Shattered Hearts: A Dark Romance (Bad Blood Book 1)

by Marissa Farrar

  Red spots marked my skin from where the prongs had embedded into my muscles, and tiny holes were in my shirt where they’d punched through. It didn’t hurt too badly, though my muscles still felt stiff. Then again, they’d already felt stiff from my time spent tied up in a bag in the trunk of a car, so what was a little more? Worse than any physical injury was the impact it had on my emotions.

  Hopelessness washed through me, and I gave in to tears as I crawled across the floor and onto the bed. How was I supposed to have known she was armed? The Taser had done its job, though. There was no way I was going to risk that happening again. It had been the worst feeling, physically, that I’d ever gone through.

  Chapter Nine

  “Goddammit.”

  I punched the side of my fist against the desk.

  Though I’d provided Loretta with the Taser, I hadn’t expected her to use it quite this early on. But it seemed Jolie had some fight about her. Maybe it was a good thing she’d been put in her place now rather than needing to at a later date, but I still hadn’t liked seeing her go rigid on the floor.

  No. She deserved everything she got. I had to remember that.

  She hadn’t eaten any of her food either. I’d expected that, but it still bothered me for some reason.

  Staring at the screen, I rubbed my fingers across my lips. I was going to need to go down there soon and get this thing started. I was surprised she hadn’t guessed yet about the reason this was happening to her. She was at college and was clearly bright, and, considering our first introduction to one another—that she was aware of, anyway—I’d thought she’d have figured it out. But no, she seemed to be hung up on the sex slave thing. Maybe I was thinking too much like a man. Was sex trafficking a very real threat to women? I could see how a woman like her—petite, beautiful face, with a killer body—would feel vulnerable to men wanting to use her like that.

  My thoughts went back to what I’d done in the shower, and shame poured over me in a rush of heat. I had never intended to think of her that way. Of course, I’d known what she looked like, but something about being physically present around her, and seeing her so vulnerable and completely at my mercy had done something to me. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like it.

  Giving her a little time to recuperate from the shock, I figured I’d go for a swim. I’d already been up at first light, despite only having had a couple of hours sleep, to manage some of my portfolios, so I could afford to take a break. I’d always had a head for the stock market. When, at eighteen, I’d been allowed access to my inheritance, it was the first thing I invested in. The rate at which I’d made the money double, triple, even quadruple, had become addictive. Sure, there were times when I lost, but the times I won far outweighed them. Everything I owned now came from the spoils, though I wasn’t ready to give up work anytime soon. Like I said, it was addictive.

  Morning had dawned bright and warm. I was thankful we were out of peak summertime now. Fall was my favorite season here—warm days and cooler nights. It was preferable to the constant sweltering heat of the summer, even though I was able to escape inside the air-conditioned house.

  In the pool house, I quickly changed from my shirt and pants into my swim shorts. At the water’s edge, I dived in, the liquid like cool silk around my body. I swam front crawl from one end to the other, dipping beneath to turn myself around on the wall and swim back again. Length after length, I kept going until my heart was beating hard and I was gasping for breath. I knew what I was doing—trying to physically exhaust myself before I went near her again. If I was tired enough, maybe those thoughts of what she would feel like naked, impaled on my cock and writhing under my tongue would stay out of my head.

  Even in the cold water, blood rushed to my cock in a tingle of arousal.

  Fuck. I’d done it again.

  This was going to be difficult if I got a raging hard-on every time I thought of the girl, especially as with the erection came a wave of disgust at myself. And it wasn’t even disgust that I was fantasizing over a girl I’d kidnapped. No, my disgust had nothing to do with what I’d done, and who I was, but everything to do with her.

  I hauled myself out of the pool, my muscles bulging beneath my wet skin. I shook off my wet hair like a dog then grabbed the towel I’d left out for myself. I’d dry quickly enough in the sun, but I wasn’t going to lie around. I needed to get this over and done with.

  With my skin dry, I dressed back in my shirt and pants. I’d raised my metabolism with the swim, and, still feeling clammy and hot, I undid the sleeve buttons of my shirt and rolled up the arms. I was in my home and could theoretically wear whatever the hell I wanted, but I believed a man should dress for the job, even if no one else was going to see him. I wasn’t about to laze around my house looking like a bum.

  My limbs felt lighter after my swim, and a hollow spot appeared in my stomach. It was almost lunchtime. The girl hadn’t been given breakfast as she’d refused the meal when she’d arrived, but the rules were that I offered her lunch.

  I stopped by the kitchen to see what Loretta was preparing. She stood with her back to me, chopping salad on a board. I walked up behind her and peered over her shoulder.

  “What have we got?”

  “Tuna niçoise salad,” she replied.

  “With fresh tuna, I hope. None of that canned crap.”

  “Would I feed you canned crap?” she said, and then added, “Sir.”

  I chuckled. “Of course not.”

  I’d felt a little pissed at Loretta for Tasing Jolie at first, but I knew my reactions weren’t rational. I’d given Loretta the Taser, after all, and told her to use it if the girl tried to escape. That was exactly what had happened, so I couldn’t blame her.

  Even so, I had to wash away that final tang of bitterness with a long, cold drink of chilled mineral water from the dispenser. Did I feel as though no one else should hurt her? Only me? Not that my intention was to hurt her, but if she forced my hand...

  Loretta had prepared the same meal for Jolie as she had for me, though my meal was in a porcelain bowl where hers was in a plastic one. Loretta moved to place both bowls on a tray and pick it up, but I stepped in, taking them from her.

  “That’ll be all, Loretta. Take your lunch break early.”

  She ducked her head. “Thank you, sir.”

  “And, Loretta, make sure we’re not disturbed.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I carried the tray out into the hallway to where the elevator was located beneath the stairs. Balancing the tray on one hand, I took my keycard out of my pocket and swiped it against the control panel. Within seconds, the doors opened, and I stepped inside.

  I took a shaky breath as I descended into the bowels of my property. It was stupid to be nervous to see her. I wasn’t nervous about anything—even putting a million dollars on startup stocks that may go bust within a couple of months—but for some reason she made me nervous.

  The doors parted, and I braced myself for the possibility she’d rush at me and try to escape again, but all was calm.

  She was sitting at the furthest point of her bed, her back pressed up against the headboard, her arms wrapped around her knees. She lifted her face to look at me as I stepped through, and I could see right away that she’d been crying. Something in my chest tightened, but I pushed away any compassion I felt. There was no room for that in what I had planned.

  “I brought you lunch,” I told her.

  She eyed the two bowls. “Am I expecting someone?”

  “I thought I’d eat with you.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged and settled the tray down in the same place Loretta had put the sandwiches when we’d arrived. “Because I also haven’t eaten, and people normally eat together in this situation.”

  She gave a bark of laughter. “This situation? You mean a kidnapper usually eats lunch with his victim.”

  “I meant people normally eat together when they’re hungry.”

  “Who said I was hun
gry?”

  “If you don’t eat lunch, Jolie, then you won’t be given dinner either, which means you won’t get to eat the entire day.”

  She turned her face from me. “As if I care.”

  I sat down and took a bite of a green bean, cooked, but with a crunch, and then a black olive, with its faint disinfectant taste, and the salty tuna. It had only been seared on the outside, and so had been sliced instead of flaked, and was delicious. Loretta knew how to cook.

  Jolie glanced back at me, and I felt her watch my every bite, her gaze trained on my mouth, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips. There was something insanely sexy about the act, and I had to force myself to focus on the food.

  I chewed and swallowed. “You will care when you’re too exhausted to even move and you’re wasting away. Do you really think you’ll stand a chance of escaping in that sort of condition?”

  She scowled at me, but her lips twisted as she thought. “Why do you care? You should want me that way. Your... housemaid... certainly didn’t want me to escape.”

  I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. Truth be told, I didn’t know why I did care. I didn’t want her to escape either, but for some reason I did want her to eat her food.

  Looking at me as though I was a wild animal who might suddenly lash out and bite, she crawled across the bed, then crept her hand out and snatched up the plastic bowl.

  “Here.” I handed her the plastic fork to go with it.

  Her gaze dropped to the white prongs.

  “And don’t get any stupid ideas,” I warned her. I didn’t think she could do too much damage with a plastic fork, but she could probably take an eye out if she tried.

  “This looks good,” she muttered, and then tucked in, shoveling forkfuls of chopped tomato, olives, egg, and seared tuna into her mouth. She might have claimed she wasn’t hungry, but her actions told me otherwise.

  I hid a smile and continued to eat as well. It was a strange kind of companionable silence as we both finished our meals. I tried not to let her notice me watching, but my gaze was fixed on every movement of those plump, pink lips. Every time her tongue flicked out, my cock reacted. Each time she swiped a morsel of food away with her fingers, my balls throbbed. She was stunningly beautiful with those wide blue eyes and elfin features.

  I hated that.

  With both bowls empty, I took hers out of her hands, making sure to take the plastic cutlery as well, and carried them over to the desk. This was the part she wasn’t going to like, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

  It was the whole reason I’d brought her here.

  Chapter Ten

  The food immediately revitalized me.

  Maybe I should have been thankful I wasn’t being forced to live on stale bread and dirty water, but it was hard to be thankful when you’d had your freedom taken away and had just been stunned by a fifty-year-old housekeeper.

  Hayden set the empty bowls down then turned back to me. The look in his eyes told me his little visit wasn’t over, and my stomach churned.

  Was this the moment? Was it now that he’d tell me he wanted to test the goods he had to sell, and pushed me back on the bed, yanked off my jeans and underwear, and forced his cock inside me? I hated that the idea caused my core to clench. It didn’t matter that he looked like something out of a magazine, and that his dark hair was a little damp, and he smelled clean and faintly of chlorine. He was a kidnapper and quite possibly a people smuggler, and I didn’t want to think about the hard, muscular body beneath his shirt or the way his lower lip had a faint line down the middle, making it appear even fuller than it already was.

  But, to my surprise, he pulled a phone out of his pocket.

  A cell phone!

  My heart lurched. Would he let me make a call home, just to let everyone know I was alive? Even if he wouldn’t, the thought of being in such proximity to a cell phone made me sense freedom. All I needed to do was get my hands on it.

  But he must have picked up on my thoughts.

  He shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. You won’t stand a chance of getting hold of this phone.”

  Any softening I’d experience toward him after the delicious meal evaporated.

  “What have you got it for then?” I snapped.

  “I need photographs.”

  “What of?” It was a stupid question.

  “Of you, of course.”

  “Why? So you can use them to sell me?” I fully expected him to tell me to take my clothes off right then. If I was going to be sold to the sex trade, they’d want to see the goods.

  But lines appeared on his brow. “Sell you?”

  “Yes. Isn’t that what all this is about? I’m about to be sold to the sex trade.”

  The frown deepened, and he looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. I thought that was rich considering he was the one who’d kidnapped me in the first place.

  “No. I don’t intend on selling you. And I certainly don’t plan on letting another man have sex with you.”

  I lifted my eyebrows, acting cockier than I felt. Inwardly, my mind blurred with fear, and nausea swirled in my gut. “Another man? Another man other than yourself, you mean?”

  “That wasn’t what I said,” he replied, but color bloomed in his cheeks, and his gaze slid away. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say it, but that was what he was thinking. Was he one of these men who was good at lying to themselves? Did he think for some reason that he’d done the right thing by kidnapping me, and he was really the good guy in all of this? Was that what the delicious food was about, so he could tell himself he was treating me well, even as he held me down by the throat and raped me?

  I suddenly felt sick, the tuna and tomatoes churning in my stomach.

  Hayden cleared his throat and moved his attention back down to the phone.

  “Go and stand over by the wall,” he instructed.

  “Why?” I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Because I told you to. Don’t force my hand, Jolie. I don’t want to have to punish you for not behaving, but if you won’t do what you’re told, you’ll leave me with no choice.”

  A shiver wracked through me at the possibility of being punished. I still ached from the Taser, and I didn’t want to go through any more pain right now. Just the thought of being shocked again sent my heart pitter-pattering.

  But something in his eyes told me that he wasn’t thinking of that kind of punishment. Outwardly, perhaps, but deep down he wanted to punish in a whole different way. My insides twisted at the thought, and my nipples tightened. I hated my body’s reaction to the possibility. The man was a psychopath, and it didn’t matter how attractive he was or how much money he had, nothing changed that.

  Not wanting to risk his wrath, I slid off the bed and moved over to the wall he’d nodded toward. Sullenly, I stood against it, my fists clenched by my sides. I was still waiting for him to give me some instruction—most likely to unbutton my shirt—but instead he lifted the phone, and I squinted as the flash went off in my face.

  He checked the screen and nodded. “That will do.”

  Confusion washed over me. Was that it? “What are you going to do with the picture?”

  “I’m sending it to someone. It’ll need to be printed first, and a message put with it, but then it’ll be sent to the person it’s intended for.”

  My thoughts went to my aunt. “If you’re trying to ask ransom money from Aunt Jeanette, you’re wasting your time. She doesn’t have anything.”

  Was that how he’d made all this money to buy private planes and islands? By kidnapping and ransoming people? It seemed like a crazy way to live.

  But my confusion was reflected in his expression. “Your aunt? No, why would I ask money from your aunt? I don’t need money.”

  Tears of frustration burned my eyes. “Then why are you doing this?”

  He gave me a cold glare, every spark of interest and empathy gone from his green gaze. “Revenge.”


  And with that, he turned and left, picking up the empty bowls as he went, and swiping the card for the elevator, before vanishing from view.

  My legs trembled beneath me, my head spinning. Revenge? Revenge on me?

  Pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. The first time I’d seen him was when I’d done my talk at the university. That was also the same night he’d taken me. Did this have to do with my father? The possibility coiled like a thick, cold snake in the pit of my belly. Had my father gotten involved in something in prison and when one of the other criminals got out, they’d decided to use me to get back at him? It would make sense that Hayden was some kind of criminal. For one, I knew he was capable of breaking the law by the fact he’d taken me and was holding me against my will, but it also explained where all the money had come from.

  Fuck.

  Anger rose inside me and lashed its tail. Fuck my father! How many times was he going to come into my life and screw everything up? Just when I thought I’d finally started getting my life straight, he goes and does something in prison that puts a target on my back. I was shaking hard, my limbs barely feeling like they belonged to me. I needed to sit down, or I was going to fall down.

  Who was Hayden, really? Was he the one who’d recently gotten out of prison, or was he working for someone else even higher up the chain? Was he Mafia, or some other form of organized criminal?

  I was suddenly even more frightened for my life than I’d been when I’d believed I was about to be sold into the sex trade. If he was using me to get revenge on my father, it wasn’t going to stop with a photograph to prove he had me. No, he’d probably start removing body parts and sending those to him as well.

  My only hope was that the prison would be able to use the letters to try to find my whereabouts. These criminal minds were smart, and they most likely wouldn’t photograph anything that could be placed or mail the letter from somewhere that could be traced, but I had to give myself some form of hope. I thought I might go crazy otherwise.