Bleeding Hearts: A Dark Captive Romance (Heartbreaker Book 1)

by Stella Hart

“Could’ve fooled me. She was always popping pills when she worked here.”

  “She had a prescription for them. She had a medical condition.”

  Foley waved his hand. “It still doesn’t warrant our attention. It’s a police matter, and if we thought otherwise, we would’ve asked you to look into it.”

  Dwyer shifted uncomfortably. I knew he thought Foley was a prick, same as me. He didn’t say anything, though.

  I held up a hand. “Look, sir, the main reason I told her friend I’d look into it is because she believes there’s actually a link between the Heartbreaker murders and Celeste’s disappearance. So it is actually relevant to my assignment, in a way.”

  Dwyer’s eyes widened. Foley simply burst out laughing. “A link between her and him? You must be joking.”

  “I thought the same at first, but it’s actually not that far-fetched. She saw him when she was a child. She’s the only person to have ever seen him while he was killing and survived, as far as we know.”

  Foley rolled his eyes. “Yes, but she was six, and she didn’t remember anything useful.”

  “See, that’s the thing. Her friend said she was starting to remember something recently. She’s worried it was about the Heartbreaker’s identity, and that he may have kidnapped her as a result.”

  Foley narrowed his eyes. “I sincerely doubt Celeste remembers a thing about that day, other than what she already told us as a child,” he began. “And even if she did, are we seriously supposed to believe that a serial killer has been keeping tabs on her all this time, checking constantly to see if she ever happens to remember his face?”

  “Yes. And he may have taken her. If he did, we could theoretically track him,” I said, voicing an idea that’d been kicking around in my mind over the last few days.

  Dwyer finally piped up. “How so?”

  “He’s usually very careful, but he probably thinks we’d never suspect that he’s responsible for her disappearance. So he might’ve dropped his guard slightly if and when he took her; not been as meticulous. That means there could be some evidence to help track her down from where she was taken. So if we look into that and find where she ended up, we might find him too.” Even if she’s already dead, I added silently, hoping that wasn’t the case.

  Foley snorted. “Makes a nice theory for a B-grade crime thriller, but the most likely explanation for Celeste vanishing is that she ran away or killed herself. It’s very tragic, but like I said, it’s a police matter. You will drop this search for her, Agent West, and you will return to your assigned duties and only your assigned duties. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.” Fuck you, sir.

  His icy eyes narrowed, as if he could read my thoughts. “Get out.”

  I turned on my heel and strode out of his office, seething. Yes, it was a far-fetched theory, but for Foley to just dismiss it outright and act like Celeste was some sort of runaway junkie was disturbing to say the least. He’d always been an abrasive prick, so it wasn’t exactly shocking that he would react in a negative manner to finding out that I was secretly working on something other than my assignment, but this was next level assholery even for him.

  His attitude only made me want to focus on Celeste’s disappearance even more.

  “Agent West.”

  I turned at the sound of my name to see ASAC Dwyer heading toward my desk. “Yes, sir?” I raised my brows, half expecting to be chewed out again.

  He approached me and stood close, looking around first to make sure no one was watching us. “Do you really think there might be some link between the Heartbreaker and Celeste Riley’s disappearance? You think she might be alive and with him?” he asked in a low voice.

  I nodded. “Yes.” I outlined everything I knew so far—which wasn’t much, admittedly—and when I was done, I finished with, “So if there’s even the smallest chance they are linked, then I believe we should be investigating it.”

  Dwyer nodded. “I completely agree.”

  My brows shot up. “You do?”

  “Yes. But you know what Foley’s like. Stickler for the rules.”

  “Yup.”

  He leaned forward. “So here it is—I’ll cover for you while you keep trying to track Celeste from when and where she was last seen. You still need to get your other assigned work done, of course, but you can use whatever resources you need from here to find her.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Like you said earlier, if you find her… you might very well find him.”

  20

  Celeste

  “Remember, Celeste.” Snap. “Try to remember.”

  I gasped as the riding crop bit into the tender skin of my ass. I was bent over a desk in the torture room, my feet shackled to the floor, and Alex was alternating between hitting me with the crop and showing me photos of old men and women.

  “I… I can’t.”

  Snap. Another crack of the riding whip. “What about these?” He moved around the front of the desk and swept all the photos off, replacing them with a new set. “Concentrate as hard as you can.”

  “I am,” I cried out.

  He wasn’t punishing me right now. He’d been very clear about that. He said he was using the stinging sensations of the crop on my ass to distract my mind from the nerve pain in my back that took up so much of my life.

  Sometimes that pain was all I was able to think about. Even when it wasn’t that bad, it was always there in the back of my mind, which made it difficult to focus and think straight. But with something else there to take my mind off it completely, some other type of pain that could be controlled, I actually didn’t feel the neural pain at all. That made me sharper and clearer than ever before. I was able to concentrate harder, go deeper into my mind and memories.

  Alex knew this, and he also seemed to know there was someone or something in this pile of photos that I’d remember or know something about. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be searching for in my mind, though, and the fiery pain from the crop was starting to become too much.

  “Please….” I begged.

  “Come on. It’s in there somewhere.”

  Snap. He pushed me higher still, and somewhere in the back of my mind, something finally snapped into place. “Him!” I screamed.

  Alex stopped. “Which one?”

  I held a shaky finger over one of the photos, pointing to a man with thin light gray hair. “This one.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded through the burning haze. “Yes. I recognize him,” I panted. I wasn’t lying; I really did.

  “From where?”

  I closed my eyes, letting the old memory filter back in. “I was at one of my dad’s dinner parties. I must’ve been about five. That man was there. He was some sort of lawyer or judge, I think.”

  Alex nodded. “Yes, he’s now a Supreme Court Justice. What else do you remember about him?”

  “I remember he was nice. I sat on his lap for a while, and he bounced me up and down and told me stories. I sat there for ages, because Dad left to go and talk to a friend for quite a while.”

  I frowned as I recalled the incident. I hadn’t thought about it for years—and why would I, anyway? It was just a party—but I remembered being mad at my father that night. Mad that he’d disappeared from the room for so long. His judge friend was nice and took care of me, but still, I didn’t like to be left alone without my parents for too long, and my mother hadn’t been in attendance.

  “I see. Anything else?”

  I shook my head. “Why? Do you know him?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to do something with him?”

  “Perhaps.” He didn’t elaborate, and he unshackled my ankles from where they were held. “You’ve been very good today,” he said. “I’m going to give you a reward. You’ll be allowed to get some fresh air. Not for long, though. It’s very cold.”

  My eyes widened. I could’ve kissed him. “You’re really letting me out?”

  He smiled down
at me. “In a manner of speaking.”

  I found out what he meant fifteen minutes later. Dressed in thick winter clothes he’d allowed me to select from the luxurious fantasy room down the hall, I followed him outside and let him fasten me to a chain behind the house. I was allowed the freedom to roam outside for a while, but I only had about a hundred feet of freedom.

  Alex stood and watched me as I trudged around the snow, smiling and breathing in the cool, crisp air. After being confined to the cell so often, fresh air was a treat to me now, and he knew that. Even if I was stuck on a chain like an animal, I was still truly grateful to be outside.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, looking over at him.

  For the very first time, I genuinely meant it when I thanked Alex. I saw him smile, and I knew he was aware.

  I explored as far as I could, wandering around the back of what appeared to be a big greenhouse with an attached garden shed. Beyond that was a barely-visible path lined with snow-tipped hedges. The chain didn’t give me enough slack to follow it down to its end, but Alex filled me in on where it went. “See those trees all the way down there?” he asked, pointing at a line of trees a couple of hundred yards away.

  I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “There’s a creek that runs through the property. The path leads down to there. It’s nice in spring. Frozen over now, though. Will be until the end of winter.”

  “Is it winter now?” I asked. I’d completely lost track of time.

  “Not yet. Almost, though. It’s nearly the end of November.”

  “Oh.” So I’d been here for about five weeks now. It felt so much longer than that. “Where are we?”

  He chuckled. “Nice try, angel. Let’s go back inside. It’s too cold for you to be out here much longer.”

  I sighed and let him lead me back inside. It was nice while it lasted, I guess. If I was good, I might even get more time outside another day.

  When I was back inside, Alex fed me a hot meal, then led me into the luxurious room he’d once promised me if I gained his trust. I wouldn’t have that anytime soon, but while I was being rewarded, I was apparently allowed in here for at least a short amount of time.

  “Take a shower,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. “It’ll warm you up.”

  I did as he said and headed into the bathroom. As I stripped, I noticed that the tap in the bath was blocked off from something that’d been wrapped around it. I knew why Alex had done that.

  It was to make sure I didn’t try to drown myself.

  A sharp pang gnawed at my insides at the realization. On a day like this, when he was being so nice to me, it was easy to forget who he was. What he was. But when I saw things like that, it reminded me that a normal person under these circumstances might just break all the way to the point where they would rather die than live here anymore.

  Still, it was getting difficult for me to associate that with Alex. Since my escape attempt and box punishment the other day, the lines of my reality were blurring, and I was starting to mentally separate Alex into two different people.

  There was the Alex who tore me away from my life and imprisoned me, and probably tortured many other girls in the past. Then there was the Alex who brought me so many pleasures and gave me what I wanted and needed, controlling me when I didn’t even know I wanted to be controlled yet. They seemed like two totally different people, even though the rational part of my mind knew they weren’t.

  I still hated myself for craving him so much, because that rational part of me was still strong, but the other part of me was starting to win out. I craved the weight of his body on mine, his murmurs against my ear, his hands on my hips.

  I wouldn’t last much longer….

  21

  Celeste

  I showered for as long as I could without my skin turning pruney, savoring the warmth of the water as it streamed all over me. It stung a bit when it touched the thin welts on my ass, but it wasn’t that bad. Actually quite pleasant.

  When I finally got out, I realized that Alex had taken the clothes I’d stripped off. I padded out naked into the main bedroom, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw him standing there holding what appeared to be a multi-tailed whip with a thick handle.

  I fell to my knees, my eyes wide with terror. “Please, sir, you said I was good today. You said—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips. “Shh, angel. It’s a flogger; it looks much worse than it actually is. This is part of your reward. Do you trust me?”

  My eyes still wide, I nodded. I did trust him. So far, Alex had always done exactly what he said he would. So if he said this was a reward, I had to believe that it was.

  “Come to the playroom.” He roughly pulled me back to my feet, then made me follow him down the hall and into the room with all the other whips, which I’d personally dubbed the Torture Room. He directed me over to something I hadn’t seen before—a large black X-framed cross affixed to a wall. It was on the opposite side of the room from the desk I’d been shackled to earlier today and the platform I’d been whipped on the first time I was in here, so I’d never noticed it until now.

  There were cuffs on each point of the cross, and when Alex fitted each one of them to my hands and ankles, I was spread-eagled across the thing, bare, vulnerable and trembling with anticipation as I faced the wall.

  I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I felt it. He began to whip me with the flogger, and it was nothing like my punishment whipping the other week. It was strangely pleasant, like a gentle caress. Slow, sensual, pure sensation. I felt like I was drifting away on a cloud, dancing on air.

  I was right to trust him.

  Endorphins flooded my system as he took me higher, speeding up the swinging stings of the splayed leather tails, hitting me harder. I cried out, but not because I wanted it to stop. The heady rush of pain mixed with pleasure was forming a potent cocktail of desire, and every inch of me ached for release.

  “More,” I breathed. He hit me harder, faster, and I was grateful for it. “More, sir… harder….”

  Pulses of pleasure jolted down to my clit with each hard snap of the whip, making my inner muscles throb and clench around nothing. My eyes squeezed shut, and I moaned like a desperate whore. I wasn’t ashamed. Not in the slightest. Here, I was allowed to be turned on by this. I was allowed to cry out, demand more pain. I was allowed to relinquish all control to my captor, and I was allowed to love it.

  The flogger came down on my upper back in three more stinging stripes, but I barely even felt like I was here anymore. I was too delirious, floating on my fiery cloud, arousal on a hair trigger. My pussy had never been this wet, never been this ready, and I knew all that without even touching it.

  There was only one thought in my mind now, flashing like a neon light.

  I wanted Alex.

  I wanted him to take my virginity. I wanted his fingers, tongue, and cock to fill me up, wanted him to slam into me until I was bruised and satiated. He was impossible not to crave, impossible not to need. Not for any longer. My pussy twitched with the mere thought of having him break me in.

  A very distant part of my mind wondered if this was simply deeply ingrained Stockholm syndrome, where I truly, desperately believed I wanted him as part of some survival technique. Granted, willingly sleeping with him would probably lengthen my lifespan, given what I thought I knew about him, but still… was that all there was to it? Could Stockholm make me ache for him this badly?

  I didn’t know the answer to that question. But I knew how I felt. So aroused, so desperate I might explode. Dizzy, panting, hot, wet everywhere, my muscles tight with tension. I whimpered, letting out a little sob of submission.

  “Please, sir….” I whispered.

  “Please what?” Alex asked, his mouth only inches from my ear. He could surely see my dripping arousal, smell it filling the room. He already knew what was coming.

  I exhaled, then spoke the three words I promised myself I’d never, ever say to this man. “Please fuck me.�
��

  This was pure surrender. This was what he wanted all along. He wanted me so utterly broken that I would beg him to have sex with me. He even told me it would happen. And he was right. I broke, and I walked right into it, willingly. I sank lower than I ever thought I could, and now I was begging for my captor’s cock.

  It was so wrong, so obscene, that it drove me completely and utterly wild. If he said no, I might just die.

  But he didn’t refuse me. His fingers parted me open, my pussy drenching his hand. “Beg me again. Like the little cum slut you are.”

  Moans of desperation fell from my lips. His words were crude and possessive, and I loved it. It turned me on even more to hear him say such filthy things. “Please, please, please….”

  “Address me properly.”

  “Please, sir… I need you to fuck me….”

  I felt him then, the huge head of his cock pushing against my entrance. My body battled with the thought of something so big invading me while my mind screamed, ‘take it, take it now’. Alex plunged inside me, and a sound of raw pain tore from my throat. Every nerve ending shrieked, and still I begged him to keep going as he shoved in another forceful inch.

  “You’re mine,” he grunted against my left ear as he thrust all the way home. As he began to force himself in and out of my virgin pussy, I felt like I was being split apart, broken in two. “Your body is mine. Every part of you is mine. I’m never fucking letting you go.”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered, my eyes welling with hot tears. “Don’t let me go. Don’t stop.”

  He fucked me like a man possessed, hands roughly squeezing and pinching at my tits as he drove himself deeper, wetting himself with my juices. I squealed as he claimed me, again and again, claiming what belonged to him and only him. It still hurt, but I wanted him deeper and harder. Wanted him to stretch me beyond my limits. Wanted to give him more of me.

  Alex’s fingers began to strum at my clit as he slammed into me. If I hadn’t been cuffed to the cross, I would’ve gone weak at the knees and collapsed. I began to beg again, this time like the dirty whore I was, my words interspersed with intense moans and frenzied whimpers. “Keep fucking me, sir… I want you everywhere… please! I need it….”