ball and held it fast. “We need to go, John. We need to go now. This is real. It’s isn’t fake. I was wrong. So wrong. I am such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, Hollywood. You were confused. You were right, there was a lot of evidence towards this being fake.”
“Don’t patronise me. I know you thought I was nuts.” She looked over at him as tears fell. “You were right. I am so sorry. So, so sorry.”
She rocked back and forth. This was a nightmare. She was stuck in a nightmare. She could cope with make-believe. She could channel whatever feeling a script called for. It was her gift. But this? This sort of brutal reality? This was way too much to handle.
“Come over here, Belinda. You can do it. Come to me now.” John’s voice was firm, calm, solid. It tempted her to obey. “I want to make sure you’re okay. I have to check you over.” His voice wavered, and the sound snapped Belinda out of the panic that consumed her.
“He didn’t hurt me.” She had to reassure him.
“Come here,” John said softly. “Come to me. Tell me what he did.”
“He just…he just said…things.” She clutched the wipe tightly in her hand at the memory.
“Come on, baby, come over here.” He made that growling noise again. “I’d come to you, but it would mean rolling over there, and that wouldn’t look good.”
She forced a tremulous smile. His words, his strength and even his poor attempt at humour calmed her. On shaky hands and knees, she crawled to him. He sat back, his legs out in front of him, and Belinda climbed straight into his lap. She didn’t care for one second what that said about her or what he thought. He was big and strong. He had muscles and he knew how to fight. He was her only safe place in this whole terrifying mess. And she needed to be close to him. As close as possible. Just for a minute. Just until she calmed down and her heart stopped racing, and the urge to scream passed.
John lifted his arms over her head and wrapped her in the circle made by his tethered wrists. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
She felt his cheek against her hair as she absorbed his heat. She pressed her ear to his chest, above his heart, and listened to the rhythm, letting it soothe her.
“We need to leave.” Her voice was hoarse.
“We will leave.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arm. “I should never have let you go out there. I knew you thought this was all an act and I let you walk out of here ill-prepared. I’m sorry, Hollywood.”
“No.” She wiped her cheeks. “It was the right thing to do. We had to know. I had to know. I’m okay. It was just… I just… Damn it!”
“What did the bastard say?”
She hiccupped, the memory of Miguel’s words crawling over her skin. “He told me how…how he’d rape me…how they would all…”
“Fuck.” John pulled her tighter.
“There was a woman. Crying in a cabin. The men were using her.” She sobbed.
“I’m sorry, baby. For her and for you.” He rubbed at her back.
“They’re really going to do it, aren’t they?” Belinda whispered. “They’re going to rape me.”
“No. I won’t let them.” John’s voice was steel.
And in that moment, she believed him. He was her only point of reality in a situation she didn’t understand.
And she held on tight.
Chapter 8
Beast listened to Belinda’s breathing as she slept at his side. After she’d untied him, and he’d told her they were leaving at first light, the drugs in her system and the stress of the situation had knocked her out. She lay there, pressed against his side on the stinking mattress, trusting him to watch over her. And damn if her trust didn’t do something for him. Something that Belinda probably never intended. It cracked open the wall around his heart and let the woman seep inside. Just a little. But still…
He’d spent the hours she’d been asleep planning their escape, while he listened to their captors drink themselves unconscious. After Belinda had filled him in on what she’d seen around the camp, he knew their only chance of getting out of there was by boat. He’d been out cold for the trip into the ca
mp, but there was no other way the kidnappers could have transported them. A large part of him wanted to get his hands on a gun and rid the world of these men. The more sensible, restrained part of him knew he couldn’t do anything that would put Belinda in even more danger. That meant sneaking out. Into the fucking jungle.
He mentally groaned. What the hell did he know about the jungle? He knew how to survive on the street. He’d spent more than a year living rough as a kid, rather than taking the risk with another foster home. He’d had several. Some good. Some bad. But the last one had been hell. After that, living on the street had been a breeze.
But this wasn’t the street. It wasn’t even Atlantic City. And he was also the only chance that Belinda had of getting out of there alive. Or, at least, untouched. His stomach contracted as he thought of the things their guard had told her. The look on her face once the cabin door had closed behind the man was something he would never forget. He’d wanted her to believe they’d really been kidnapped, but he hadn’t wanted reality to hit her like that. He hadn’t wanted her to be terrified, shocked and broken.
He kept his eyes on the tiny window and watched as the sky began to lighten. It was time to go. Gently, he cupped Belinda’s cheek and looked down at her. She took his breath away. So beautiful. So full of life. So fucking innocent. She’d lived her life in a privileged bubble, being adored by family and friends, never wanting for anything. Never hurting. Never even conceiving that their situation was real and something terrible was happening to them. He’d resented that about her, but now, after last night, he found the resentment had gone, and a deep desire to preserve her bubble was driving him now. So, she didn’t have the experience of life that he did? Maybe that was a good thing.
“Hollywood,” he said gently. “You gotta wake up. It’s time to go.”
She stirred and snuggled deeper into him. “Five more minutes,” she muttered, her eyes still closed.
Beast couldn’t help the smile that broke free. She was cute. Like a kitten in a den full of pit bulls. “Belinda. We need to go.”
Her eyes fluttered open and the bluest of blues hit him like lasers. “Joh—Beast?” She blinked and looked around. He knew the moment she woke fully and realised where she was—her body lost its fluid softness and became stiff with tension.
She sat up straight. “It’s time to go?”
“Yeah, it’s time.”
“Good.” She nodded to herself. “That’s really good.” She scrambled away from him, embarrassed that she’d been wedged against him. Beast fought the urge to pull her back. It didn’t feel right to have distance between them. And what the hell did that mean?
“I’m, uh, sorry for, you know, clinging to you earlier.” Her cheeks were red as she scrambled to her feet. “And for falling asleep. I was…I was…upset. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for not believing you.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I got it so wrong.”
She backed away from him with each word, until she was against the wall. Beast was on his feet and striding towards her before he could second-guess his actions. He held her chin and angled her face up at him, to make her look him in the eye. Her eyes were wide with vulnerability, and he almost missed the Belinda who’d thought their kidnapping would be a fun experience.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Nothing. We’re in this together. Right?”
She seemed to be searching his eyes for the truth. He hoped she saw it. They had to rely on each other or they weren’t going to get out of this alive.
“Right?” he said again.
“Right.” She let out a breath.
“Good.” He nodded and stepped away from her, again aware at how much effort that action took. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to wrap himself around her. He wanted her in every single way a man could want a woman. It was a primal need. It had nothing to do with who they were, but lots to do with the situation they were in. He was a protector. That’s how he was wired. And she needed protection. It was nothing more. Nothing. She wasn’t his type. They didn’t walk in the same world. Logic told him that the draw between them was based on circumstances. And he could handle that. He had to.
He put as much distance between them as the cabin would allow and ran a hand through his hair. He needed to get a grip. The drugs they’d pumped into him had obviously screwed with his ability to function. He looked at Belinda, whose shoulders had straightened, and she seemed to be giving herself a silent pep talk. Good. That was good. They needed to focus.
He cleared his throat, wishing they hadn’t already finished the water they’d been given. “I’ve been listening. They partied until they fell asleep. With any luck, they’re out cold. It’s lighter outside, but not full light.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s five. This is the best time to leave. You ready?” Like she had a choice.
Her chin went up. “Absolutely.”
He nodded, unreasonably proud of her resolve. “I need you to call for the guard. Tell him you need to use the restroom again. Get him to step inside. I’ll be ready for him.”
He watched her swallow hard and knew her mind was going over what happened the last time she dealt with their guard.
“Belinda?” Beast hated the anxiety he saw on her face. “You up for this?”
“Yes.” She sounded far more certain than she looked. “Yes. I can do this. I was born to do this.”
He strode to stand behind the door. “You get him in. I’ll deal with the rest.”
She nodded and reached for the door. There was no sign of the nerves or fear from earlier. She was acting, pretending that everything was fine. Pretending she hadn’t been scared out of her mind not two hours earlier. Beast knew she was doing exactly what he’d asked her to do, but still, it rankled. He felt a cold chill run down his spine at the sight of her donning her mask. And then she looked up at him, and he saw it. The trace of fear, the hesitant vulnerability that said she more than remembered her earlier experience. At the sight, Beast felt like dirt. His hand shot out, curling around the satin-soft skin of her wrist. Wide eyes looked up at him.
“I won’t let him touch you or say anything to you.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “I know,” she whispered.
Two words that shot straight to his soul. A tether between them.
Belinda reached out and knocked the door. “Hola,” she called. “I need el baño.”
There was a scraping noise and the door swung open. Beast couldn’t see who was there, but the relief Belinda tried to mask made him think it wasn’t the same guard as earlier.
“El baño?” the guard snapped.
“Si.”
“Vamos.”
Belinda took a step towards the open door and then stopped. She flashed a smile at the man. “Shoes.” She pointed to her feet.
Before the guy could object, she turned and ran over to where her ridiculous shoes sat beside the mattress. With a grunt, the guy followed her inside. He wasn’t the same guard. But that didn’t mean he was a good guy. Beast didn’t hesitate. He swung the door shut and slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. One punch. That was all it took to make him crumple to the floor.
“Glass jaw. Lucky,” Beast said. “Get the ropes.”
He searched the guy’s pockets and took what might be useful: a book of matches and a cheap mobile phone with a dead battery. They wouldn’t be able to use it to call for help, but maybe there would be information on it that would help track these bastards down later.
Belinda handed him the same rope that had been used to bind him. “Before you tie him, I need his jeans and his shoes.”
He stilled. “What?”
“I can’t run in my shoes. Plus, I don’t want my toes to be naked, waving around like a tasty treat for anything that wants to take a bite. Trust me, I don’t want to put my feet into his shoes. I mean, can you imagine how much sweat has pooled in them?” She shuddered. “But I want to live more than I care about his sweat. I can always bathe in antibacterial wash once we get out of this plac
e. Right?”
And she was back. The mouthy, fluffy-headed woman that drove him nuts. Who was the real Belinda? The woman who curled into his arms and needed him, or the woman who chattered like a chimpanzee? He honestly didn’t know, and that was what disturbed him the most. Would be ever know if the woman Belinda presented to him was real? Was everything just an act?
He pulled the guy’s sneakers off, while Belinda unfastened his jeans.
“Why do we need the jeans?” Beast asked as he tossed the shoes beside her.
“If I don’t cover up, I’m going to get eaten alive.” She grinned at him. “That’s a relief. He’s wearing underpants. If he’d gone commando, I was planning on taking my chances with the bugs. Because wearing jeans his dick had touched— Ew!”
Seriously? “You’re worried about mosquito bites? There are guys who want to rape you and you’re worried about mosquito bites?”
“It isn’t only mosquito bites. There’s the bot fly, too. It lays its eggs under your skin. You break out in pustules that erupt with maggots. You want to deal with that, be my guest. I’d rather be covered.”
With a grumble, Beast stripped the jeans off the guy and handed them to her. He tied the guard’s feet while Belinda shimmied into the jeans. They didn’t quite fasten over her hips, so she reached into that tiny bag of hers, produced an elastic hair tie and used it to loop the button and the hole together to keep the jeans in place. A second later, she was sitting on the floor, tugging on the shoes.
“This guy has tiny feet,” Belinda said as she struggled to wedge her foot into the shoe. “Made it. They’ll have to do. I’ve worn worse to a premiere, only this time there’s no stylist armed with Botox injections to numb my feet so I can walk.”
Ransom (Benson Security Book 4) Page 5