Freefall (New Reality Series, Book Three) by Bella St. James

by St. James, Bella

  He pointed toward the other side of the room. “Your shoes go over there.”

  When she bent to pick them up, he yanked her back up. “Dogs don’t walk. They crawl.”

  Humiliation warred with desire, fanned by her enhanced hormones. Her pussy tightened when he issued the order again, slapping her rear to get her moving. She took the first shoe into her mouth, dropped on all fours and did as he said. Crawling back, she realized he’d taken off his tie and draped it over the arm of the chair. She watched as he did the same thing with his leather belt.

  “Good dog. Now sit.”

  Nadine dropped back to sit on her heels, hands clasped in front of her. The man pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the floor before unbuttoning his shirt and sitting in the chair in front of her. He unzipped his pants to expose the silk-covered bulge of an erection. Nadine bit her lip, and raised a hand to touch it.

  “Bad girl.” The man slapped her hand. “I didn’t say you could move. If you can’t listen to your master, it will be the collar and leash for you.”

  Now, she knew why he’d kept the tie and belt close at hand. She’d been bound before, been a submissive as well, but this felt different. It felt dangerous. Yet his hard dick promised relief from the driving desire curling in her belly, pleasure that was her reward for doing as she was told. And after all, weren’t pain and pleasure two sides of the same coin?

  “Stand.”

  She did.

  “Take off that dress and turn in a circle.”

  Again, she did as she was told.

  “Nice tits. Nice ass, too. We’re going to have a very good time tonight. Now down on all fours.”

  He wrapped the belt around her neck and pulled. When she stood, he frowned and said, “You’re being a very bad bitch. And bad bitches get discipline.”

  He yanked on the belt and led her to the bed. He ordered her onto her stomach and wrapped the loose end of the belt around the bed poster to keep her in place. Climbing onto the bed behind her, he began to spank her. Nadine gasped, her ass rising at the first slap. More spanks followed in a deliberate pattern, each slam of his hand against her flesh bringing both a sting and a heightening need. She moved against the overstuffed comforter, the friction against her cunt a new torment.

  “Oh, you’re not coming yet.” The man leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Playtime isn’t over yet.”

  Grabbing the makeshift leash, he brought Nadine to her feet and sat on the edge of the bed. Commanding her to kneel, he told her to finish undressing him. Hands trembling, she did and automatically pulled his cock toward her mouth.

  “Oh, not yet.” He chuckled and yanked on the belt. “That’s a whore trick, and we both know it. A quick blow job and I’m done. We’re going to have a lot more fun than that.”

  Nadine wasn’t prepared for his next move. She whimpered as he grabbed her breasts, kneading them as if they were modeling clay. When his pinching fingers began to torment her swollen nipples, she cried out in pain. He laughed and fumbled the belt from her neck.

  “Crawl over here, bitch.” He spread his legs and patted his balls. “I’ve got something for you that doggies love to lick.”

  He grabbed her head and brought it between his legs. Hands buried in her hair, he moaned as she sucked and licked. The part of her that was the real Nadine hated what he was doing, what she was allowing him to do, but the jacked-up nympho the drugs turned her into loved the way the intimate action made her feel.

  “Nadine!”

  A familiar voice, loud and concerned, punctured the dream. She struggled awake as it came again, realizing as her eyes opened that they were stopped along the side of a road.

  “Nadine, are you okay?”

  Clancy’s worried face looked down at her. She touched the wetness on her cheeks and realized she’d been crying.

  “Nightmare or pain?” Clancy asked, his hand covering hers and pulling it to him.

  “Memories,” she corrected. “The night I came to you.”

  “You were moaning. I thought it might be the incision.”

  She shook her head and stared past him into the failing afternoon. She couldn’t tell him. Wouldn’t. She’d rather have him imagine what she’d done than reveal the sordid details. Time to change the subject.

  “Where are we?”

  “About five miles from a supply house. We’ll get fresh clothes, a new car and, with any luck, some antibiotics. You need to get some in your system.”

  “Good.” Nadine wanted out of this car. She needed time alone, even if it was only a few stolen moments in a bathroom without Clancy standing impatiently at the door. A tiny moment of nothing in the midst of this insanity sounded like heaven. He was probably right about the possibility of infection, too. The tightness and itching were something new, although she didn’t intend to let Clancy know. She intended to stay with him for as long as she could.

  “Here we are,” Clancy announced.

  Nadine held onto the armrest as he made a fast turn onto a narrow, potholed road. They bounced for another mile or so until what must be the supply house came into view. It looked like an old-fashioned junkyard. The carcasses of discarded vehicles were heaped around the concrete block structure and the stereotypical junkyard dog barked from its chain at the corner of an outbuilding. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. The Underground seemed to prefer the seedier places in life.

  Clancy parked at the end of a row of licensed cars, stepped out and stretched. Nadine followed, looking around at the mass of metal and mayhem around her. A burned-out hulk of a delivery van sat cozied up to a dented Mercedes. A stack of stripped auto bodies reached toward the sky like a surreal piece of modern art.

  “What can I do you for?” The question came from a thirty-something man in ripped and faded jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. Both pieces of clothing were decorated with grease and stains as was the camouflage ball cap on his head. Nadine noticed the long braid hanging down his back and wondered how long it had been since he’d last gotten away from this place.

  “This one’s running a little rough, and I’m not sure what’s wrong.” Clancy nodded toward the brown sedan. “Thought you might have something I can trade it on.”

  “Sure. Come on in.”

  Nadine fell in step with Clancy as they followed the man into an office as messy as the man himself. An old, standing ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts, and an aged refrigerator in the corner rattled as it ran. The man reached in, grabbed a can of soda and offered a drink to his visitors. Clancy accepted for both of them. After the first drink of the cold cola, Nadine realized how long it had been since their stop at the restaurant.

  She examined the room as the two men stepped into the corner and spoke in low tones. Old black-and-white photos of cars at a race track hung above a calendar from 1994 with sexy women in bikinis lying on the hoods of exotic cars. A hand-lettered sign announced “no credit” while another cautioned buyers that bounced checks would be turned over to the county prosecutor.

  “Hey! Nadine.” Clancy motioned her over with a flip of his hand.

  The supply master opened a door with a bright red “employees only” sign and stepped through. Nadine followed with Clancy behind her as they went down a set of narrow steps into a room that smelled of motor oil and old concrete. Continuing after their guide to a trapdoor set in the floor, she took a deep breath and went down the open steel steps it revealed.

  This room was bright, clean and had a bright beach mural that took up one whole wall. Three beds, two twins and a double, were arranged around the opposite corner. Sofas and soft chairs took up another portion of the space as did a commercial refrigerator and six-burner stove. Inexpensive dressers and cabinets provided storage space. The contrast with everything above it was absolutely amazing.

  “This is real, right?”

  Clancy laughed. “Believe or not, yes. You’d never believe by the outside of this place that Thorne is a cleanliness nut.”

&nb
sp; The man she assumed was Thorne – although she wasn’t sure if that was his first or last name – shook his head in mock dismay.

  “Go around telling people that and you’ll ruin my reputation, man.” He smiled at Nadine and added, “It’s not much, but it’s home. Mine in the long run and yours for as long as you stay. If you need the facilities, check door number one.”

  The door was easy to find since it was painted bright red, a stark contrast to the concrete floor painted electric blue. Nadine turned the handle with some trepidation, not sure what she’d find inside. Sure, she could sit on a purple toilet seat, but she preferred plain old white.

  The walls were white, the floor covered with taupe tiles, and all the fixtures were white. A fish and coral reef rug took up some of the space between the toilet and sink, a match to plastic curtains enclosing what turned out to be a very large whirlpool bathtub. Thorne was a man who liked his creature comforts, she decided.

  She opened the door and called out, “Hey, Clancy! Tell me I have time for a bath.”

  “If you don’t stay in more than an hour.”

  She heard the humor in his voice and figured he and Thorne had just talked about that. She was certain of it when he handed her a stack of towels and clean clothing.

  A cabinet beside the tub held body washes and shampoo as well as several bottles of scented bubble bath. Since the scents were florals, she figured they were for company. She didn’t see Thorne as the kind of guy who relaxed in lavender-scented suds before settling down to watch a football game. She sniffed her options before pouring a capful of rose scent into the running water filling the tub.

  She investigated the clothing as the water raised to the right level. They looked like the right size, and she liked the softness of the knit shirt and worn jeans. The plain white socks and panties weren’t what she would have chosen for herself, but they were clean. That was enough to make her grateful.

  Naked and about to step into the tub, she was startled when a tap came on the door. It opened a crack, and she heard Clancy’s voice.

  “Toss out what you’ve been wearing, and I’ll wash it.”

  “Come get it.” She stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain shut before Clancy could see her. She smiled to herself, wondering why she was being modest. He’d certainly seen everything she had.

  “Are you being careful with that bandage?” His question came from right beside her.

  Damn. In her excitement over a real bath, she’d forgotten about the incision.

  “Uh, maybe.”

  “I’m going to look at it,” he warned her. Nadine crossed her arms over her chest, covering her breasts, as he pulled back the curtain and stared at her spine.

  “Stand up. I’m going to take it off before you get it soaked. I’ll close my eyes while you grab a towel.”

  Water rolled off her back and legs while she held the towel around her as completely as she could without interfering with the wound area. She tensed when Clancy gently tapped the tender area around the cut and said, “Well, shit.”

  “Bad?” she asked.

  “Not yet. Will be if we don’t get a handle on it.” He stepped back and looked into her eyes. “You need to get to a hospital within the next twelve hours.”

  “So they can call my keepers?” Her words were bitter. “I’d rather endure whatever may happen than go back to being everybody’s sex doll.”

  The pain etched on Nadine’s face tore at Clancy. His own season in hell gave him empathy, but all they’d fucked with was his mind. She’d had her body marauded as well, turned into the same lust object as a high-end car or a Swiss bank account. For most men, a woman like Nadine was as far out of their reach as a mine full of diamonds. To have her alone and doing whatever they wanted had to be a fantasy come true.

  Their fantasy, her horror. She buried herself well. No one would suspect how she’d spent her years since turning eighteen, or the total lack of freedom she had endured.

  “You may be risking your life,” he said.

  She shrugged. “It’s mine to do with as I want now. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  Yeah. He had. He’d meant once she was given a new identity and relocated. Until then, he was responsible for her, even if it meant doing the exact opposite of what she wanted.

  “I’m not sure you’re thinking straight right now.”

  Nadine fixed him with a steely glare. “Because I’m a girly girl, and you’re my white knight? Oh, please.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Then what did you mean? Or do you think I’m PMSing or something because I’m not fainting at your feet?”

  Clancy let her snap at him. He liked the fire in her now, even if she was attacking him. She needed that kind of determination if he carried out the plan he and Thorne had just discussed. Nadine was a hot commodity; the feds wouldn’t stop looking for a long time. With the search for their lost property as priority number one, the underground would face less pressure on every other front.

  That’s the rationale he’d offered in convincing Thorne not to immediately call for transport. He hadn’t confided his near certainty that Vince Madison was gunning for Nadine. The attack on the warehouse, Vince dropping by Mother’s, his own gut feeling all added up. At least he had Nate to offer misdirection.

  “I don’t want to see you die.” The truth, Clancy decided, was as good as any lie he could offer. “I told you, I know just enough about medicine to be dangerous.”

  “Nobody lives forever.” She adjusted her slipping towel. “Maybe my time is rolling down on me.”

  “And maybe you’re going to live to be ninety. Let me put something on there, and you can soak to your heart’s content.”

  He tried to ignore Nadine’s nakedness and the bubbles clinging to her skin as he placed a plastic sealing patch over the incision. If they’d had time, if Thorne wasn’t out there, she wouldn’t be taking this bath alone. If, if, if… the world had narrowed to if, what and why.

  Clancy stepped out and added the clothes he’d just retrieved to the small batch in the washer then started it. Thorne opened the big supply room, and soon Clancy had stocked up on everything he might need. The room contained a small arsenal of weapons in all sizes and calibers. Clancy considered what might be useful and what would be a nuisance to carry with them. He finally decided on a folding knife, a machete, and a large-caliber handgun. He toyed with the idea of grabbing a shotgun, as well. At close range, a shotgun would fell a man in short order. But arming like an old west sheriff seemed like overkill.

  “She okay to travel?” Thorne’s question came from beside the stove where he was chopping chicken into small pieces. Clancy wasn’t sure what the man was making, but he handled the knife with the skill of a professional chef.

  “Says she is.” Clancy sat at the table. “I’m letting her make the call.”

  “What’s a sanctuary director like you doing taking a transport?” Thorne turned and waited for an answer.

  “We had a discovery.” Clancy chose his words carefully. “We had to go before the transport arrived. I volunteered to make the run. I’ll be reassigned anyway.”

  “Maybe they’ll send you to Florida,” Thorne suggested. “South Beach. Beautiful women, nightlife, great beaches – what more could you ask?”

  “Let’s see you in a Speedo first,” Nadine said as she walked up to join Clancy at the table. “I’d hate to see you embarrass yourself among those beautiful bodies.”

  Thorne turned back to his cooking with a chuckle. Clancy had a feeling he’d like to say something but wasn’t going to with Nadine there. He didn’t intend to discuss his physique in a tiny pair of briefs either.

  He watched as Nadine drifted over to Thorne to inspect the food preparation. Before long she was at the stove stirring something in a skillet while her fellow cook started on a green salad. The homey scene reminded Clancy once again of what Nadine had missed for most of her life. The damn government had deprived her of all the simple, normal
moments like this. He’d make sure she had a chance for the ordinary or die trying.

  The whooping sound of an alarm suddenly filled the room. Clancy jumped up and headed for Nadine. Thorne held up a hand to stop him.

  “Just the phone,” he said. “No need to freak out until the door gets busted down.”

  He grabbed a portable receiver off its cradle on the wall and answered with a “County Line Parts.” He listened for a moment without speaking then held the phone toward Clancy, who took it with trepidation.

  He was grateful it was only Nate.

  “Keep going, man.” The warning came without preamble. “There’s a mole in our operation, and he’s gunning for you.”

  Anger and fear curled inside Clancy’s gut. “Who?”

  “I’m not sure,” Nate said. “Someone who knows she’s still with you. That limits the pool, huh?”

  “Sure as hell does. Thanks for the heads up.”

  Thorne’s face showed curiosity; Nadine simply looked resigned. If she was giving up hope, nothing he could do would help. Somewhere inside her was the pool of strength she’d drawn on in making her escape. Only digging deep and finding it again could give her the happy ending she longed for.

  “That stuff about ready?” He stood and stretched. The old “need to know” policy actually came in handy. He intended to pull the line out if either of them asked questions.

  They didn’t. Nadine smiled and waved the aroma from the skillet toward him.

  “Smells like something fancy,” he said. “I didn’t know you were both a grease monkey and a gourmet chef.”

  “You’d be surprised at all my talents,” Thorne replied. “Your girl and I plan to treat you to the fancy dance from that Nutcracker ballet once we’re done eating.”

  When Nadine began to giggle, Clancy joined in. The very idea of the six-something, skinny dude in his apron-covered work clothes and beat-up boots joining Nadine in a pirouette was something he’d pay good money to see. The light moment was the perfect foil for the dark worry he’d been traveling with.

  The stir-fry that finally appeared on the table was as good as is it smelled. The salad greens were crisp and accented with what Thorne said was his homemade raspberry vinaigrette dressing. Clancy wasn’t surprised when the man pulled a cheesecake from the refrigerator as dessert. The others had wine with their meal, but he chose black coffee instead. Nothing was going to interfere with his concentration or his ability to connect with others’ minds.