Forced

by Daniella Wright

  “More,” she demanded, “more.”

  “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he promised, breathing heavily against her skin. He trailed kisses down over her collarbone, nipping her lightly. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging on it in her thirst for him. They made love with reckless abandon. It was the type of lovemaking that occurs after near-death experiences, when all of the passion is fiery, and all-consuming.

  ~*~

  After, entwined in the sheets, they realized that they were starving. Kyle pulled on his clothes and went to grab a pizza from the restaurant that was next to the motel. While he was gone, Laney stood in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her swollen lip was bleeding a little after her passionate endeavors. She covered a bruise on her cheek with a hand, imagining it gone. Her skin was flushed a pink color. She smiled at herself, and walked back into the room, picking up her t-shirt off of the bed, and pulling it on. She located her panties on the floor where Kyle had dropped them. She pulled those on, as well.

  Kyle returned shortly, pizza in hand.

  “I hope the lady likes pepperoni,” he said, smiling.

  “Yes,” Laney replied, her stomach rumbling. Kyle opened the cardboard box; the smell was heady and delicious. As they dug in, sitting on the bed cross-legged and looking at each other over the pizza box, Kyle cleared his throat.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” he said, looking at her intently.

  “Not much to say,” Laney began with a sigh. “I’ve been in countless foster families…don’t recall my original one. Phased out of the system at eighteen, and then I’ve been living with my criminal, abusive, older boyfriend until last night, when my residence was the hospital.”

  “Wait, you were in the hospital?”

  “Yeah…fractured rib,” she said.

  “You should have told me,” he said, a haunted look on his face.

  “It was worth the pain,” Laney said, and changed the subject. “So, what will you do now?”

  “Get out of the city,” he said. “Hopefully find another family of dragon shifters, preferably somewhere with a lot of space to run and a lot of room to hide from the hunters.”

  “Me too. My dream has always been to have my own home outside of the city,” Laney said, swallowing a bite of pizza. “Somewhere that I can see the sky and do some gardening.” Kyle leaned back, propped up on his hands. He arched his eyebrow.

  “That’s rather poetic for a foster kid.”

  “In one of my foster homes, one of the good ones, the foster mother did a lot of gardening,” she explained. “It was therapeutic for us kids, so she encouraged us to participate, giving each of us a job to do in the garden. We would grow flowers, and vegetables out on the rooftop of their apartment building. It was one of my favorite places.”

  “Why did you have to leave?”

  “The foster mother was placed in a nursing home by her family,” Laney looked away from him. “They believed she was too old to be living on her own and raising kids.”

  "How long will you stay here?" She asked. "I know it's not safe for you."

  "I'm not leaving yet, ” he replied. They finished eating in silence, and Kyle got up, placing the cardboard box on the dingy table. Laney got under the rucked up covers, where Kyle joined her. He got on his side beside her, and reached for her.

  “Come here,” he said, and she happily curled up facing him, her head resting on his shoulder. Kyle fell asleep quickly, exhausted from his experience. Laney listened as his breathing softened.

  ~*~

  After a solid night’s sleep, Kyle looked remarkably better. They spent the morning in bed, deciding to remain at the motel another night.

  “We should lay low,” Kyle said, pulling his clothes back on. “I’ll go and pay for tonight.” He left the room. Laney could feel worry, pooling in her stomach, but she didn’t want this honeymoon-like period with Kyle to end. Lance had endless resources at his disposal, and although this was nestled in rival territory, those rivals might be willing to let Lance retrieve what he believed to be rightfully his in exchange for some concessions.

  When Kyle returned, he carried takeout containers with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast from the restaurant beside the motel. They ate, and then spent the day watching the television and messing around. Laney reassured herself that she needed this day to recuperate, her injuries healing.

  As the sun sank, Kyle stood up from the bed, pulling the rumpled sheets off of the floor. He tucked them around Laney as he kissed her cheek.

  “I have to go,” he said. Laney’s heart sank.

  “Oh,” she said sadly. “Okay. I understand.”

  “Oh, no, darling,” he replied. “I just need to go out for a little while. I’ll be back.” He kissed the tip of her nose, and she laughed, her heart lightened at the thought of his return. He finished dressing, and then kissed her on the lips, waving behind him as he left.

  Laney got up, walking into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and got in, letting the hot water soothe her injuries. She peeled the wax paper off of a bar of soap, tenderly cleaning her skin. She used the tiny bottle of shampoo, covering her hair in suds, and letting them rinse out. Climbing out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel.

  She wiped off the mirror with a hand, inspecting the cut on her lip. The cut had sealed, leaving a dark spot on her lip. It was bruised purple. If left alone, in a few days it would turn a horrible shade of yellow.

  Laney went back into the room, opening her duffle bag and pulling out a change of clothes. She had taken only what she could while fleeing Lance’s in order to get to the hospital. She had a pair of sweat pants and a black cami that looked attractive. She pulled on a pair of black lace panties and a leopard-print bra that drew attention to her cleavage. The one advantage to Lance was that he gave her basically unlimited funds for clothes. She realized now, of course, that that was no reason to stay with someone who beat the pulp out of you periodically.

  She watched the television, putting on one of the movie channels. It was playing a high-octane car chase film. She loved those. She watched that one, and then the sequel to it, which came on as soon as the first ended. About halfway through the second film, Kyle returned.

  Laney gasped. His clothes were torn, dirty, and splattered with blood. He had various cuts and bruises, which seemed to be healing as she looked on. In his hand, there was a wad of cash, and he was counting it, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

  “Where were you?” she asked, feeling her eyes widen in shock and concern.

  “I was just out…earning some money,” he replied in his even tone. “Everything is fine.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  “It doesn’t look fine,” she grumbled, finding that she couldn’t remain angry at him. Over the next week, he kept convincing her to stay. She would never leave the room, but Kyle went out to get food, or wherever he went to get beaten up and paid for it. She would beg him not to go, but he would, returning with extensive injuries that healed as she watched, concerned. She wanted to know what he was doing, and where he was going, yet a part of her knew the answer.

  When he returned the second time, she approached it head on. When the door opened and he walked in, she shut off the television, which she had been watching, her stomach in nervous knots. She found that she couldn’t look at him as she spoke.

  “You’ve been going to underground fights, haven’t you?” She listened as he exhaled sharply, wondering what emotion he was going through at the moment.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “My ex, the one who abused me? He runs those,” she said. “If you’re going to continue to go to them, then I need to get out of here because you are going to lead him straight to me.” Kyle sat down on the bed beside her.

  “I know. I just have to do this one last fight on the circuit,” he said. “The money that I make from this payout will be enough to get both of us out and somewhere that we can live our dreams. That house you wante
d? With the garden?” She looked at him warily, seeing the hope that lit his face.

  “I can buy that house with the money that I would make from this one last fight,” he said, reaching out and touching her face.

  “I don’t want you to do it,” she said.

  “I have to,” he replied.

  “Please don’t,” she begged.

  “Just this last one,” he promised. “And then I’m out.”

  “How much?” her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

  “Fifty grand,” he said. She shook her head, knowing that Lance would never part with that much money. Fear began to permeate through her skin like electricity. Lance was targeting Kyle, and she wanted to know why.

  “Let’s go now,” she said urgently, taking his face in her hands. “Just leave the city with what we have.”

  “No no no,” Kyle replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

  “Yes, we’ll go now. We have enough for two bus tickets out,” she said desperately, her hands shaking. She looked him in the eyes, willing him to change his mind. “We don’t need any more money.”

  “We do,” he said, taking her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m doing this for us. For our future. Just think—a house. With a garden. In the country.” Laney found herself crying. She was trapped by Lance, yet again.

  “No, he won’t let us go,” she sobbed.

  “I’ve been in this game for a long time,” he insisted. “Just one and done. I promise.” She buried her face in to his chest, inhaling his scent. She knew that she needed to convince him otherwise, but did not know how.

  ~*~

  Laney picked up the motel phone, dialing the one number that she had memorized. When the person picked up, a bright female voice saying:

  “Hello?” Laney whispered into the phone:

  “Meet me at the rendezvous spot,” and then she hung up the receiver, silently placing it on to the cradle. She looked at the bed, where Kyle lay fast asleep. She scribbled a hasty note to him, telling him that she had an urgent errand to attend to, and would meet him back here.

  Pulling her jean jacket on over her cami and a pair of yoga pants, Laney left the motel, walking quickly down the city sidewalks. She pulled on a pair of designer sunglasses that Lance had given her. She couldn’t wait to get out of the city and get a job so that she could buy clothes and things that had no connection to her violent ex-boyfriend. She sighed deeply, walking quickly.

  She found herself soon in the downtown area, where she boarded the subway. She headed for the central business district, getting off on Canal Street, and walking a few blocks from the subway exit. She glanced behind her casually, checking to see if anyone was following her. She looped around the block, pretending to window shop as she watched the passersby in the glass of the storefront windows. Satisfied that she hadn’t been followed, she returned to Canal Street, entering a bright, airy café. At a back table, she saw a woman wearing a pair of dark Chanel sunglasses. She was dressed in a simple black sheath dress, and fit in with the other customers well. She was sipping a latte from a large ceramic cup, the foam sticking to her perfect red lipstick. She was blonde, with a pixie cut, and she smiled when she saw Laney. Laney walked over carefully, attempting not to draw unwanted attention.

  “Meg,” she said. Meg Davis, Laney’s best friend and cousin to Laney’s ex, stood, giving Laney a hug. They sat down at the table, where Laney’s place already had a latte and a croissant sitting at it.

  “I ordered for you already,” Meg said.

  “Thanks, I haven’t eaten yet today,” Laney replied.

  “Sure,” Meg said, keeping her voice in a hushed tone. “So, why are you still in the city?”

  “I haven’t been able to get out. Dan was at the bus station, so I’ve been hiding out in rival gang territory. I won’t tell you which.”

  “Much appreciated. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Meg cocked an eyebrow. “I’m already walking a tight line with my cousin for bringing you to the hospital.”

  “Thank you so much for that, by the way.”

  Meg leaned forward, placing a hand on Laney’s forearm. She squeezed it comfortingly.

  “I would do anything to help you, my dear.” Laney nodded, her throat choked with grateful tears. She sighed, swallowing them back. “But you need to get out of town. Stat.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Meg asked. “I can get you safely to a bus station right away.”

  “I have a new boyfriend,” Laney explained. “He’s sweet. But he is insisting on doing a fight tonight. Lance’s promised him fifty grand.”

  “There’s no way he’s going to get it.” Meg paused for a second. “Do you think Lance knows about you and this guy?”

  “I have no way of knowing.”

  “Hm. It’s a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Seriously.”

  “As far as I know, Lance has gotten himself involved in some black market animal trafficking trade,” Meg said, taking a sip of her drink. “It is an animal that can only be contained by this strange, woven metal collar. It has these weird patterns on it. It’s super heavy.”

  “I’ve seen one,” Laney said.

  “What’s it for?”

  “Dragons.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I’m not, Mi,” she said. “You have to tell me where this fight is being held.”

  “How does this have anything to do with dragons?”

  “My new boyfriend?” Laney said. “He’s a dragon shifter.” She watched her friend’s mouth drop open in shock.

  “Well, great—he can get you out of the city.”

  “He wants to fight for the fifty grand.” Meg shook her head.

  “Men can be so bull-headed.”

  “You have no idea what it’s like when they’re dragon-headed.”

  “Bet that’s hot,” Meg said, making Laney laugh. “I’ll tell you where the fight is being held. He’s definitely going to need backup.”

  Laney walked as quickly as she felt was safe back to the motel. She stood fidgeting in the elevator, coming up with the best way to tell Kyle about going to see Meg. When the elevator doors slid open on their floor, she walked rapidly down the hallway, her hands shaking a little as she stuck the key into the lock. She pushed the door open and Kyle stormed across the room. His face was full of fury, and Laney stepped back into the hallway.

  “Where were you?”

  “I needed to get more information,” Laney explained, feeling unsure. She had never seen Kyle angry before.

  “At what cost? Did anyone follow you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He stood down, rubbing his chin. His brows were furrowed. He walked over toward her, and she flinched. He paused, taken aback and then pulled her gently into a hug.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said. Laney nodded. She looked up and into his face. He leaned down, kissing her, deeply. Placing her hands around his neck, she let him take her over to the bed, where he began to undress her. Worked to unbutton and then unzip his jeans, returning his kisses passionately. He guided her gently, until she was on her back, and he trailed kisses along her jawline, stopping to nip the lobe of her ear. She inhaled sharply, feeling herself respond to the heady sensations of being near to him.

  He paused before entering her, looking her in the eye, asking her permission. She smiled and nodded. He knew exactly what she needed—to feel that she had her power back—power that Lance had taken from her. He made love to her gently, slowly, drawing it out luxuriously. Laney was left feeling completed, and sleepy. She curled up beside him, drifting off to sleep.

  Laney awoke from a deep sleep to find herself alone in the room. She looked around, and then her gaze fell upon the bedside table. There was a note, scribbled on the back of her own note that she had left for Kyle earlier.

  On my way to the fight. Wait for me here. When I retu
rn, we will go and find our dream house, together. Love, Kyle.

  Laney’s heart sunk in fear. Kyle was walking right into Lance’s trap. She fought back tears, choosing instead to hold her head high. She was going to go to that fight and save Kyle, even if that meant facing Lance and his abuse.

  ~*~

  The docks by the river were redolent of the sound of gulls and the deep lowing of freighter horns. The warehouse that Meg had told her of was made of corrugated metal, painted the deep crimson of Lance’s shell company that had been created as a front for his black market dealings. She had a switchblade in her high-heeled boot, which she had kept in her duffle. It made her feel better to at least have a weapon, despite its smallness.

  She could hear the sounds of voices inside of the warehouse. Two large men stood at the door. They were dressed in plain black t-shirts, and dark gray slacks. They were well-muscled and enormous; people who would cow a grown man. The one to the left looked her up and down, the slow speed of his action making her feel violated. She fought the urge to tug on the hem of her short black dress. She wished that she was wearing clothing that covered her, but she needed for Lance to believe that she was coming to reconcile.

  “Password?” he asked, a dangerous grin spreading across his face lasciviously. Laney fought the urge to gag with revulsion.

  “Flakka,” she said, naming the rather nasty drug that Lance’s twisted sense of humor found to be entertaining to feed to his fighters before sending them into the ring.

  “That one,” he said, “Is rather expired, missy.”

  “But—” Laney began as the other bouncer turned, frowning. Surprise spread across the man’s features as he recognized her.

  “Laney.” He smiled dangerously. “Lance has been looking everywhere for your hide. I’d hate to be there when he tans it.” He reached out, grabbing Laney roughly by the shoulder, but before he could drag her off, Laney yelled out.