by Ally Vance
Sara
It was like an out of body experience. My mind still couldn’t comprehend that someone would do this, but my body was taking charge and sending me into overdrive.
I took off into the direction I was facing. It didn’t occur to me that the road may only be at one side of the property. The only thing I could think of was getting away.
Stupid shit was running through my mind as the low lying branches of the trees were smacking me in my face. My mother constantly lecturing me about walking in groups. Mixing my schedule up. My father trying to get me to take self-defense classes but I was too busy.
The thought even crossed my mind, did I have clean underwear on? That was one of the first things I was taught in childhood. Always wear clean underwear in case you were in an accident. Did this count as an accident? I mean, it shouldn’t, the fucker did this deliberately. And why the fuck am I thinking all this dumbass shit when I need to focus on not getting shot?
I kept running as fast as I could, dodging trees, never really knowing where I was going but determined to get to the road. I ran cross country in high school so I could run long distances. Of course, I didn’t have a lunatic chasing me with a weapon, but I knew to keep running, so that’s what I did.
I swore I could see the paved promise land as the burning sensation tore through my neck. Red liquid splashed over my face. My mind revolted at the thought that it was blood. The next burning sensation in the back of my head came blissfully with darkness as my body flopped on the ground.
Havoc
That was exhilarating. She was quite the athlete. I almost let her make it to the electric fence just to see the look of dejection in her face. It would have lit her up and fried her.
It wasn’t like I could honestly let anyone get away. That would be foolish. A waste of my time, since I spent so much time stalking them.
Dragging her back to the shed to debone her meat, I made an X on the calendar to mark a successful hunt. I averaged two a month. Between the meat from them and the vegetables in my garden, it kept me fed.
My pa taught me not to waste anything. With the bones, I made furniture. I whittled and carved the bones into designs and sold the pieces at the local craft store. It kept my money in my pocket so I didn’t have to dip into my nest egg my dad left me.
Then the next week after a hunt, I would find new prey to stalk.
Chapter Two
Marseille
Sometimes I felt like I’m the only person in the world. I could be in the middle of a crowd and still be all alone.
I never had any siblings growing up, and was kept isolated most of my childhood. My father was always away on business while my mother was always doing charity events. My nanny, Mildred, spent more time with me than anyone else, although she made sure to maintain as much of an emotional distance as she could.
I always wanted to be the center of attention to my parents, or anyone really. Always trying to excel in school to gain their approval, always being a good girl so they wouldn’t be burdened. Except, all that did was make them ignore me more.
Reading books was my getaway. I could escape into other worlds where passion and real families thrived and took care of each other. My guilty pleasure was romance books. I knew I would be mocked if anyone knew, so I would hide them inside my school textbooks.
I’d studied so hard in school, gotten started on a doctorate in psychology, then decided, if being alone was what I would always be, then why not study abroad? Maybe I would find my happily ever after away from here.
My parents were more than happy to pay any price, as long as it didn’t interfere with their plans, so I made plans to attend Oxford University. I would be wrapping things up here at home, then leaving to start my new life. Maybe there I would find someone, anyone, and the romance I so desperately craved that I could make a part of my existence.
Havoc
There was never a plan on who I would pick. I knew the Universe thought certain people were more special than others, and it would guide me to them when I would go out to find my newest acquisition.
My family had always been trackers and hunters. We believed there was a spiritual connection to what you put in your body. My pa taught me all of the skills I needed to live off of the land. To survive, to pass our message on.
When I left to start the five-hour trek to town, I never expected to find the soul I would happen upon, or the ramifications it would have on my entire existence.
Seeing her for the first time, I knew she was perfect. My next choice. She, like so many before her, didn’t seem to be aware of her surroundings at all. She wasn’t focused on any electronics, she simply just seemed to be unaware of everything around her. Or, maybe just not bothered by it. I watched her the entire day, even her two mile walk back to her very large home. She didn’t seem to care for automobiles, using her feet for all of her getting around.
That would help her when I took her, give her a small advantage. Not enough to get away, but enough to feel like she was going to. That last pump of adrenaline, when it kicked in, right before they died, always made the meat taste better.
Marseille
I was going to miss this town. It was quaint, in its own way. Quiet, with small stores that were run by the owners making the experience more personal.
The bookstores were my home away from home when my classes were over. I would read literature all day, everyday, for the rest of my life if I could.
Walking kept me in shape, both in body and mind. Much to my nanny's despair, I never found the need to get my driver’s license. Anywhere I needed to go, I could walk. If it was necessary to go to a further distance, there were cabs I could call, or George, our butler, would offer to take me.
I much preferred the fresh air, no matter the weather or time of day. I was used to being alone, and had walked these roads since I was a young girl. I found the quickest paths to my home, but made sure it was the safest. I wasn’t naïve, but I also knew we lived in a pretty safe neighborhood with a really low crime rate so I didn’t feel the need to be overly cautious by carrying a weapon or anything. That thought made me giggle. I could not even imagine what I would do with a weapon let alone try and defend myself with it.
I only thought of it, because, the town is so small, most of us know each other, at least well enough to nod our heads. However, today I noticed this behemoth of a man glancing at me. He was dreamy. I normally didn’t notice men, not because I was against men, on the contrary, I would love to meet a man, but this area was sparse with single eligible bachelors.
He had an air of authority about him. Military or some sort of work where he would be a commander. His eyes mesmerized me, even though he only glanced at me for a moment. They were a silver blue.
Well, whoever the lucky girl was that he was here to visit, I hope she appreciated him. Girls like me would kill to have a man like that come to see them.
Sighing deeply, I slipped into the coffee shop attached to the bookstore I liked to frequent.
Havoc
She is the one. I feel a strong pull to her. She noticed me. Appraised me. I’m not sure why that made me have a good feeling. Shaking myself out of it, I realized I had only watched her for two days, but I felt ready to take her.
She was different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I never took them this early. I did research on them thoroughly, this one I did not yet have the information back on.
She went into the coffee shop, walked to the counter, received her drink, then went to the book area. She was a reader, that much I had ascertained.
My phone rang. I picked it up, never taking my eyes off of her, “Yeah?”
“Her name is Marseille Canter. She has been accepted to Oxford and plans to leave soon. She has no siblings, mother and father never around,” Perch continued on with his report of her life.
She was leaving? Then the time table needed moved up. Clicking the button in mid-sentence, I hung up the phone, dropping it on the seat. I’m going to ha
ve to improvise and take her tonight. I can’t let her get away. There was something inside of me that needed to own her.
Shaking my head, I try to get control of myself. I don’t know where these thoughts are coming from, but I want this woman more than I have ever wanted anyone.
I thought back to Wren. She was almost my undoing. When I was discharged from the military, I'd served two tours in Iraq. I came home with my depravity in check, and a fellow officer I wanted to make my bride. Foolishly I thought, she would fall in line with the plan of a family, with genes like ours, our children would be strong.
I wanted to raise hunters like myself. Wren didn’t take to being a submissive wife. I’m guessing it was the shackles on her ankles that my father insisted on that pissed her off. I agreed with him, which didn’t make her any happier.
The chain that was attached to the shackles and a pulley hooked to the corner of the room, had enough give that she could easily manage her way through the entire cabin.
Wren was displeased with being locked up. She was displeased that my dad could give her orders as well. Wren was displeased most of the time. I had had to teach her some lessons on how to behave.
Chapter Three
Marseille
Finishing up my coffee, I closed the book I was reading, took it to the register, and checked out. The young girl smiled as she rang me out.
I imagine she felt sorry for me since she knew I spent every evening in here alone. I smiled back, trying to look happy, but knowing I was failing miserably.
Walking outside, I was mildly disappointed the hot guy was gone. It was a new diversion to look at and fantasize he was actually there for me.
Havoc
From my vantage point I saw her leave the shop. Not expecting to take her so soon, I hadn’t brought my usual kit to restrain her.
Improvising was the name of the game.
Marseille
The cool evening breeze on my face always made me feel better. If I could live outside, I would. Thoughts of my travels sprung to mind. First London, then Paris, then I had always wanted to visit Rome. It was such a romantic pla-
The bag thrown over my head stopped me in mid thought. I was confused at first, thinking maybe I ran into a fallen awning or something, since I really didn’t pay attention to where I was going.
When the arms reached around me and flung me over their shoulder, I knew this wasn’t an accident.
A deep timbered voice said, “don’t make a sound or you will regret it. Nod if you understand.” I could feel what felt like the end of a gun poking me from his other hand that wasn’t holding me over his shoulder. What else could I do, but nod? “Good girl,” he praised.
I had so many questions, but wasn’t allowed to ask them. So far, this person hadn’t hurt me, so I was better off to save them, and save my strength to fight later. My guess? This had to be a ransom kidnapping. My mother and father had more money than anyone should ever have.
The joke is on the kidnapper, or me I guess. They didn’t care enough about me to pay to get me back. That realization was when my body started trembling.
Havoc
That went smoother than expected. She was taking direction well. I felt a twinge in my chest. There was something about this girl that made my body have strange reactions.
Shifting her body more comfortably on me, I pulled the lever for my trunk. Usually the girls were knocked out for this, but I wasn’t prepared so she would have to be awake for the ride.
Rolling her in the trunk, there was a small thump, where she tried to move, but ended up hitting her head.
“Get comfortable,” I told her, “we have a long ride and you will be in this trunk for all of it.”
I took the bag off of her head, she squinted, then gasped when she saw me. Glancing around, she saw I was serious, so she situated herself as much as she could, then looked at me with those probing eyes. I could tell she wanted to question me, so I slammed the lid of the trunk down.
She would talk, when I gave her permission to talk.
Marseille
The hot guy really shut me in this trunk. It wasn’t a coincidence I saw him. He was stalking me. How absurdly cruel.
A man like him only lives on the surface of my dreams and he freaking kidnaps me? What a piece of horse shit.
The trunk was small but I tried to find a weapon, like a crowbar or something. Of course there was nothing in there. I remembered hearing that newer cars had trunk releases on the inside.
It was completely dark inside, but I felt my the entire front of me. There was nothing. Just carpet, not even a keyhole. Like it had been bolted there as an afterthought. Son of a bitch made it break away proof.
At this point, all kinds of scenarios were playing out in my head. My internal panic mode was setting alarms off, and I was starting to sweat. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I started beating the inside of the trunk. Music drowned out my voice. I clawed at the carpet that covered the top of the lid until one of my fingernails snapped off. The burn and pain of it was nothing like what I felt inside.
Sobbing, I curled up as much as I could, and cried myself to sleep.
Chapter Four
Havoc
When she started screaming, I turned the radio on. I couldn’t stand hearing her sad. Fuck if I knew why. Usually I feasted on that.
This drive always gave me ample time to think. I would have to keep her alive for at least a couple of weeks. I mean, I had plenty of food still from my last hunt.
If the guys asked, that was how I would justify it since we don’t keep our prey. Not that I had to justify myself, I thought, but the thought still niggled in the back of my mind that yes, I did.
Pulling up to the cabin, I was relieved, and curious. She was definitely docile compared to the other meat I had grabbed. When I poked her in the side with the handle of my screw driver, I could feel her body stiffen.
I wondered if she would test the theory if it was a gun, since she actually hadn’t seen it. She didn’t. She just believed, because in her mind, it felt like what she presumed the firearm would feel like.
Opening the trunk with a small smirk on my face, I couldn’t help but think how serene she looked curled up, sleeping and murmuring something. “Mmm, Prince come here…”
Did she just fucking say Prince?
Marseille
I was having a lovely dream about Prince Charming coming and taking my hand. I could hear myself saying his name. I was right on the edge of consciousness when you are still on the last vestiges of sleep but slowly starting to wake up.
Smiling as drool was sliding down my lip, my eyes started to peep open when I was talking to my knight in shining armor. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times, trying to get my muddled thoughts together.
As I saw my handsome man, I knew I must still be dreaming, so I reached my hand out to him, “There you are Prince Charming.”
An abrupt bark of a laugh made me wake up, and then the truth slammed back into me.
“Prince fucking charming,” he guffawed.
Looking at him, I waited to see what he was going to do. We had a staring contest for what seemed an eternity, but in reality was probably only a few minutes.
He reached down unceremoniously, wrapped his beefy arm around me, then picked me up like I was a sack of potatoes.
“I know how to walk,” I said sullenly.
“I know, I’ve watched you,” he grunted.
“What? For how long?” I demanded.
A resounding slap sounded on my ass. The sound was louder than the pain. Now I knew what the expression meant when someone said it really smarts when they were in pain. It wasn’t horrendous, but it was a quick holy shit moment. My Oh was all the reaction he got. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it.
“Was that my cue to shut up?” I enquired.
He stopped, threw me on the ground, jerked me up by my neck, then looked me in the eye.
“You talk a lot,” he said. “If you talk without
permission, you will be punished. Harshly.” He emphasized this by yanking my arm and practically dragging me the rest of the way to the cabin.
“Not by a spanking though. You obviously liked that,” he said as an afterthought.
Havoc
I could see the disgust on her face when I mentioned her liking having her ass hit. It seemed my little captive didn’t know she was a sub. Now I felt almost responsible to train her. Besides, I tried to make myself think I was being practical, there really wasn’t any other options for childbearing.
Originally when our fathers started this lifestyle, no one thought of the long term. Then it was decided that the daughters could be wives of the men so that way everyone had a duty.
Unfortunately, there were more men then women. Which was why Wren seemed to be his perfect mate. Until she wasn’t.
I treated her with all the respect any wife deserved. Not any more, not any less. I only asked she respect our way of life, and bear my children. Why that was such a hardship on her, I will never know. She should’ve viewed it as the honor it was.
The morning I woke up to shouting, my heart sank when I saw my father lying on top of her, holding her down, covered in blood, struggling to get a knife out of her hand.
Not knowing the whole situation, I rushed over to wrestle the knife from her hand. My father was able to untangle himself once I had the weapon.
I looked at them both, not sure if she attacked him or if he attacked her. Glancing at her dog box I had made her sleep in the past month, I saw she had figured out how to get the screw out of the top of the box as it was sitting askew on its side.