by Brooks, JB
“Then Andy’s a lucky guy. We must go early, before the traffic, and before the police are out and about.”
“Can’t you just go? Why drag me along?”
Mason stared at him.
“Okay, okay! Fucking hell!” Owen flushed.
“One more thing, I found these keys in her pocket. Do you know where this place is?” He showed Owen the address on the key tag.
“Yeah, it’s not far. Lots of students live on that street.”
“Good.” He dropped the keys into his brother’s palm. “See if you can find it, and get her some clothes and stuff.”
“What if somebody sees me?”
“They’ll think you’re her boyfriend. Besides, if you’re lucky, no one’ll be around at this hour of the night.”
“All right, I’m going. What’s she doing now?” Owen paused with his hand on the doorknob.
“Having a shower. I locked her in. I’m going back there now.”
***
Evelyn stood on top of the toilet with her head stuck out of the tiny bathroom window, which she’d opened wide. Behind her, the shower sent clouds of steam billowing up to the ceiling.
She’d climbed up to see if the window offered an escape route—she was small enough to squeeze through—but it was a sheer, three-story drop to the dark ground at the back of the res. Just as she pulled it closed again, she heard her captor’s voice, loud and clear, from outside.
A quick peek had revealed that the open window of the room next door was scarcely more than an arm’s length away. He was in the next room, speaking to somebody!
As quick as a flash, she leaped down from the toilet and ran out into the bedroom, grabbing a towel on the way to cover her nakedness. She went to the door and turned the knob. Locked. Shit! There were no sounds from without, nobody to hear her if she banged and screamed.
She returned to the bathroom and climbed up to the window again. Maybe she would overhear something useful, or, if she were lucky, see someone outside to call to. Nothing moved in the shadowy garden below, so she stood still and listened carefully. After a moment, she made out the conversation. Her captor’s name was Mace and he had just announced to somebody called Owe that he wasn’t planning to let her go! She almost fell when he said that. It was monumentally, mind-blowingly unfair. How dare he not let her go now that he’d discovered his enormous mistake?
And he planned to take her away to some godforsaken deserted ranch! How could he do such a thing when he’d already done her so much wrong, violated her? A fresh surge of panic swept over her—she couldn’t let him take her away. What if he never let her go?
She had every intention of reporting him to the police, of course. He needed to be punished! The strength of her outrage astonished her, sending fiery heat quivering through her limbs and washing away some of her shame and fear. To his credit, Owe seemed to think it was a terribly bad idea, but that didn’t stop him from agreeing to help her nemesis. Clearly he also needed to be taught a lesson, especially as he seemed to have played a role in organizing the events that led to her capture.
She scanned the ground again. Where were all the people she’d heard earlier? Maybe she should scream anyway. She drew a deep breath then released it in a quivering, soundless gust. The only people she knew for sure would hear her, were Mace and Owe in the next room, and they’d reach her long before anyone else could.
When they mentioned leaving by three she climbed down, her legs trembling. He’d be back soon. She’d better get on with her shower. But at least she knew what she needed to do to get free. She had to convince them that she wouldn’t go to the police.
Chapter Three
Mason sat on the bed, deep in thought, when Owen came back. It was almost time to leave, but Evelyn hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet, although the water had stopped running over an hour ago. Mason let his brother in then knocked on the bathroom door.
“Come on, Evelyn, it’s time to come out.”
“No.”
He rattled the thin plywood door. “Don’t be like that, please. You could probably break this door down. You know I can. Just come out like a good girl.”
The door opened, releasing a gasp of humid air, fragranced with the perfumes of soap, shampoo, and the essence of Evelyn herself. He inhaled lustfully.
She was dressed in her jeans and t-shirt again, her damp hair hanging over her shoulders in gently curling tendrils. Although her face was flushed pink from the heat of her shower, dark circles marred the translucent skin under her eyes. She looked exhausted but she met his gaze with a determined expression.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking. I realize that what happened was a mistake, and I admit you didn’t rape me.”
Damn, there was never a voice recorder handy when you needed one, thought Mason. But this was too easy and his instincts prickled.
She went on. “I won’t go to the police, or cause any trouble about this. I just want to forget the whole thing. Please let me go now.”
Sincerity throbbed in her voice. Tension crackled like an electric current between them.
“Sorry, Evelyn. I think you’re going to run to the police as soon as I let you out of my sight.”
“I will not, damn it! I said I won’t, so I won’t!”
“Won’t you? Look at you. You’re so angry.” His voice just a whisper, he gazed down on her face, searching for the truth. “You want to punish me, don’t you, Evelyn? You’d like to see me suffer. I can’t blame you.” He sounded resigned, regretful.
“Please just let me go. Don’t take me away somewhere.” Her voice was a desperate, broken whisper, her throat so clogged with emotion that she could hardly speak.
“Oh, you heard that, did you?” He shook his head, disappointed that he’d read her so accurately. “The walls are even thinner than I remember. I’m really sorry, but I just can’t let you go until I know for sure that you won’t go to the police.”
“Then you’ll have to keep me forever,” she whispered, “because I hate you, and nothing will ever change that.”
She brushed past him without a word then stopped short when she saw Owen.
“Ah, the rapist has a friend.”
Owen winced and flushed, looking past her to Mason.
“This is my brother, Owen. I’m Mason Brady, by the way. And you just admitted I didn’t rape you. We both heard you say it.”
“I pretended to admit it so that you’d let me go. And nobody would believe him anyway. He’s an accomplice and your brother.”
“Damn it, Evelyn! This isn’t a game!”
She said nothing, but crossed to the table where her mobile and card were lying and picked them up. Her shoulders slumped visibly when she realized that her phone was broken.
“I’ll buy you another one. Any kind you like.”
She snorted and put the broken phone and card into her back pocket.
“Did you get everything?” Mason asked Owen.
“Yeah, it’s in my van. Do you want me to transfer it to your car?”
“No, it’s okay where it is.”
He turned to Evelyn and took a deep breath. This was not going to be pleasant.
“Evelyn, you have to wear the hood again until you’re in the car. I wish there was another way, but I don’t want anybody to see you and I can’t have you signaling to anyone. If you promise not to fight, I won’t tie your hands.”
She stood for a moment, staring at him without moving, until he felt about two centimeters tall. Then, with a quiet dignity, she moved to the bed and picked up the hood from where it lay on the pillows. Shaking out the fabric, she pulled it over her head and waited, her arms at her sides.
He exchanged glances with Owen, who shrugged, then hastily pulled on his black shirt.
“I’ll just carry you,” he said roughly. “It’ll be easier.” His cock leaped at the opportunity to hold her again.
He picked her up and cradled her against his chest. She resisted for a minute, rigid in his arms, then slum
ped against him. He left Owen to lock up behind him and strode off to the car park, wishing it were farther away.
***
Evelyn gave in to exhaustion and let her head rest on Mason’s shoulder. She had never been so tired in all her life, emotionally, physically, mentally. What a botch she’d made of convincing him she wouldn’t go to the police. She needed to sleep and to eat something, and then she’d be ready to fight again. That was why she’d submitted with such apparent meekness to wearing the hood. She was glad he couldn’t see her face as she let her eyes close, her head cushioned on a thick pad of muscle. He smelled good, clean and masculine, of spicy aftershave and a hint of musk, probably from their sex.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Her pussy was tender and throbbing, and since she didn’t have any panties on, the seams of her jeans chafed her, an uncomfortable and insistent reminder of how he’d invaded her. Her breasts were also tender, her nipples painfully sensitive. In fact, despite her shower, her body bore a hundred signs of his possession. She’d washed his come off her inner thighs under the hot water, but she could do nothing about the sperm inside her. She imagined it coating the walls of her channel, her womb. She was on the pill, thank god, but pregnancy was only one of her worries. She needed to speak to him about it.
She sighed. That could also wait until tomorrow.
“I’m taking your van, Owe, and you’re going to drive my car.” They had reached the vehicles, apparently, but he didn’t put her down.
“You’re gonna let me drive your Range Rover? Fuck, that’s sweet!”
“Well, Evelyn’s going in the back of your van where she can’t be seen, and I don’t want to leave her, so I’ll have to drive the piece of shit. It looks even worse than when I last saw it!”
“Yeah. I went down to Tasmania with the guys last break. It was a long haul for the old girl.”
“It hardly looks like it’ll make it to the ranch. When last did you have it serviced?”
Owen laughed at his brother’s worry. “Just a couple of weeks ago! Have a bit of faith—she doesn’t look like much, but she’s got spirit!”
“Hmm, we’ll see. Is the bedding in the back clean?”
“Er… Just give me one minute.”
Mason cradled her in his arms for another ten minutes while Owen opened and closed doors and rummaged around in the back of the van, making thumping noises.
“All done,” he said at last. “I’ll just put this dirty stuff in the Rover. You can put her in.”
But Mason still held on to her. “You get going, Owe. I want you to drive in front, about fifteen or twenty minutes ahead of us. If you see any police, or if there’s a roadblock, phone me, so I can turn off.”
“Fucking good plan! I’ll get going then. See ya!”
A minute later Owen pulled out with much revving of the engine. She felt Mason take a deep breath.
“Don’t worry about the car, Evelyn,” he said. “It’s a POS, but I’m an excellent driver.” He said it without pride and she believed him.
Without releasing her, he climbed into the back of the van and crawled forward on his knees, stooping low. He laid her down on a soft surface and took off the hood.
Evelyn blinked up at him in the dim illumination provided by the car-park lights. He leaned right over her, his face hovering above hers. A quick glance revealed the back of an old sleeper van, the entire floor taken up by the mattress. Kitschy lace curtains covered the small, high windows. It was hard to see, but the predominant color scheme seemed to be yellow.
‘“Yeah, it’s Owen’s fuck-mobile,” drawled Mason. “I think it’s older than he is, but he loves it dearly.”
She almost laughed in surprise, but his next question sobered her.
“Do you think you can behave, Evelyn? It’s going to be an eight-hour trip at least. I’m sure you’d prefer not to be tied up the whole time.”
“Please don’t tie me up.” She despised the pleading note in her voice. “I’ll be good.”
He dropped his head for a moment. “God, you say the sweetest things. But I hate the word don’t.”
She frowned in confusion.
“I won’t tie you now but I can see you in the rear-view mirror. If you try to escape, or signal to other cars, or do anything other than lie here perfectly still, I’ll pull over and truss you up so fast you won’t know what happened! Understood?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good girl. Try to get some sleep.”
His body pressed against hers for the briefest moment before he backed away, pausing to adjust the curtains so no gaps were visible.
He closed and locked the rear doors of the van then slid into the cab behind the wheel, and a moment later they were underway. He drove smoothly and within minutes sleep stole over her.
When she woke, bright afternoon sunlight was streaming through the open windows, the air in the van hot. The engine was off and it was very quiet except for the loud cooing of a pigeon somewhere nearby. She was sweaty and thirsty, and a heavy weight rested against her. Mason slept behind her, squashed in between her body and the side of the van, his heavily muscled arm curled around her below her breasts. She froze, and her blood ran hot, then cold, then hot again. He’d removed his shirt! She could see his naked shoulder if she turned her head slightly.
She desperately needed to get out of the suffocatingly hot van. She had to relieve herself, now. Escape was on her mind, but secondary to these more urgent, earthy needs.
She looked at the arm around her. He was much more tanned than she was, with a sprinkling of black hair up the forearm. Thick veins raised ridges under his skin, and his upper arms were the size of her thighs. He wore three dark bands of leather thong, intricately knotted, around his brawny wrist. Gingerly she grasped it above the leather and tried to lift his arm away from her body. She encountered no resistance and his breathing remained regular, but when she eased her body away from his, the arm snapped tight and he woke up.
“Where are you going?” His mouth right next to her ear, his breath tickled her neck.
She struggled against his hold. “Let me go, damn it. I need air, I’m boiling. And I really need to pee. What are you doing in here anyway?” Suspicion and fear made her voice shrill.
He let her go and they sat up. She thrust away from him, as far as she could in the cramped confines of the van, and stared at him with open hostility. Her shirt was damp where his arm had been resting.
“I needed to sleep. I’ve been driving for hours. I held on to you so that you couldn’t escape.”
He crawled to the foot of the bed and opened the doors. Blessedly cooler air blew in. She pulled her sticky t-shirt away from her skin and scrambled out of the van with him on her heels.
He had parked under some tall eucalyptus trees next to a narrow dirt road. Dappled shadows chased each other over the sandy ground as the sun beat down through the leaves. Across the road was a small lake, with little brown ducks drifting lazily on the surface. No buildings. No cars. No people.
“Where are we?” asked Evelyn, looking around.
“We’re actually pretty close to my ranch, about an hour away,” replied Mason. “You slept for a long time. We still have to pass through Rockhampton, but Owen phoned to let me know there’s a police roadblock outside the city—just the usual, checking licenses and breathalyzing for drink driving—but we don’t want to risk them finding you in the back of the van. We’ll have to wait until they pack up and go, so I decided to pull off the highway for a rest.” He looked at the sky. “When I parked, the van was on the shady side of the trees. We’ve been here for almost four hours.”
He yawned and stretched lavishly, arching his back, all the muscles in his arms and torso rippling and elongating. She knew she was staring, but who wouldn’t? On his tall frame those bulky muscles looked sleek, not brutish. On the muscle under his upper left arm was a tattoo, a stylized cross.
“Enjoying the view?” He grinned, catching her eyes on him.
/> She snorted and turned away. “I don’t like anything about you.”
She marched ’round the van into the trees. “Turn your back and don’t look. And don’t panic, I won’t try to escape.”
“I know you won’t,” he said smugly. “There’s nothing around for miles and you don’t even know which way the highway is.”
“Ha! So you admit that holding on to me in the van was just another excuse to molest me! Keep your damned hands to yourself from now on. Your touch makes me sick!”
***
Mason sighed. She’d seemed so compliant the night before, lying in his arms when he’d carried her to the van, that he’d allowed himself to hope she would forgive him, that she understood his profound regret over what had happened. He’d taken a huge risk with not tying her up, but he felt so bad about what he was doing that he didn’t have the heart to torment her any further. Her exhaustion was palpable, and he’d gambled that she’d fall asleep quickly, which she had.
He’d driven for over seven hours, acutely aware of the sleeping woman behind him, tormented by his guilty thoughts and the realization of how terrible the consequences of his error might be.
They had not had safe sex. He’d thought they were protected by the rules of The Chase—she on birth control, and both of them with certified clean bills of health—but the rules didn’t apply. She didn’t seem the type, but that was no way to judge, and she could have an STD. Even worse, she could be pregnant right now.
He’d raced on through the dark until the breaking dawn lit the horizon on his right, with fear churning in his gut, praying that things would somehow be better in the full light of day and wondering what he’d do if the worst happened. He couldn’t imagine knowing that a child of his was alive in the world but beyond his reach.
It was midmorning by the time he pulled off the road, his head pounding, and tried to arrange his big body in some way that would allow him to sleep in the cab, but it was hopeless. At last he climbed in the back next to Evelyn. He didn’t have the heart to tell her, but it was she who closed the small distance between them a little while later, snuggling her delectable denim-clad ass into his groin and leaning back against his chest, her hair catching lightly in the stubble on his chin. Against all odds, comforted by her acceptance of him at least in sleep, he dozed off.