“Please,” I muttered under my breath. “Please let it be something I can use.”
Scraping my knees as I pulled my body towards my only hope, I narrowed my gaze until I realized that I was staring at a nail. At one time, it had to have held something up or in place, but now it looked lonely and sad, well past the point of its proper use but still trapped in this prison.
And I was more than ready to give it another chance at doing something far more worthwhile that simply suspending a shelf to the air.
I groaned quietly as I pressed my body against the sharp edge, my fingers just touching the slim surface. As soon as the nail hit the tip of my thumb, I winced at the feel of what had to be blood bubbling through my skin. But one small cut was nothing compared to what might happen if I didn’t take this chance and get the hell out.
“Peter… I… I need you,” I whimpered.
Stretching up and down the business end of the nail, I nearly fell over several times as I worked to loosen the ropes. The twine was barely giving way, and I feared that I did not have the time or the strength to seek freedom by degrees. Should I stop and try to save my strength and simply search for a place to hide among the shadows? But they might have a light and then I would have nowhere to hide. If they found me, still bound, I would be at their mercy and then… then…
“Come on,” I grunted as I kept trying to break through the ropes.
Even as I started to make some headway, I felt my wrists growing raw, my fingers sliced and bleeding. Whimpering though the pain and fighting back fresh tears, I forced my mind to the other end of this horror. I had to get free. But would I find the door locked? No doubt I would but the nail was now my friend. I had only ever seen a lock picked in the movies, but I felt certain that I had the right idea, and as the ropes finally started to fall away, I envisioned wielding a knife like the sharpest of swords, like the letter opener in the park, and slicing through a sea of masked men and finding my way back to the open air. I didn’t have a knife but I could still run as fast as my legs would carry me. Maybe it was still Virginia; maybe it was miles from any hope of help. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Yes!”
With my raw wrists free, I managed to get my body to my feet, and I stumbled towards the bottom of a narrow staircase. Taking hold of my skirt in my bloodied hand, I started moving up the stairs towards the door when I froze in place at the sound of the door creaking open. I took a few steps back and held the nail in front of me as a shadowy figure with a familiar stance started to shift into view. It had to be Swanson, here to finish whatever job he had failed to do. If only Peter had been honest with me. If only he had admitted that the man was here to hurt us, then maybe…
“Well look who figured out how to untie a knot,” the voice said.
The room suddenly filled with harsh light, and I hid my face in an effort to protect my watering eyes from the glare. When I managed to look up again and focus my stare, there was no trace of Swanson or his scar in sight. Only someone who should be locked in his own kind of hell…
“Hello, wife.”
Morgan’s voice was like ice as he smoothed his hands down his shirt and pressed his hands to his hips.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” he said.
“Why… how…?” I stammered.
“It was no accident that I was on your particular flight, Caroline,” he started. “We needed to stop you from getting to Aruba. And now I’m going to see what you have to offer.”
As I tried to talk, Morgan flattened his palm. The force of his blow across my face sent me crashing to my back, and then all I knew was blackness.
***
Caroline has been kidnapped and is being held in a dark cellar. And she feels true fear when she realizes that she knows her captor and that his cruelty knows no bounds.
And amidst the horror of her kidnapping, she has a dream which reveals hidden memories to her. Memories that she has fought to forget and which now threaten to overwhelm her and plunge her into darkness.
Can Peter rescue her before it is too late?
The Corrupt Billionaire Romance
Part Four: Memories
Camilla Hope
Chapter One
Peter came to with a dull ache in his head and reached for his jaw. Nothing felt broken. At least that was something to hang onto. But what in the world…?
“Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Swanson,” a voice said although Peter wasn’t sure he was speaking to him.
Slowly, Peter became aware of his surroundings. He was in a cluttered room with antiqued furniture. There was hardly any moonlight passing through the window so he couldn’t see much but he was aware of the faintest trace of Caroline’s sweet perfume hanging in the air.
“Caroline…?” he murmured.
Murmuring her name and trying to make his way to his feet, his head spun before he could stand, and he slipped back to the floor, blinking hard at the sight of Swanson pacing the other side of the room as he smirked into his phone.
“That’s right,” Swanson said to whoever was on the other end of the line. “We got ‘em both right where we want them.”
Shaking off every trace of drowsiness, all of Swanson’s threats churning around the back of his throat to the point where he thought he would gag on the excess, Peter was ready to leap forward and beat the truth out of him. Where was she, and what did he want?
Suddenly Peter stopped where he sat. He decided that it would be better to listen and try to get a heads up, some hint of what was really going down. He might need that information later on.
And there had to be a later on, a tomorrow, he thought. There was no way in hell he was going to lose her now.
“Oh he’ll play ball,” Swanson snickered. “All that bullshit about trying to go straight. That, my friend, was never going to fly. Not in this lifetime.”
So, Peter thought, they wanted him back in the game, working his connections to get the lines of production back up and running. It made sense and Peter thought that maybe he might even consider it if it got him back to her side. But only until she was safe.
“I hear you,” Swanson continued. “Of course. Of course she should pay.”
She should… why would he say that, Peter wondered? Did they think she knew too much? That much was almost true. But it wasn’t enough to bring them down or cause them any real harm. He could try to tell them as much. Probably little to no chance that they would buy it, but it was still a story to spin.
“Now hold up a sec, me and the flyboy get to taste the goods first. Yes we… like hell! That was the arrangement!”
Flyboy, Peter wondered? What did that mean?
“How the hell was I supposed to know that the fucking engines would fail?” he said. “So the kid panicked and let them play house for a few days. We needed a chance to regroup.”
So the plane crash was just some unkind twist of fate and nothing more sinister than that. But now that Peter knew that Morgan, or whoever the hell he was, was somehow in on this, a fresh shiver ran up his spine. Because Caroline would have trusted him, followed him wherever he said that she should go.
And she had walked right into a waiting trap.
“We cool then?” Swanson said.
Swanson waited for the answer, and Peter saw him smile.
“Bye bye, bud. Be in touch in a bit.”
Swanson ended the call and slowly turned to face Peter. Peter tried and failed to slam his eyes shut before he saw him looking, but Swanson slowly approached him with sneering lips.
“You get all that?” Swanson laughed. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it ain’t polite to listen in on other people’s conversations?”
Peter held his tongue as Swanson slapped him hard, enduring the blow as he was roughly dragged to his feet. Fighting the urge to smash his smug face into a bloody pulp, Peter offered no resistance as Swanson tossed him to the bed.
“Guess I was out sick that day at charm school,” Peter spat.
“Don’t get cute,” Swanson said. “No time for that now.”
On that point, Peter thought, they were in total agreement. No time for anything but ascertaining whether or not Wallace was behind the call and what they had in store for Caroline.
“You got me, Swanson,” Peter started as he lifted his hands in the air in a show of surrender. “You want me back in the game, I’ll play. What other choice to I have?”
“Now that’s better,” Swanson said as he pinched Peter’s cheek. Then he flicked a blade from his pocket and danced a few feet from the bed. Peter’s eyes stayed on the knife as Swanson’s fingers twisted tighter around the piece. Peter wanted nothing more than to get his hands on it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d used a knife on Swanson. But right now Peter needed him to stay close until he had a chance to spill. There would be plenty of time after that for him to lie down and die like the dog he was.
“But Caroline isn’t any part of this,” Peter said. “And I’m only in if you let her go.”
Swanson tilted his head to the side and released a snide chuckle as he tossed the knife from one hand to the other and back again.
“Pretty sure you’re not in any position to make demands,” he said. “Baby girl’s part of the package.”
Peter held his breath as Swanson advanced towards him again, struggling some as the big man grabbed his hair and wrenched his head back over his shoulders. But as soon as the knife was at the base of his throat, he turned to stone.
“Now let’s say you and me take a nice friendly stroll out to my car and get you back on a plane.”
“Better hope this one doesn’t crash,” Peter said.
“That was the never the plan,” Swanson said. “But then, you probably overheard that bit, too. We just needed to keep tabs on you so we sent Morgan to fly you out.”
He pulled Peter to his feet and kept the knife at his back as he ordered him to get a move on. Peter wondered how to play this. To hear Swanson tell it, the man needed him too much to let it all end now. But if Peter let him put any more distance between him and Caroline, he might never see her again. Peter was just ready to use his fists, the only weapons at his disposal, and take his chances when there was knock on the door.
“Who’s that?” Swanson asked he seized hold of Peter’s shoulder.
“Damned if I know,” Peter replied. “You invite someone else to the dance?”
Swanson twisted him around to face him, the knife in one hand as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
“You make whoever the fuck it is leave, like now,” Swanson hissed.
“Or what?” Peter challenged.
“Or my next call is to your new friend Morgan. Not that I don’t want a taste of that blonde babe, but I’ll have him ice her right now if you don’t do as you’re told.”
“You’re bluffing,” Peter said even as his heartbeat accelerated, and he clenched his fists at his sides. “You said she was part of the package.”
“Always acceptable losses,” Swanson threatened. “You really want to see if I’m fucking around here?”
And Peter knew that he had him there; when it came to Caroline, he couldn’t take the risk. When Peter finally nodded his head, Swanson hid in the bathroom as he answered the door.
“Thought you could do with another bottle of… oh!”
A large woman with silver hair seemed startled at the sight of him. Taking a slow step out of the room, Peter pushed the door shut behind him and played it off like he didn’t want to be interrupted.
“Something I can do for you?” Peter asked.
“I… I thought you were… I mean, you’re not the man that she left with.”
“I’m not?” Peter said.
“No, she was with some other fella. A little younger than you,” the woman said, a puzzled look on her face.
That lying little sack of shit! What was he doing to her now? Peter’s gaze averted back to the bottle. If he could get a grip on it, Swanson and his blade wouldn’t seem quite so strong. But Peter knew that if he saw the bottle as soon as he emerged from the bath, there was always the chance that he would reach out and dial Morgan before he had a chance to knock him over the head.
Thinking fast, Peter whispered for the woman to place the bottle under Swanson’s abandoned car.
“Now why the hell would I do that?” she questioned.
“Please. Just help me out here,” Peter pleaded.
“Honey, this stuff is too good to get smashed under someone else’s tires,” the woman said.
“That’s not my plan. Can you just…?” I whispered.
“Honey, if you need to drown your sorrows or if your lady friend comes back, you come and pay me a visit at the front desk,” she replied.
With a wink and a nod she was gone, along with any hope Peter had of having some line of defense. Resting his brow to the closed door, Peter heard Swanson stepping behind him.
“You weren’t trying to pull a fast one on me, were you?”
“Now who’s eavesdropping?” Peter challenged.
“Remember, one wrong move and I place the call to Morgan. Little blonde won’t draw so much as one more breath,” Swanson threatened.
Feeling as if he was beaten, Peter shook his head and let Swanson lead him out of the room.
“Just to be on the safe side, let’s say we duck out the back,” Swanson said.
Peter wondered if he could maybe do something to him before he pushed him into the car. Maybe whirl around fast and wrestle the knife and the phone from his hold. Anything to keep Swanson from taking him away and making that call. They were almost out the door when a loud crash startled Peter and he turned around to face his captor.
“What the…?” Peter muttered.
Swanson appeared dazed as blood trickled from his temples, and as Peter watched him collapse to the ground, the gray-haired lady triumphantly held the broken bottle over his fallen form.
“Guess I was eavesdropping, too,” she said. “Isn’t always such a bad thing.”
Feeling as if he could kiss her for thinking fast and acting quicker, Peter simply thanked her and pried the knife from Swanson’s limp hand before grabbing his phone. Scanning through his most recent calls, he saw that whoever he had spoken to last was blocked as an unknown caller. But right under that was a contact listed as Flyboy, and Peter started to tap it to life.
“Not so fast,” the lady said as she dropped the bottle and took his hand.
Chapter Two
After the crushing blow, I was barely aware of what was going on, least of all how and why it was Morgan who would do this thing to me. I tried to ask him for some kind of an explanation when he hit me again and forced my body into a hard-backed chair.
“Now wouldn’t you just love to know,” Morgan said. “Maybe later. Maybe never. My money’s on the latter.”
He pushed my hands behind my back and slapped a pair of cold metal cuffs around my wrists.
“Let’s see you work your way out of those,” Morgan said with a chilling laugh.
It seemed a lost cause, but I still kept trying to work my way free. Morgan took a step back and just laughed some more as I struggled, and I flinched when his fingers met my hair.
“Getting your fucking hands off of me!” I demanded.
“You don’t give the orders now, Miss. That’s all over for you.”
He moved his icy fingers down my neck, and I seethed at the feel of his hands on my breasts.
“You know, I kind of get it,” he said as he found my nipple and tugged at it none too gently.
“Get what?” I asked as I kept trying to escape his hands and found that the chair was bolted to the floor.
“Why he has such a hard on for you,” Morgan continued. “If you were mine, I’d never want to let you go either.”
I endured his fingers and hoped that Peter would make some kind of a connection as soon as he realized that I was gone. If only we hadn’t parted so badly. But he’d have to know that I would finally co
me back. Wouldn’t he?
“Of course, we sort of already did the husband/wife thing in words,” he continued with a leer on his face. “Might be time to consummate the union.”
Suddenly he was on his knees and ripping the billowy purple skirt from my legs. Once my limbs were exposed, he buried his head between my unwilling legs and ran his slimy tongue over my soft flesh.
“Get away from me, you pig!” I cried.
I kicked my feet into his legs, my heels pushing down on his back as I spit in his hair. Maybe I could stretch my leg high enough to crush my foot into the back of his skull, knock him out cold and somehow get my hands in his pockets and find the keys.
“Regular little hellcat, aren’t you?” he said. “That kinda turns me on!”
Morgan laughed as he backed away, slapping my face again and bringing a fresh steam of tears to my face. Too dazed to speak, I still moaned as he reached for another two pairs of manacles and bound each of my ankles to a leg of the chair. As he parted my legs to fix them in place I felt exposed and vulnerable.
“That should hold you for now.”
He ripped the rest of my dress away, leaving my aching body shivering in nothing but my bra and panties. I felt my face flush as he licked his lips at my nearly naked form and circled around to the back of the chair.
“Now let’s get a few things straight here,” he said as he played with my hair and ran his hands up and down my arms. “You’re not going anywhere for a while. Might as well just relax and try to make yourself comfortable.”
“Then take off the cuffs, you son of a bitch!”
He wheeled around to the front of the chair, and I stayed in his stare even though I felt certain that he was going to strike me again. Moving his hand back into the air, Morgan suddenly abandoned whatever plan seemed to lurk behind his menacing eyes.
“Think someone needs to cool off a little bit.”
The Corrupt Billionaire COMPLETE Box Set Page 24