Bend, Don't Break

by Skye Callahan

  Every business dinner included some kind of debauchery along the way. Ross enjoyed spreading the girls out in the middle of the table and forcing sexual acts upon them—or simply opening it up for a free-for-all for everyone involved.

  On Rose’s second night, that girl was her. She looked to me for help, and every time just made Ross more furious and determined. I could claim her as my personal slave, I could give her some level of protection, but the Retreat operated under Ross’ rules. Rule number one, the boss could take any woman whenever and wherever he wanted or even order her to serve someone else.

  Rose was afraid, but not afraid enough, and the insolence continued the next morning as soon as she woke up. I threatened to kill her—to drown her in the bathtub—even though I thought part of her knew I wouldn’t go through with it. Threats to turn her over to the others did far better, but even then, there was no guarantee.

  With all of this in mind, I followed orders and took her down to the play room. It was more of a rat cage, where Ross could sit above, like a mad scientist watching his own warped social experiments. I strapped her to the table, but her mouth continued running. I had to wrap myself up in my role—nipple clamps, hooked up to a small electrical current, the remote control butt plug I’d inserted in the apartments, and a vibrator strapped to her clit would do the trick. I had the remotes to all three and knew they’d work from the room above.

  I left her to be teased and brought to orgasm multiple times while I went upstairs to watch through a window.

  She was in as much pain as pleasure—albeit forced pleasure. And so was I.

  By her second climax, my damn cock bulged against my pants. Aching to be released, so I took one of the other girls—Kat.

  She was trouble—played the part of slave so perfectly that she got nearly everything and every man she wanted.

  The girls were excused away as playthings—powerless. Stripped of everything including their real names. Some of them, it shattered to pieces, some of them adapted and thrived, but Kat adapted and schemed for more. She found her own kind of power in it—and because of that, I knew she could give me exactly what I wanted in the least amount of time necessary.

  I fisted her curly auburn hair. Pulling it tight with frustration and rage as I came in her mouth. Before that point, I’d only done what I had to do.

  Sex was torture in its own way, but I could shut down the part of my brain that cared. I became Kirk, left behind James—his morals, doubts, ideologies.

  It was the only way to survive. I thought if I purposefully left myself behind, fully taking on the new identity, I could do the reverse when it was all over.

  But that was before I was faced with something I wanted to hang on to.

  Every time I had to talk about Silver and my experiences in the Retreat, it brought those feelings to the surface again. If I was supposed to be letting her go, each appointment seemed to be pushing me in the opposite direction.

  I tapped my thumb against my thigh. “Because of Silver, I started to shed that skin too soon. It became personal,” I whispered. My muscles were itching for an escape again, and I glanced toward the clock. “Do you know what it’s like to live every day with something you want to change? Things you could change with just a few words? The abuse, the corruption. Sometimes I refused to hold back, but every time I stepped in to right some wrong, I risked blowing my cover. Maybe I could stop one girl from being hit, but if I died in the process, the bigger situation continued. And wouldn’t be stopped until someone else could find an ‘in’.”

  My superiors had made the decision. I got a small in—the opportunity to take down some of the lackeys, but it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t an organization where any of the lackeys would turn on the leaders. If it was possible to get to the top, and take down the boss—take down the very man who organized all of the retreats—it was possible we might be able to make a difference. We had hoped that the imbalance created in the organization was worth it.

  “So you think you did what needed to be done?”

  “If taking out Milo did what we predicted, then yes.” Unfortunately, I was taken out of the loop as long as I didn’t have clearance to work. Yet another thing removed from my control. “I want my job back.”

  Dr. Combs raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. She had about three looks, and I could never tell what emotion each one indicated. She’d be a hell of a poker player.

  “I don’t like not knowing what’s going on,” I explained. “I did what I could—I did it to the best of my ability. I want to make sure it’s finished.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then I can move on,” I said quietly. I wasn’t a good planner and never had been. I worked best when I had to think on my feet. “I’ll figure that out when I come to it.”

  “You really think you’re ready to return to work?”

  I jumped to my feet again. “I come in here and spill my guts because you said—”

  I looked down at my clenched fists.

  “You’re getting there,” she said. “Anger can be a useful tool, but only when it’s controllable.”

  She closed my file and laid her pen across the folder, clasping her hands together and leaning forward. “I understand your need for control when you feel like everyone is taking it from you—”

  “I’m tired of my own friends not trusting my judgment.”

  “Do you trust your judgment?”

  I didn’t have an answer.

  The question rang in my head long after Trent picked me up. Rather than taking me home, he informed me that there was something he had to attend to at the station and that I was coming along.

  I hadn’t been there in over a year. The last time I’d set foot in the building, I would have never considered myself capable of the things I’d done. And it just meant I’d have more familiar faces to stare into, revealing their disdain or pity.

  Trent already had most of the details. I fed the reports to him while I was on off-site assignments or errands. There weren’t a whole lot of reasons to leave the compound. Unless you wanted a change of scenery and a new variety of food or company—I usually found myself wanting all three, and struggling not to give in to keep from looking too suspicious.

  At the station, I trailed behind as Trent and I navigated the long corridors in back until we got to his desk. All of the walking was a pain, but I was grateful not to have to deal with all of the crowds at the front of the building. Most of the people around were wrapped up in their own cases and barely glanced in our direction. Trent grabbed a few things from his desk, then nodded toward one of the interview rooms.

  “I figure you’re more inclined to tolerate a quiet room and fewer interruptions.”

  “I’m inclined to know why we’re here.”

  But he turned away and pushed open the door anyway, pulling the blinds as I sat down. If I didn’t know Trent, I’d have a sneaking position he was trying to pin something on me, but even knowing him didn’t prevent the knot forming in my chest.

  “You know we captured Milo on the roof of the building.”

  I nodded.

  “He fired on the officers, and they fired back—he was dead before he hit the hospital.”

  “I know all of this—I was a little drugged out, but I know.”

  Trent’s face was flat, with no hint at whatever he was leading up to. “They’re claiming he wasn’t Milo.”

  I straightened and reached for the folder his hand rested on. He pressed his hand down preventing me from taking it.

  I grunted. “You wouldn’t have brought me here and told me anything if you didn’t want my help.”

  “You can’t help. As far as they know, you’re dead, too. Your communications on this case end with the notes I found hidden in your room.”

  The only other reason I could come up with for the meeting was Rose.

  “Bull sh—No,” I said, jumping out of my seat. “You want to bring in Rose. You know I’ll disapprove, but I also know that
nothing I say on the subject matters, so what do you want?”

  “Not Rose,” he said, calmly shaking his head. “There’s no way she could prove he’s Milo—even if he introduced himself to her. They’re claiming that there are a number of people who are known as Milo for security’s sake.”

  “They’re saying not even Ross would have known? Because I assure you whoever that was—Ross wouldn’t treat just anyone like that. I don’t buy it.”

  “We need someone to cooperate who was inside longer than you—someone who might be able to verify whether or not this is a bluff.”

  I scoffed. “Then you want Miles. Have you tried—”

  “He pretty much refuses to talk about anything, his girl....” Trent snapped his fingers as the rolodex in his brain turned. “Alley. She’s kept silent, too.”

  “What do you expect?” I shook my head. “And how the hell am I supposed to help?”

  Trent tilted his head, leaving me to figure it out.

  “He wanted out, but even if he didn’t think I’m dead, he believes I betrayed him.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I trusted him with my life and Rose’s life while we were in there.”

  But it was different now. He knew the truth, and I had the rest of my life to lose.

  “Miles was my friend—if that’s the term you want to use. I’m not even sure anymore—but I can’t guarantee he’ll be open to amicable terms with me and if he spills to the others,” I trailed off not wanting to even imagine how bad it could get if everyone found out about the truth.

  “Seeing your friend come back from the dead could be enough to shock him into talking. As I understand it, he killed Ross to save you and Rose—seems to me he’s not going to throw himself to the wolves now. Word hasn’t gotten out about what he did, so, if worse comes to worse—”

  “Are you considering blackmailing him?”

  “I’m just ensuring that everyone’s best interests are addressed and contingencies are in place.”

  I scowled and jerked the folder away from him, reminding myself that on any other case, under any other circumstances, I would have fully supported the contingency plan. But I felt for Miles—I’d wanted to find a way out for him as well. He’d even spoken of getting out after I had to punish Rose for running. He had the potential of a good man—Alley in particular brought that out in him. I wanted to see something good for the both of them. “Fine, set it up.”

  “Done,” he said, sitting back in his chair with a smug expression on his face.

  That would have already taken some extensive planning—I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere near the prison. It was too big of a risk for someone to see me and put it together. Even with the best of planning, I wasn’t confident that something wouldn’t go wrong with so many inmates involved.

  “He’ll be brought in tomorrow,” Trent said.

  “The others will suspect he’s talking.”

  His smug expression faded. “I didn’t start yesterday. It’s all covered. He’ll be here tomorrow afternoon and no one will be the wiser.”

  I gave him a flat look. He was asking me to jeopardize my currently safe situation, yet he’d jumped to the conclusion that I’d be on board. “What if I hadn’t agreed?”

  “Plan B.”

  “You would have winged it.”

  Trent stretched out his hands, a grin tugging at his features as he laced his fingers behind his head and reclined back. Throwing me to the wolves, and yet he was just as calm as usual.

  “Just like I’ll be winging it tomorrow when I come back from the dead.” I rubbed my hand over my chin, trying to relax my clenched jaw. I envied Trent’s relaxed demeanor, but the prospect of not being on edge felt foreign and outside my realm of possibilities.

  “It will be interesting.”

  Part of me wondered if some sadistic part of Trent just wanted to see the look on Miles’ face. Flipping to the first page of the file, I saw Milo’s pale white face on a slab in the morgue. I knew in the deepest portion of my consciousness that he was the man we’d been gunning for all along. Now we just had to prove it and force their hand.

  They’d operated under the belief that they were invincible. I hoped that meant they didn’t have a contingency plan. “What about the rest of the operation—what’s going on with the other retreats and dealings?”

  “It’s all gone dead silent. If they’re fighting internally, they’re keeping it out of sight.”

  We knew they had the manpower, but we had taken down nearly their entire operation here—not accounting for a few stragglers. “Wouldn’t surprise me. They’re vicious, but tight lipped about getting what they want. They fight dirty—attack when no one is watching, but they’re also all business about it. Reputation and apparent strength are everything.”

  “That’s what I hope. I still find it odd they’re not at least trying to retaliate.”

  “Bluff until we come back for more,” I guessed. “They wouldn’t want anyone to know, so they’re playing it off like a minor stumble—after all, they’re claiming the man we killed wasn’t even in charge. So, why would they bother to make a fuss?”

  “The other operations are out of state, so I don’t have any insider information on any of those investigations—the only reason I’ve been able to maintain it here is you. Like hell I was passing off your handling to some guy who doesn’t know how you work—I don’t care how much experience he had.”

  “We pulled it off.” I snorted.

  “And luckily after a few months the guy who was supervising got off my back and figured the constant babysitting was a waste of his time.”

  It was a damn good thing Trent had fought for his role in the investigation. He had the patience, the knowledge, and the time since he wasn’t double handing the whole thing and trying to keep up with the other operations as well. The moment my handler decided that keeping tabs was a waste of time, I would have been up shit creek.

  Closing the folder, I returned it to Trent—Milo’s dead body was all I was interested in confirming. “Anything else I should know?”

  “Not at the moment. The ball is only staying in our court now because Miles isn’t cooperating with the feds. You still have an in that no one else can match.”

  “Lucky me,” I mumbled.

  “You keep saying that lately.”

  “Trying to convince myself it’s true. Any chance you’re going to release my car from its prison in your garage now?”

  Trent gathered the file and tapped his pen on the table. “Evan is picking you up. I need to stay and work.”

  I groaned but held back the full explosion. “Tomorrow then?”

  “Tomorrow. Hope you didn’t write down the mileage before you left.”

  “As long as she’s tuned up with a full tank of gas.” I’d left the car with Trent not only because I trusted him, but because I knew he’d drive it once in a while and keep it in good condition. I had no idea how long I’d be gone and I didn’t want to return to a leaking car with a tank full of bad gas to deal with. Any extra miles added in the process were an easy concession.

  “Three-quarters.”

  I shook my head and left him to his work, deciding to head out the back and wait for Evan. Although that didn’t make avoiding the looks and questions easier since I still ran into people I knew, most of them at least kept it to a minimum.

  Chapter 5

  Drowning in my Past

  In the middle of the night, I woke covered in sweat, panting for air, and shaking with a mix of nausea and anger.

  I’d dreamed that the girls had followed me home and showed up in my damn bed. Right before I woke, I saw Kat lying next to me. I had rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed, and kissing her so painfully hard I felt my anger at not having Silver rattle me to the pads of my feet.

  I could still see the smirk on her face when I pulled away, realizing what I’d done.

  Flipping out of bed, I tugged on a pair of jeans and T-shirt. My fingers dug into my palms as I
crept down the steps, trying to contain myself long enough to at least get outside where I stood a much smaller chance of waking Jack—or anyone for that matter. I definitely couldn’t handle a kid, but I wasn’t sure I could handle adults at the moment either.

  Unless it was someone who might give me a good excuse—or a remotely acceptable one—to smash something. I was losing my mind and out of control.

  All of the days that I wanted to knock Gabe’s block off were nothing compared to now. That I could live with. His record and attitude gave me a daily reason and no one could tell me he didn’t deserve it.

  This was different—uncontrollable, boiling, to the point that I thought my flesh might combust.

  I dropped to sit on the top stair of the porch, staring out into the cloudy dark sky that perfectly reflected my state of mind. Even in the cool night air, my blood wove a twisted torrent through my body until my nerves hummed and my muscles shook.

  I heard the floor inside the house creak and closed my eyes, climbing to my feet and preparing to escape. A long walk to anywhere.

  “What are you doing?” Evan asked in a hushed voice.

  “I need out—need air.”

  “It’s three in the morning, you can’t just take off walking—especially not....”

  “In my condition? I’m fine.”

  “And you’d say that even if you weren’t. Don’t forget, I’ve known you even longer than Trent has.”

  “I can’t go back to bed. I just need... out,” I repeated when I couldn’t think of another way to phrase it. I did need out—out of my own body and mind before they both collapsed under the strain of one another.

  “Let’s go for a ride then. I’ll drive you wherever you want.”

  Wherever I wanted. I stared at him for a few moments, considering the possibilities of where I wanted to be—only one place came to mind. “Just drive.”

  I wasn’t giving away my destination too soon. I hoped that by the slimmest of slim chances that although Trent might have told Evan who I wasn’t supposed to see, he hadn’t told him where she lived.