Hacking Darkness: A Reverse Harem Romance (Dark Codes Book 1)

by Marissa Farrar

  I heard the catch of the lock being opened. I was so scared, I thought I might throw up. Terror filled me, but I managed to spot where I’d dropped the torn tape and grabbed it. I dropped to the floor, sitting up against the wall, and pulled the hood fully over my face, before shoving my hands behind my back, holding the torn tape, and praying they wouldn’t notice.

  The door opened, flooding the room with light, which I could see from the gap in the bottom of the hood. Heavy feet hit the treads of the staircase, and I tensed, my eyes wide, my nostrils flared, anticipating what was coming next.

  How many of them had come down? There were four in total, but I didn’t think I’d heard that number of footfalls.

  “Hey, sugar.” The voice I recognized as belonging to Gray-eyes. “Whatcha doing over there?”

  I clamped my mouth shut to prevent me from snapping a retort back at him. I just wanted them to leave me the hell alone.

  “It’s been a while,” came a second voice, slightly muffled. Busted-nose guy. “Maybe she’ll need a trip to the bathroom?”

  “I ain’t taking her.”

  “We could let her go on her own.”

  “With her hands tied?”

  I froze. What would they do if they discovered I’d managed to get the tape off myself? Would they punish me for it? Beat me? Or worse?

  “What would he think of that?”

  I stiffened. He? Who was ‘he’?

  “Yeah, probably best to not do anything that might piss him off.”

  There was a silence as the two of them mulled on their options.

  “Hey,” Busted said, and I instinctively knew he was addressing me. “You okay down there?”

  “Cat got your tongue?” Gray-eyes added.

  “I’m fine,” I muttered from beneath the hood. “I just want to go home.”

  “Yeah, not happening, baby-doll,” Gray-eyes said. “Sorry ’bout that.”

  “Then leave me the hell alone.” I didn’t want to antagonize them, but I couldn’t help the bite in my tone.

  Something occurred to me. The light in the room was still bright. When they’d come down the stairs, they hadn’t bothered to shut the door. Which meant it was still standing open, and these guys thought I was still tied up. I knew there were another two upstairs—at least I assumed they were, though there was a chance they’d left the property—but I had the opportunity to take them by surprise, and I had to take it.

  All in one movement, I launched myself to my feet and yanked the bag off my head. I was already moving in the direction of the stairs, propelling my feet and leaning forward as though doing so would reduce the distance between myself and freedom. It was only a short distance, and yet everything seemed to slow down as I reached the stairs. The two men let out yells of surprise and annoyance. I suddenly realized I hadn’t considered if they might be armed. I could end up with a bullet in my back before I managed to escape.

  I reached the staircase and slammed against the wood, scrabbling to race up, half-falling to my hands and knees.

  About halfway, hands wrapped around my ankles, and my feet were pulled out from under me. I slammed to the wood, the hard edges of the stairs smacking my chin, stomach, breasts, and thighs. Winding me. The hands pulled and dragged me down farther. I kicked and struggled, managed to twist my body around so I lay face up. He pulled me down the last couple of stairs, and I hit the floor hard, pain shooting through my back. He was over the top of me now, my feet released, but pinning me down with his body instead. He wore the same black balaclava he had in the car, but I could tell by his stockier frame that it was Gray-eyes who had hold of me. I punched and clawed while he tried to grab my arms to pin me down. I felt his body pressing against mine, hard and ridged with muscle. He was far stronger than I was, and bigger. I was only five-three and probably weighed one hundred and twenty pounds—not that I’d bothered to weigh myself in forever.

  In a final grasp for freedom, I went for his face. But my fingers only met with the material of the hood he wore, and with nothing left to do, I yanked the balaclava from his head. Dirty blond hair fell around a squared jaw, and those stormy gray eyes blinked down at me in surprise. He was only a little older than I was, twenty-three or twenty-four, I guessed.

  The removal of the balaclava seemed to have reset something in us all. I’d paused long enough for the other guy—Busted-nose—to get behind me, blocking the exit, and Gray-eyes got off me and scooted back, looking awkward, like he didn’t know what to do next. He pushed a hand through his jaw length hair and gave a shrug. I scrambled up to sitting and just stayed where I was. I wasn’t getting out of the door now, not with Busted-nose in the way and the element of surprise gone. Not that I’d really stood much of a chance of escaping, anyway.

  Busted-nose looked between us. “Ah, shit, she’s seen your face now,” he said to his friend.

  Gray-eyes frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “You know what that means,” he growled. He hooked his fingers beneath the bottom of his own mask and peeled it away from his face.

  What it meant dawned on me. Panicked, I hid my eyes with my hands. “No,” I cried. “I didn’t see anything. Not really, I promise!”

  But of course I had. He was good-looking, but not in a classic way. His eyes might have been a little too close together, his nose slightly broad where it might have been broken once before. His jaw was perhaps a fraction wide, but that was hidden by a darker blond stubble. But yes, I’d seen him. I’d looked directly into his face, and it was already imprinted on my mind.

  Busted gave a bark of laughter, but it contained no humor. “The only way you didn’t see his face is if you’ve suddenly gone blind.”

  “I’m really good at keeping my eyes closed,” I squeaked.

  “No, it’s too late.”

  “Okay, but I only saw one of you! I haven’t seen the others!” I continued to argue.

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re a team. We take care of each other, and if you’ve seen one of us, you might as well see the rest. The outcome is exactly the same.”

  Dread coiled in my gut. I knew what that outcome would be. He didn’t have to say it.

  Trembling, I lowered my hands from my face.

  Gray-eyes had scooted backward, but was still sitting, his hands hooked over his knees, leaning forward slightly as he regarded me. I glanced to my left and saw Busted-nose looking down at me, his head tilted to one side. He was tall, well over six feet, and blond, too, but his hair was short and swept from his wide forehead in a far more conservative style. He wore a gray shirt rolled up at the sleeves. His eyes were a bright blue, but I could see the dark smudges of purple and the swelling across the bridge of his nose from where I had kicked him. He seemed far more serious than Gray-eyes. The one who was in control.

  Movement came from the top of the stairs, and I saw two figures silhouetted in the light.

  The deep voice of Muscles. “What the hell is going on down there?”

  “It’s okay, you can come down,” Busted-nose called.

  When I’d been in the car, the big guy in front and the tattooed man driving hadn’t been wearing balaclavas. I assumed that was because they’d been up front, without the blacked out windows, and would have been pulled over pretty quickly if the cops had seen them driving around with their faces covered. They would have obviously been up to no good. They hadn’t worried about me getting a good look at their faces because I’d been in the back and they’d been facing forward, though I still would have been able to give a decent description of them, though perhaps they hadn’t realized it.

  “It’s okay,” Busted called. “She’s seen our faces. You don’t have to worry about the hoods.”

  “What? How did that happen?” It was Tattoos speaking now.

  “She’d gotten herself loose,” he replied. “Torn the tape off her wrists.”

  “Damn.” Tattoos took a couple of steps down. “Isaac is going to be seriously pissed when he finds out.”

  I stif
fened. Isaac? Which one was Isaac?

  Busted-nose gave a sigh of exasperation. “And you’ve just told her his name, idiot.”

  “Ah, shit.”

  “I don’t suppose it matters too much, anyway. If she’s seen our faces, what difference does it make if she knows our names?”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” I blurted. It was the oldest line in an abductees’ handbook, wasn’t it? “Just let me go, and I won’t say a word, I swear.”

  “Sorry, princess,” said Tattoos, taking the rest of the steps, and not looking in the slightest bit sorry. “Not going to happen.”

  I could see him clearly now. He was as dark as the other two were blond. He had hazel eyes, spiky black hair, stubble across his jaw. A cleft dimpled his chin, and his cheekbones were defined. He’d donned a leather jacket since I’d last seen him, covering the tattoos down both arms, but I could still make out the one traversing the side of his neck.

  The big guy still stood in the doorway, his massive arms folded across his chest, looking down on the rest of us.

  “Since you’ve seen our faces, and you’ve just been told what one of us is called, you might as well know our names,” said Busted-nose. “I’m Alex, and that’s Clay.” He nodded to the guy on the ground, who lifted a hand in a wave. “The one with the tats is Lorcan, and the gym-bunny up there is Kingsley.”

  Kingsley gave him a sarcastic smile then flashed Busted-nose—no, Alex—the finger.

  I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. Normal manners didn’t apply down here. It wasn’t as though I was going to say, ‘nice to meet you.’

  But that I’d seen them, and now knew all their names, clutched my insides in a giant’s fist.

  They wouldn’t be letting me go anytime soon.

  They wouldn’t let me go, period.

  Chapter Six

  I realized I was still sitting on the floor. I felt hugely self-conscious, with these four men all looking at me. For some reason, I felt more exposed now that I could see each of their faces and expressions than I had when they’d been covered by the balaclavas. Gray-eyes, who I now knew was called Clay, had gotten to his feet to join his friends.

  Wanting to bring myself on the same level, I clambered up to standing as well. Automatically, they each tensed or took a step toward me.

  I lifted both hands. “Relax. I’m clearly not going anywhere.”

  For the first time since getting here, I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra. With four men standing around me, who, I hated to say it, all happened to be young and kind of good looking, I folded my arms across my chest. None of them had laid a finger on me in any other way except for holding me hostage, of course. They hadn’t done anything perverted to me, though there was still plenty of time.

  I pushed the thought away. I didn’t want to think like that. With the four of them, and only one of me, locked down here in this converted cellar, they could do whatever the hell they wanted.

  No, there were five of them. I’d heard them mention Isaac? Who was he—their ringleader? The guy in charge. I’d first thought the one in charge was the muscle-bound guy still lurking at the top of the stairs—Kingsley—but it seemed I was wrong. There was a fifth man I hadn’t yet met.

  I remembered how quiet it had been when they’d hauled me in from the car. Even if I’d managed to get out of the cellar and then the house, was there really any chance of there being anyone around who could help me?

  “So, what are we going to do with her?” Clay asked.

  Alex shook his head. “Nothing. We just keep her here, like Isaac told us.”

  I frowned. “Who’s Isaac?”

  Alex glanced at me. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Lorcan pushed the sleeves up on his leather jacket, an unconscious gesture, as though he was preparing to go into a fight. His brow was drawn down, and he looked like the kind of guy who had a permanent scowl on his face. “I think we should tape her up again. She’s already proven how much trouble she can cause if we just let her roam around freely.”

  I shook my head. “Please don’t. I’ll behave, I promise. I mean, how much trouble can I cause? You know I’m down here, and there are four of you and only one of me.”

  Alex touched his bruised nose. “You’re not exactly helpless.”

  I shrugged. What had they expected me to do?

  “Come on,” I tried again, willing to do anything other than have to face having my hands and feet bound, or, even worse, the bag over my head. “You can lock the door. This place doesn’t have any windows. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Just leave her,” called a deep voice from the top of the stairs. Kingsley. “We don’t know how long Isaac is going to be. She’s right. She’s not going anywhere. She might as well be comfortable.”

  He locked me with his deep brown gaze, his full lips a straight line, his eyes narrowed slightly, and my heart stuttered. He had a way of looking at me as though he knew something I didn’t, and it made me feel strange. Even so, I was thankful he’d stuck up for me and not encouraged the others to tie me up again. They seemed to listen to him. He appeared a little older than the others, later twenties, rather than early, though I would have placed both Alex and Lorcan around their mid-twenties. Clay was definitely the youngster of the group, though I was younger than all of them.

  “Okay,” Alex agreed. He looked to me. “We’ll leave you untied for the moment, but this is your one and only chance, got it? Screw it up, and you’ll find yourself with your hands and feet taped together, and that bag back over your head.”

  I nodded to show I understood. I would play compliant, if that was what I needed to do to get through this. But inside I was raging. I wanted to throw myself at them, to punch and claw and hit. I wanted to scream and yell, to tear around the room and slam my fists against the wall and destroy everything I came into contact with. I wanted to cry about why this was happening to me, rage at God about what I’d done to deserve this.

  But I knew if I did, I’d be tied up again, so instead I lodged all of my emotions in a hard knot inside my chest, right at the base of my throat, which seemed to expand until it was all I could feel. All I could think about. If I could focus inwardly, it would prevent me from attacking one of the four men around me, and only getting myself in more trouble.

  “I think we’re done here,” came Kingsley’s deep voice.

  The other men turned and left me, Lorcan heading back up the stairs first, followed by Clay, who took them two at a time, and then Alex, who gave me a final backward glance before following after his friends. Kingsley stood to one side to let each of them pass then stepped out of the way to pull the door shut. I thought he was going to do exactly that, but then he leaned out and hit a switch on the other side of the door, and a light above my head flickered to life. I glanced up in surprise. So, they weren’t going to shut me in the dark again, even though I was no longer bound. I looked back to Kingsley. He gave me a slow nod before pulling the door shut. I heard the familiar click as he locked it behind him.

  I’d been holding myself together the whole time they’d been down here, but now I was alone once again, I allowed my legs to give way, and I crumpled back to the floor. Trembling ran through my entire body, and I clutched my hands to my face, squeezing my eyes shut and praying to be anywhere but here. I was still no closer to learning what they even wanted with me. All I knew was that they were waiting for this mysterious Isaac to appear. From the way they spoke about him, I got the feeling he was both the one in charge, and the one to be most afraid of. If someone was going to order me killed, it would be him.

  I didn’t want to die, I realized. I hadn’t done much in the way of living my life, so far, but I didn’t want it all to end yet. Not down here. Not at the hands of a group of men who thought it was okay to steal women off the street. I wondered what I would need to do to survive this. How far would I have to go?

  When the shaking had subsided a little, I used the wall to help push myself to standing.
/>   Something occurred to me. I’d assumed Kingsley had put the lights on as a gesture of kindness, in the same way he’d convinced the others not to tie me up again, but now I wondered if he’d turned the lights on for a different reason. Cautiously, I glanced up at the walls, and into the top corners of the room. Were there cameras in here? Did they regret leaving me in the dark before, and so giving me the opportunity to work my way free of the bonds and make a run for it? I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Cameras were tiny these days and easily hidden.

  I hadn’t peed since first thing that morning, and my bladder was uncomfortably full. I didn’t have any choice but to use the bathroom, despite my fears that I was being watched. I closed the bathroom door behind me, encasing myself in the tiny space. It felt claustrophobic, but I’d rather feel claustrophobic than be spied upon. The space smelled faintly of bleach, as though it had been cleaned in preparation for my arrival. I hated to think of those men planning for my capture, or the capture of any other young woman to be held here. How cold and ruthless did you have to be to do such a thing?

  I pulled down my jeans and relieved myself quickly, my eyes taking in everything else around me. There was a toothbrush still in its clear plastic wrapper beside the sink, and toothpaste to go with it. Inside the shower stall was body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and even a disposable razor and foam. They clearly wanted me to take care of myself, even if they were planning to kill me afterward. Maybe they liked the idea of a pretty corpse.

  The thought was so morbidly dark I had to stop myself from snorting with laughter. The sound would have freaked me out even more.

  But the razor did make me pause. I glanced toward the door, knowing it was shut, but still wondering about cameras. Carefully, I slid open the plastic door and reached in to pick up the razor. A plastic casing housed the blade, and I wondered how easy it would be to break off. It wouldn’t be much of a weapon, but it might buy me some time if I was desperate.

  You are desperate. You’ve been kidnapped and locked in a cellar by four—possibly five—men. This is as desperate as it gets.