I don’t know who it was, or if anyone else has called wondering where I am. Maybe he’s just shut it off. For all I know, he threw it out the window.
My eyes feel puffy and swollen with tears. I hate this. I hate how helpless I am. I'm bounced around painfully as the car passes over an uneven patch of gravel and then slows. My heart hammers against my chest, and the heavy weight of sleep vanishes, replaced with intense anxiety. We've stopped.
I keep perfectly still as he opens and closes his door. I wait to hear where he’s going. Part of me hopes he’ll forget I’m back here, like that’s even a possibility. Still, if that were the case, I could try to get the fuck out of here.
That stupid dream crumbles into dust as he opens the trunk. I bite down on the gag in my mouth and shake my head, trying to move away from him.
He looks at me with an intense stare that makes me want to cave to him. Something in his look sparks an electric current between us, but in a flash it’s gone.
I don’t fear him, not like the others. Some part of me feels safe with him. It’s a false sense of security, but it’s there, keeping me somewhat calm although anger is coursing through me.
He grabs my waist, hoisting me over his shoulder. I try to struggle, but his large hand smacks hard against my ass. Slap! His hand meets my bare skin underneath my skirt, and the shocking pain shoots through my body. My back bows, and a scream rips through my throat, muffled by the gag.
“Stop it.” His harsh admonishment makes my body go limp. I struggle to take a breath as I look around. There’s nothing but woods. I can’t see anything but woods.
He’s going to kill me. My heart hammers frantically and I nearly vomit, but then I see pavers.
Gorgeous stained concrete pavers make a perfect path surrounding a garden of lavender and rose bushes. Lush green grass trimmed to the perfect height separates the tiles. As we walk up some steps, I see columns with ivy growing up the side and over the roof of a pavilion.
I don’t have a chance to see anything else, but we’re at a house at least. I know that much. A home with a perfectly manicured, and well taken care of lawn. Which means other people will be here. Hope ignites within me.
I may be in the middle of the woods. But if someone comes, I can yell for help. If I find a way out, I can hide in the trees. The fight in me strengthens as he carries me through the doorway and shuts it behind us with a loud bang.
I look up and see the massive French doors that we walked through. They have a colonial touch to them, all classic lines and stark white coloring. The hardwood floors are dark, with wide planks. If this were any other day, I'd admire the architecture. But this isn't any other day. And this isn't a place to admire, it's a place that induces fear. It's beautiful, but it's still a prison.
Before I have a chance to look around and take in more of my surroundings looking for exits or anything I can use as a weapon, Kade carries me up the stairs and through a dark hallway. A room. He’s taking me to a room. My heartbeat picks up.
I can’t freak out. I need to pay attention and keep track of where the exit is. We walk much longer than I thought possible. If my count is correct, we pass six doors and an open hallway with a balcony that overlooks the entrance. It's hard to tell how many doors we pass exactly since the hallway is so dark, but when we get to the balcony I'm able to use the lighting to my advantage as I look around.
This house is huge. No, not a house. A mansion, maybe?
All too soon the balcony ends, and once again darkness takes over. I can barely make out a door to my left, and then he stops.
He lowers me to the ground more gently than I thought he would. The zip ties dig deeper into my ankles because of the angle, and I hiss in a breath. I hear keys jingling, and I look up to see an old set of keys in his hands. The keys look like they're made from cast iron, and I'm guessing he pulled them down from a nearby hook on the wall. I hadn't noticed earlier due to the distracting and excruciating pain in my ankles, but I can't make that mistake again. I need to stay alert if I'm going to get out of here alive. Kade carefully selects one key from the bunch although they all look alike to me. With a clink, the door unlocks and he pushes it open.
He looks down at me for a moment, but I’m too scared to look up.
I feel his eyes on me, but I keep my own trained on the ground.
I let out a yelp of surprise as he quickly picks up my small body and takes me into the room, cradling me in his arms. I resist the urge to rest my head against his hard, muscular chest.
My stomach hurts, and the exhaustion hits me harder than before.
He leaves the door open and carries me across the room onto a soft bed before setting me down gently.
He leaves me there, bound, gagged, and lying on my side. I close my eyes, listening to him moving through the room. It’s dark, but I can clearly make out a dresser in front of me. It’s an antique with glass knobs. I imagine the pulls have screws on the ends. I’ve seen them before at the hardware store. If I get a chance, I could unscrew them. I could use one to stab him in his jugular and get the fuck out of here. I just need him to untie me first.
I hear him gather items throughout the room and take them out to the hallway.
It seems like forever, listening to him rearranging the room. And then nothing.
It sounds like he’s gone. But he’s left me bound. I try to look around, but I can’t see anything besides the dresser. I wish I could move, but with my hands bound behind my back, I can’t. I try again uselessly to get out of the binds, but it only makes the pain worse.
I still as I hear his footsteps in the hallway. They grow closer and louder until he’s standing in front of me, his hips by my head. I can see the buckle of his belt, and his crisp white shirt that now has a smear of blood, no doubt from when he carried me.
He grips my forearm and with a quick slice, cuts the ties. Relief flows through me, along with new aches and the need to move. But I’m stiff, waiting for him to cut the ties on my ankles. As soon as he does, I fucking bolt.
I jump up and push against him with all my weight, and by some miracle, it forces him far enough away that I’m able to jump from the bed. I sprint as hard as I can, but I don’t make it more than a few feet before his hand grips the hem of my sweater. I let out a shriek, landing hard on my side, palms slamming against the floor as he drags me toward him. All the while I fight. I kick my legs blindly and scream for help.
My foot lands hard against his chest, but he doesn't even flinch. Instead he grips my hair at the base of my skull, and I yelp in agony as he yanks my head back. Tears leak from my eyes at the sharp pain, and my hands instinctively move to try and pry his fingers from my head. He releases my head, but the momentary relief I feel is quickly eclipsed by intense pain once more as he grabs both of my wrists. The stinging pain from the cuts intensifies.
With my wrists secured in one hand, he wraps his other arm around my waist and carries me back to the bed.
He pushes me face down on the bed, his large frame pinning me beneath him, forcing me still. He seizes the nape of my neck and squeezes until I go limp beneath him, surrendering the fight I so badly lost. Tears roll down my cheeks, every part of my body aching, and my soul crushed with hopelessness.
“This is your one warning.” His hot breath leaves chills down my spine, his lips barely touching the shell of my ear. A shiver runs through my body and the deep cadence of his voice makes my pussy clench with sinful thoughts. “There is no escape from this.”
Olivia
I can’t sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. I just can’t. I’m afraid to move, afraid to even breathe too loudly. But I have to. I have to look and see if there’s a way out.
He has my phone. I hope he still has it. I know I heard the ringtone earlier, so I can only hope Cheryl or someone tracks it and finds me here.
But how long would that take? Too fucking long.
I can’t wait for a knight in shining armor to come and save me. Every second I'm here is a
nother second Kade could decide to just kill me, or worse. I shudder as I think back to Ricky and Vic. Some things are definitely worse than death. The first thing I need to do is move. I haven’t budged an inch since he left me.
I’m terrified that the moment I move off the bed, he’ll burst through the door and beat me. I remember his weight on top of me, and the way he gripped my hair. I can't fight him. It's an uneven match.
He’s not going to save me. It was stupid for me to even hope he would. No one’s coming to my rescue.
I have to try to save myself.
Without realizing it, I've gathered handfuls of the down comforter. It's fluffy and soft, but the intricate stitching chafes against the cuts on my wrists. With a small sigh I let the comforter fall and gently run a fingertip along my wounds.
I can’t stay here and wait for more.
I slowly pull the blanket away from me. I’m still fully clothed in my sweater and skirt. There’s no way I’m taking anything off of me. I need as much between me and that asshole as possible.
I gently climb off the bed and head over to the one thing I’ve been thinking about all night. The windows.
There are two large windows on either side of the large bed. They’re both covered by curtains that run from the floor to the ceiling. The fabric is thick and rich, although with such little light in the room, I can't tell for certain what color the curtains are. I place one foot on the cold hardwood floors and pause before placing my full weight down slowly.
The floors creak, and I wince. My eyes dart to the door and I hold my breath, waiting for a sign that he’s heard. It’s been hours since he left me alone here, I think. He must be sleeping by now.
We’re high up on the second story. I’m sure he’s certain I can’t escape. I fucking hope he’s that confident.
I take another step, trying my best to keep the creaking to a minimum and walk with slow, deliberate steps to the nearest window.
My heart beats loudly in my ears. It climbs up my throat, threatening to suffocate me. What if he finds me trying to escape? What will he do to me?
I shake my head slightly and walk quicker to the window. I can’t think like that. I can’t let fear keep me from saving myself. I pull back the heavy curtain and nearly cry at what I find. My shoulders sink inward. There are bars on the windows. Thick steel bars. They’re on the outside, so I could open a window, but then I’d have to try to squeeze myself through. I don’t even think my head would fit, let alone my wider parts.
I swallow, and my dry throat aches from the wretched screaming that did nothing for me. I can’t give up. I imagine he locked the door, but I haven’t checked. I take two steps toward it, but then I stop as I spot the dresser, remembering the thought I had earlier. The knobs. I need a weapon; I need more than one.
I brace one hand and hover over the knob. I see his tall frame; I feel his lips on my neck. I shouldn’t think twice about hurting him. He deserves it. He can’t do this to me! But I do. I question if I should. I question if I really want to.
The thoughts are gone just as quickly as they came, and I hold on to the anger of being taken and the fear of being trapped.
I quickly try to unscrew a knob, but the first one I try is on so fucking tight. I grip it harder and twist it to the point that it hurts my hand, but it doesn't give at all. I breathe frantically and try the other one on the top drawer. But it doesn’t budge either.
I crouch lower to try the next, and hope lights within me as it loosens. I unscrew it, but instead of the glass pull being attached to the screw, the screw itself is still in the drawer. I try opening the drawer as silently as I can, but the thing is old. There aren’t any tracks, and it’s loud as hell trying to pull it out.
I get it open just enough for my hand to fit inside. The drawer itself is empty, which I find odd, but I don’t give it much thought.
I try to get the screw loose, pushing my thumb against it and twisting, and when that doesn't work, I try using my nails. But it won't fucking move.
Useless.
I lick my lips and drop the knob into the drawer, not bothering to close it as I take a look around the room.
I need to find something else.
The room is massive. Compared to the dorms and my cramped apartment, it’s ridiculous in size.
I search the room for closets, but there are none. There are two wardrobes that look identical to the left of the room, however.
As I walk toward them to see what’s inside, I nearly trip. A rug I hadn’t noticed before is under my feet. I must have fallen onto it earlier, but I hadn’t noticed. I steady myself and stare at the door, hoping he didn't hear. Minutes pass with no sign of him.
I walk as quietly as I can to the wardrobes, and pray there’s something in there I can use against him.
It doesn’t take long for me to get there and find the first one empty. Hope dwindles inside of me, but I have to try the other. With shaky hands, I open the second wardrobe and I find the same. Empty. The feeling of defeat washes over me. That leaves only one other thing to try, and I shouldn't even be getting my hopes up.
I look to the door to the room, and pray it’s unlocked. What are the odds he would be so foolish?
And if it isn't locked, maybe he’s waiting for me. Maybe it’s a test.
Either way, I have to try. I won’t stay here and make this easy on him. I can’t. I need to get the fuck out of here. That’s the only truth I need to hold on to.
Kade
The ice clinks in my glass as I lift it off the coffee table. The fire across the room roars and crackles. Those are the only noises in the room, but the noises I'm hearing are different. I can't stop hearing James' last words. The bang of my gun. Over and over, the sounds won’t stop.
Criminal. It was our code word. I keep hearing him say it. We chose that word together, but I’d hoped neither of us would ever have to say it.
“You really going to make me say it again?” My heart twists in my chest as I hear James’ words over and over in my mind. I knew this was a possibility when we signed up for this. We both did. It was only supposed to be months, but it turned into years. But if either of us ever had to say that word, I was hoping it’d be me. Not James.
My official record lists thirty-eight confirmed kills overseas. And he had twenty-six. We were something else, so fucking good the government came to us with an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. One last job, and we'd earn enough cash we could live off it forever.
We were ready to go in, excited even. It sucked having to go in separate, but it made sense.
Fucking Ricky Stone was harder to crack than they said he’d be. He’s a hotheaded fuck, but he still hasn’t shown his cards.
Two years ago, one of the biggest sex trafficking trades went down, but neither of us found out about it until it had passed even though we were supposed to be in on it. We--I can’t seem to get close enough.
I front the money for the cartel, I’m their largest investor. My fake background has me passing myself off as an ex-con. As far as they know, I served time for money laundering, and the connections I made in prison led to my current interest in dealing in women. That's how the cartel found me, actually. Buying women. Of course the women all went free and are now safe and recovering. But they think I killed them when I was done.
That’s what the cartel does. It’s what's expected.
Ricky and Vic are sick fucks; they’re behind the biggest and most profitable sex slave and drug trafficking rings across the globe. From the United States, to Thailand, and plenty of places in between.
I was so close to getting more information about Ricky’s informants and business partners overseas. Or at least the locations where they store the women.
I wonder what James found out. I wonder what he did that tipped them off. Tears prick my eyes and I slam the glass down. Fuck!
And she saw. Olivia. She saw me kill him. It’s against protocol to do anything illegal when you’re undercover. Every action has to be appro
ved first, which is bullshit, and everyone knows it. Even though James told me to kill him, they can’t find out. If she went to the police and told them, they’d pull me out in a heartbeat. If she got out and told, this entire operation would be a wash. Years of hard work would be gone, just like that. I could live with that. But my best friend’s death would be for nothing. I can’t let that happen to James.
I would have killed him for nothing.
For a split second, I considered turning the gun on Ricky, at that cold-blooded, hotheaded prick. I considered just killing him and dying alongside James. It would have been an honorable death.
But the rest of them would have lived, including Vic. And the girls would still have been shipped off. Ricky dying, and maybe one of his henchmen--it wouldn’t have been enough to take them down.
And James said it. He said the one word that meant I needed to pull the trigger.
Criminal.
I swallow the whiskey straight from the bottle this time. My head hurts and my throat burns, but my heart hurts more. I’m in too deep to turn back now.
I need to end this, and the date for the sale is quickly approaching. I know it is.
For him, I’ll make sure they all die. I’ll make sure they pay.
I hear the floor creak above the study. She got out of bed. I grind my teeth, hating the position I’m in.
When I saw her, I thought for a moment I’d done it. I thought I’d pointed the gun at the real enemy, that I’d died. She looked like an angel with her white sweater and sun-kissed skin. Her eyes pleaded with me to save her. They were taking her from me. My angel.
I look down into my empty glass.
There’s no angel out there for me.
If I’d left her there with them, I know what they would have done. I know they would have beaten her and used her body. They would have passed her around before selling her off.
They would have broken her, just like they’ve done with so many others. I couldn’t let it happen, but now I’ve fucked myself.
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