by Opal Carew
Laurie trembled, her heart racing. She tried to scramble across the seat, but he grabbed her shirt and a handful of her hair and pulled her back, then jammed his forearm across her chest, pressing down so hard she could hardly breathe.
“If you don’t want to get hurt,” he said with a snarl, “then fucking lie still.”
He climbed over her, pinning her between his knees and pressed one hand flat on her chest, holding her tight to the seat while he groped her breast with the other. She panicked, flailing and arching wildly, trying to throw him off, but he was too strong. He struck her hard across the face. Pain washed through her as she stared at him in a daze. Then he grabbed her shirt and tore it open.
“Fuck, man. We got trouble,” the driver said.
The man on top of her glanced out the window. “What are those fucking bikers doing here?”
“Maybe they know we’ve got her.”
Hope flashed through her. Had Rip figured out the people in the black car had kidnapped her and he’d pursued them?
“Or it’s just a coincidence and they’re taking a break. This is the only rest stop for the next thirty miles.”
“Well, I’m not fucking taking a chance.” The driver started the car and backed up, then pulled onto the road.
One of Laurie’s arms was pinned between her body and the man’s knee, but she flung the other arm up, trying to reach the door handle, hoping to swing it open. Her captor grabbed her arm, squeezing it painfully.
He glared at her, his cold eyes pure evil. “Lie still or I will beat the crap out of you.”
She sucked in a breath and laid there, suffering knowing Rip and the others were only yards away, but they couldn’t help her. Because they didn’t even know she was here.
“I’m not stopping again,” the driver said. “I don’t want trouble with those motherfuckers, so just keep it in your pants, and let’s get rid of her as soon as possible.”
“Fuck, whatever.” He released her, and sneered as she sat up. “And, bitch, we’re not that stupid. The safety lock is on. You wouldn’t’ve been able to get their attention back there.”
She sat up and leaned against the door, as far from him as she could get. She didn’t even fasten her seat belt. That small safety measure would force her closer to him. She’d rather die horribly in a car accident than be an inch closer to him than she had to be.
They drove for what seemed like forever. Finally, they pulled off the highway and soon traveled along a long, winding road. Eventually, they pulled up to a big cedar house.
Her eyes widened when she saw it illuminated in the moonlight.
She recognized this house from the pictures she’d seen of Donovan’s several county houses he’d shown her one time.
Oh, God. Donovan was probably in there waiting for her.
*
The man in the hat opened the car door, grabbed her arm, and dragged her from the car, then shoved her toward the house.
The driver stepped beside her and both men took an arm and hurried her along the stone path to the front steps, then to the entrance. They knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, and she found herself staring at a leering Donovan.
He stepped aside while the two men dragged her into the house. He closed the door and followed. Past the spacious foyer was a large living area with sleek, minimalistic furniture, expensive-looking and somewhat at odds with the idea of a rustic country home. But her gaze locked on the large cage in the center of the room.
Large was relative. It was about six feet tall, but was only big enough to allow one person the barest amount of space. She glanced at Donovan and the dark gleam in his eye confirmed exactly what she feared. Her gaze returned to the cage, eyeing the stainless steel bars. He intended to put her in there. Before or after he beat her … or worse … she didn’t know.
“Do you have the necklace?” he asked calmly.
Her gaze darted back to him. “I gave it to Officer Parker.”
“Yes, of course.” He walked toward her.
The other two men still had a firm grip on her upper arms so she couldn’t move away from him as he glided an unwelcome finger along her cheek. She suppressed her urge to flinch, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“A shame. It was such a pretty collar.” He walked to a table along the wall and opened a drawer. “Now you’ll just have to settle for this.”
He stepped toward her with a thick, black leather collar in his hand. It had a sturdy, round, steel ring on the front and two D rings on each side. She tried to pull her arms free from his henchmen’s grip, but they squeezed tighter until she was sure they’d left her bruised. She winced as their fingers dug into the flesh of her arms.
“You know you never should have walked away from me.” Donovan pushed her hair to one side and wrapped the thick, stiff collar around her neck, pulling it uncomfortably tight, then fastened the buckle at the back.
The coarse leather abraded her skin, and she felt a little panicky with it so tight, as if she would choke, but she knew better than to complain. If she did, he would probably tighten it even more.
“Did you enjoy your time as a biker slut?” He picked up a strand of her hair and toyed with it. “Did you service all of them?”
Her cheeks heated as she realized she couldn’t even deny his insinuation, not that it would matter if she had.
The other two men stared at her, almost drooling. Would Donovan give her to them and watch, just as he had tried to give her to Wild Card in the parking garage? Anxiety quivered through her.
Donovan stepped in front of her then nodded to the two men, who released her.
“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.
She drew in a deep breath, frozen to the spot.
She wasn’t just going to strip in front of him and his two men. Even though she knew he wouldn’t stand for her disobeying him. She stared at him, immobile, her heart pounding.
He stepped toward her and she tried to step back, then the men grabbed her arms.
He pulled something from his pocket and flicked it and she realized it was a pocketknife. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and cut through the fabric, then he ripped open the front of the shirt, exposing her heaving breasts, covered only by the black lace cups of her bra.
One of the men pulled the torn shirt down her forearms and twisted the dangling garment behind her, binding her arms as she struggled. With the two men restraining her, Donovan unfastened her jeans, then tugged them down, despite her kicking and twisting. She fell off balance and they let her fall to the floor, dropping down beside her. She’d worked her arms free from the torn shirt, but they grabbed them now and held them immobile. Donovan pulled her jeans off and tossed them aside. He knelt over her, a knee on either side of her thighs and stared down at her, an evil smile on his face.
“You should have stripped when I told you to,” he said, then he flicked open his knife again.
He tucked one of his fingers under her bra strap, his touch sending anxious tremors through her, then he flicked the blade. She winced at the cutting pain as he nicked her skin with the tip while slicing the strap.
“How unfortunate.” His eyes glittered as he dragged his finger over her cut, then raised it, blood beading on the tip. “I seem to have cut you.” He licked the drops from his finger, then stared at her again.
In a quick motion, he slashed her other strap, maliciously cutting her again. She lay there staring up at him, sucking in breaths of air, willing herself not to move. His fingers slid under the band of her bra at the side, then a sick feeling quivered through her at the sharp sensation of another nick.
He wouldn’t hold back this time. He would do whatever he wanted with her, probably even kill her, then just dump her body somewhere and nobody would be the wiser.
Because she knew that no one knew he had her. Steele would not be able to find her here.
Oh, God, she might never see Steele again. Right at this moment, all she could think about was seeing his fac
e again. Feeling his strong, protective arms around her. All her doubts about leaving her home to ride with Steele evaporated. At this moment of clarity, she knew that all she really wanted was to be with Steele. Forever.
But now that seemed impossible. She really didn’t think she’d survive this night.
Donovan tossed aside her bra and leered down at her. The other men’s gazes also locked on her bare breasts. She felt sick inside.
Donovan roughly fondled one breast.
“Now let’s see that juicy little cunt of yours.” Then before she could catch a breath, he slashed both sides of her panties, nicking her twice more.
He leaned forward and grasped her wrists. His two henchmen released their hold on her as Donovan pinned her hands over her head, his gaze locking on hers.
“There’s a black shoebox on the couch,” he said to one of the men, still staring into her eyes, looking smug at the fear he must have seen there. “Get it and put the shoes on her.”
The men moved away and within moments she felt one grasp her ankle and force her foot into a tight-fitting, very high-heeled shoe.
“I know how you like your stilettos.” His lips turned up in a malicious smile. In fact, he knew she hated them.
She felt hands fastening them around her ankles. She wanted to kick and wound with them, but the strong hands prevented her from doing that. Donovan then strapped leather bands around her wrists, then stood up and the other men grabbed her arms and lifted her to her feet. She steadied herself on the extremely high, narrow heels, almost tumbling to the floor again. She glanced down to look at the shoes, which had to be seven-inch heels, with an inch-high platform under the sole.
‘Well, don’t you look like the perfect, sexy slut.” Donovan’s hand cupped her bare bottom.
She couldn’t help herself. She lifted her foot and jabbed the sharp end of the heel into his shoe-covered foot.
“Fuck!” He lurched back knocking her off balance, but his henchmen stopped her from falling. Sparks flared from Donovan’s cold, gray eyes. He grabbed her arm and tugged her toward him, then smacked her hard across her face. She fell to the ground in a daze, her jaw aching.
“Bitch! You’ll regret that.” His blazing glare shifted to the men. “Put her in the cage.”
They pulled her to her feet and marched her to the tall narrow cell. One rough hand brushed over her breast, squeezing it, and she stifled a cry. Donovan would probably just encourage the man if she made any protest. They reached the cage and the wiry man ran his hand over her ass as the driver opened the door.
“Before we put her in …” the wiry one said, “uh … you said you didn’t care if we touched her.”
“You want to fuck her?” Donovan raised an eyebrow, watching the rising fear in her eyes. “Right here in front of me?”
“I don’t give a shit where.” The wiry man gave her breast a rough squeeze. “I just want to hear the bitch scream.”
“Oh, she’ll be screaming all right, but not from your rough handling.” Donovan’s gaze locked on her face, taking in her flaming cheeks and rapid, anxious breathing. “I wouldn’t mind watching you and your friend fucking her at the same time while she screams in protest.” He grinned evilly. “Or in pleasure, the slut she is.”
The wiry man stared at her with cruel, heated eyes and started to unfasten his pants.
“But not tonight.” Donovan walked toward the cage. “I don’t feel like sampling another man’s—I should say men’s—sloppy seconds. Put her in the cage.”
The wiry man scowled and pushed her inside.
“Fasten her wrists.” Donovan watched while the wiry man grabbed her left wrist and held it to her side, then the driver used a metal clip to fasten the ring on the wrist strap to the cage. She tried to fight them while they grabbed her other wrist and attached it at her other side, but all she accomplished was bruising herself as her struggles battered her against the cold metal bars.
Now she stood precariously balanced on these ridiculous shoes, her arms restrained at her sides.
“Use this to secure her legs.” Donovan handed the driver two black cords. “You can attach it around the heels.”
The wiry man grabbed one of her ankles and pulled it to the side, and the driver tied the heel of her shoe to the bar. When he grabbed her other ankle and pushed her legs as wide as the narrow cage would allow, she lost her balance and her ankle twisted painfully. She cried out in pain. The wiry man grabbed her hips, then stood up and pushed her against the cage, his body holding her firm. The feel of him against her sent her skin crawling. His hands roamed over her body.
Donovan simply watched for a few seconds, then finally said, “Get on with it. Tie her ankle.”
The wiry man sank back down and pressed her foot back so that the driver could tie the shoe to the cage. He stood up, his fingers trailing up her thigh. Revulsion jolted through her at his rough touch.
Then he left the cage and the driver closed the door, both men leering at her naked body.
Donovan strolled toward the cage, another thick black cord in his hand. He stepped behind her and tugged her hair to one side, then pushed his fingers through the bars and threaded the cord through the ring on the side of her collar. She pushed aside the panicky impulse to fight him. It wouldn’t get her anywhere. He pulled the cord around the bars, then threaded it though the ring on the other side of her collar.
He pulled the cord snug, tugging her head tight against the bars, making her gasp. Then he tied it.
“You two, get lost. I’ll contact you if I need you.”
The wiry man scowled, then ran his gaze over her naked body one more time before following the driver to the door. When the door closed, Donovan stepped closer behind her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.
“So now we have a little alone time.” His fingers slipped through the bars and he coiled her hair around his fingers. “Have you missed me?”
She refused to play these games.
“What do you want, Donovan?”
He laughed. “What do you think I want?”
Her stomach turned as she felt his hand touch her ribs, then stroke along the side of her breast. It slid downward, then curved over her hip. He pulled her tight to the cage while his fingers slid toward her sex.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him touching her there so she did the only thing she could think of. Slammed her head back against the bars, startling him.
He growled and tugged her hair, pulling her head hard against the cage, then tightened his hand around her throat and squeezed until she started to black out.
Finally, he released her and she gasped for breath.
“If you do something like that again, I’ll punish you by fucking you hard in the ass. Thrusting deep into you. All the while you in that cage. Helpless.”
She said nothing. Just tried to quell the revulsion filling her.
All she wanted was to get out of this cage. Her legs were aching balancing on these crazy shoes, especially with favoring her sore ankle. Having to angle her back so she kept her neck tight against the cage made it all the worse.
With the collar bound tight to the bars, she felt like she was choking.
Donovan walked to the front of the cage and stared at her, his gaze traveling the length of her body.
“But it’s late now. I don’t feel like putting that much effort into it.” He sat down on an easy chair and pulled out his hard cock, then stroked it. He stared at her widened thighs, his gaze locked on her intimate parts. She felt so vulnerable.
His hand moved up and down his erect shaft, his hard gaze on her.
“Are you frightened, slut?”
She refused to answer him.
“Don’t worry, I can see it in your eyes.” He stroked faster. “I can do anything I want to you.” He laughed. “I can beat you. I can make you scream.” He groaned. “I can make you beg me to fuck you.” He stiffened, then his cock erupted with a stream of white fluid.
He leaned
back in the chair, an unsettling smile on his face. Then he stood up.
“I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Disgusted and horrified, she watched him walk across the room. When he reached the hallway, he turned out the light, leaving her in complete darkness.
Oh, God, he was going to leave her standing here in the cage all night?
Her legs were aching already, especially with most of her weight on her right leg because of her twisted ankle. She wished she could sink to the floor and just curl up on the bottom of the cage, but with the tight collar around her neck, she could barely move. If her legs gave out on her … Oh, God, she had to fight back tears.
*
“What do you mean you don’t fucking know where she is?” Steele demanded.
Steele had called Rip a half hour after the previous call for an update.
“I’ve got Killer looking into it, and he’s calling her brother to see if he might have any ideas.”
“That bastard. Donovan must have got his hands on her.”
“Why don’t you stay where you are and call me back in twenty. I might have found out something by then.”
Steele grumbled his agreement.
“We’ll find her,” Rip said.
“We had fucking better.” Steele slammed down the phone.
He grabbed a coffee at an all-night diner. After twenty minutes, he put a coin in the pay phone and dialed Rip’s cell.
“Good news,” Rip said. “It looks like we have a lead. We called his secretary and claimed to have urgent news about a sick relative. She said that he was at a country home for the weekend, though she wasn’t sure which one. The closest one is about two hours from here. Odds are, he took her to that one.”
Steele’s heart raced. “Okay, that’s where we’ll start. Let’s get moving. I’ll meet you there.”
It was the longest couple of hours of Steele’s life as he drove, his gut clenched tight, to meet his crew. He couldn’t stop imagining that asshole Donovan Blake with Laurie. Mauling her. Hurting her. Fucking her.
God damn it. He drove faster than he should and took chances he shouldn’t that night as he raced through the darkness, knowing somehow he would find his woman and save her.