by Julia Sykes
With a little exasperated growl, I fisted the chain and jerked at it. My only reward was an aching palm where the metal links bit into my skin. I reached for the padlock that kept the chain tethered to the ringbolt in the bedpost. I pulled down sharply, trying to break it.
I didn’t have a hope of snapping the lock on my own. I might have been able to pick it, but I’d need tools for that. I stood and tested my range of movement. I could walk exactly two steps away from the bed before the collar tightened around my throat. Even if I stretched and reached my arm out to the point of discomfort, I couldn’t touch the chest of drawers. There was no guarantee that the keys to the locks were kept in there, but it was my best bet.
After a few minutes, I sat back down on the bed, frustrated. I might as well be in the cage, for all the freedom I had.
I shivered and pushed that thought away. My situation was dire, but at least I hadn’t been caged like an animal.
Gatita. Andrés had called me a kitten. I might not be familiar with much Spanish, but I knew that word from elementary classes in the language when I was young.
Did he really see me as some sort of unruly little pet he could train into obedience?
The way he’d touched my body made it very clear that he saw me as a woman.
But I fully suspected he still intended to train me. He’d claimed that I belonged to him. At least, I would until Cristian decided to let me go.
He had to let me go. He’d given me to Andrés to get the truth out of me, and I’d convinced Andrés that I was a federal agent. He’d said he believed me. Surely he’d talk to his brother, and Cristian wouldn’t be so reckless as to keep me captive?
I’ll get out of this, I thought desperately. I might not currently be able to escape on my own, but my friends would either locate me, or the Moreno brothers would see reason and release me before the full power of the FBI came down on them.
How had it come to this? Before yesterday, I hadn’t really stopped to think about how dangerous the Moreno brothers were. I’d been focused on Division 9-C. They were the big, scary bad guys I was targeting.
I hadn’t realized how big and scary Andrés was. I hadn’t even considered him at all. I’d known Cristian was dangerous, but I’d only been peripherally aware of his little brother.
But I’d been taken from my home, captured. And given to Andrés.
I shuddered at the thought of his scarred face and hulking body, my heartbeat ticking up as panic rose. He’d return at some point soon. I’d need to be prepared, to either route my escape or reason through how I’d convince him to release me.
I took several deep, calming breaths and continued to assess my prison. Turning to my analytical brain was much easier than facing my animal emotions.
The floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one bedroom wall revealed a stunning view of the Chicago skyline. It was beautiful, but unsettling to be so high up. Even if I somehow got free from the collar, I couldn’t escape through a window. No doubt, plenty of Andrés’ men stood between the suite and the building’s exit. I hadn’t been able to fight off the single man who was holding me captive, so the prospect of facing down an unknown number of adversaries didn’t exactly sound like a good plan.
That non-plan was pointless, anyway, because I was chained to the fucking bed.
The click of the door latch disengaging made me scramble for cover. I hastily snatched up the tangled bedsheet and barely managed to clutch it to my chest before the bedroom door swung open.
A girl stood at the threshold. No, not a girl. A woman, although barely. The too-thin blonde couldn’t be more than twenty, but her dull green eyes belonged to a much older woman. If she gained a few pounds, her body would have been model-perfect, a fact which was made clear by the plunging neckline of her skintight red dress. As it was, her breastbone stood out at the center of her chest, and her cheeks were nearly as hollow as her deadened stare. There was no emotion in her eyes whatsoever. If she’d been afraid, I could have assumed she was a fellow captive here. If she’d been hopeful, maybe she might have been an ally here to rescue me. Even disdain would have indicated something useful; it would have identified her as an enemy.
But there was nothing behind her eyes. They were a lovely, forest green, framed in long, dark lashes. No matter how physically striking she may be, it was difficult to look at her.
“Who are you?” I asked, watching her warily.
“Lauren,” she replied, as though her softly-spoken name were all she had to offer in response. She hesitated in the doorway, staring at me. I shifted and pulled the sheet up to my chin.
“What do you want?” I pressed. She wasn’t attacking me, but she wasn’t helping me, either.
“He told me to bring you breakfast,” she said, finally moving. She half-turned and directed a small cart into the bedroom. It looked like fancy room service, only, this wasn’t a luxury hotel, and Lauren wasn’t dressed for the service industry.
“Who is he?” I had a good idea whom she meant, but I needed to know the person responsible for sending the food. I doubted Andrés would poison me. He’d been very clear that he wanted to keep me. But I wasn’t at all certain of Cristian’s intentions.
She finished pushing the cart up to the edge of the bed, but I didn’t move toward the food, even though I could smell the delicious scent of bacon.
“Master Andrés,” she explained in the same deadpan voice.
My hand shot out, and I gripped her wrist hard. “So you’re captive here, too,” I said quickly. She must be, if Andrés had broken her and forced her to call him Master. Wasn’t that exactly what he wanted from me?
“Help me,” I urged, tugging at the chain that bound me to the bed. “Do you know where he keeps the keys? They’re probably in that drawer.” I nodded in the direction of the piece of furniture that held the literal keys to my freedom. “I’m a federal agent. If you get this collar off me, I can get us both out of here.”
She blinked at me, then tugged her wrist free from my desperate grip.
“There’s no way out,” she said flatly.
“Of course there’s a way out,” I tried to reason with her. “How do we leave this suite? How many men are guarding the building? You know what, scratch that,” I said quickly, noting her nonplussed expression. I might have trained as a field agent, but I couldn’t get the two of us past multiple guards without a weapon. “If you could just get me a phone, I can call my friends, and they’ll come in and get us,” I hastened on.
“I can’t do that,” she said, her refusal devoid of any emotion. “I’ll get into trouble. Besides, you don’t want to leave this room. You’re safest in here.”
“What?” I spluttered, beginning to question the woman’s sanity. “You see what he’s done to me. This isn’t safe. I have to get out of here.”
“Master Andrés won’t let them dose you with Bliss and pass you around,” she said, something finally flickering in her haunted eyes. “He doesn’t like it.”
“He’s not your Master,” I said vehemently, trying to get through to her. She’d clearly been tormented, warped. If she’d been dosed with Bliss, she would have no control over her body while under the influence. She’d do anything she was told, including begging to be violated. My stomach turned at the knowledge of Andrés’ involvement in trafficking the sick drug. He was ultimately responsible for Lauren’s fractured state of mind.
“All the girls call him Master.” She shrugged. “He used to take care of us. But that was before the Bliss. He doesn’t like it,” she repeated, as though that explained everything.
I reached for her again, but she dodged back.
“Please,” I begged. “I can tell he hurt you. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Give me a phone. I just need—”
“Master Andrés didn’t hurt me,” she said with shocking fervor. “He’s nice to me. And he will be very angry with me if I help you. He told me to bring you food, and I brought it.”
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of th
e bedroom.
“Wait!” I called after her as the door slammed shut.
I threaded my fingers through my hair, tugging at the coppery strands as I struggled to curb my mounting panic.
Master Andrés.
He’d claimed he was my Master now. And he’d proven how commanding and relentless he could be. Did he want to twist me into the same broken, fucked-up state as Lauren? She clearly felt some sort of perverted affection for him, even though she’d obviously been victimized.
I pressed my palms against my closed eyes and struggled to breathe normally.
I’ll get out of this. I have to.
I couldn’t end up like Lauren. I wouldn’t.
Chapter 5
I wasn’t sure how much time passed. Hours, surely. There wasn’t a clock in the bedroom, so my only concept of time was the sun intermittently peeking through the overcast clouds.
I’d never been forced to sit without mental stimulation for so long. Usually, if I wasn’t on my computer at home, I was at work. Even during my short commute, I passed the time on my smart phone. I rarely even watched TV or movies without also playing a game at the same time. My brain fired in too many different directions at once for me to focus on any one thing for long. Only digging deep into a case for the Bureau or a little side hacking just for shits and giggles could fully occupy my mind.
Now that I was forced to think about it, I doubted I’d gone longer than a waking hour without some sort of contact with technology in years. Possibly not since I was nine and got my first Gameboy.
I’d exhausted all avenues of possible escape from the bedroom within a very short time. Without Lauren’s help, I was powerless to free myself from the collar that kept me tethered to the bed. Quite literally, on a short leash.
The breakfast—now stone cold—taunted me from the tray. I hadn’t been provided with any utensils, likely because I would have devised some way to fashion them into weapons. Or possibly find a way to break my chains.
As it was, I had freaking bacon and breakfast potatoes. Like that would do me any good.
Well, my rumbling stomach told me I certainly could use the food, but I didn’t trust it. While I doubted Andrés would poison me, he’d proven he had no qualms about drugging me. I didn’t want to be unconscious and helpless again. Especially considering the fact that it had cost me my clothes the last time he’d drugged me. My only semblance of modesty now was the bedsheet, which I’d managed to wrap around me in an awkward toga. Maybe it would’ve been neater if I’d ever attended those fraternity parties in college, but I hadn’t been invited.
I hadn’t been interested in going, anyway.
I blew out a long breath and rubbed my forehead. Why was I thinking about college? Those weren’t my best memories, and I much preferred to sink into my work and my online persona rather than remembering those difficult years.
All my years before joining the Bureau and meeting Dex had been difficult, really. When I joined the FBI, I found a community where I was valued and respected. And I’d found a best friend who never judged me or pushed me to talk about personal, unpleasant things. Dex and I shared a special companionship, even though I wanted to be more than his companion.
But pursuing that path had been a mistake. My obsession with my friend and his darker sexual predilections had obviously fucked me up. I’d spent too many hours watching his kinky porn. I’d even followed him to a BDSM club on one particularly desperate Valentine’s Day, but he hadn’t noticed me watching him from the bar. He never noticed me, not the way I wanted him to.
My yearning for Dex was the only explanation for why my body reacted to Andrés’ twisted treatment with signs of desire. Fear might still grip my mind when he touched me, but my body didn’t seem to care that I was afraid.
I jolted when the bedroom door opened again. So annoying that Andrés hadn’t even bothered to lock it, but I couldn’t get close to it with this damn collar around my neck. It was like he did it to taunt me. Or to demonstrate his absolute power over me.
If that was his intention, I had to admit to myself that he was doing a pretty good job at it.
I scrambled upright from where I’d been laying dejected, staring up at the pretty crystal chandelier. I braced myself for the sight of Andrés’ hulking body and scarred face, but a different man appeared at the threshold. He was nearly as tall as my captor—a few inches over six feet—but his frame was wiry. He appeared to be as young as Lauren, a downy attempt at a dark blond beard only making him seem younger rather than more mature.
Also like Lauren, he behaved oddly. He didn’t so much as glance in my direction as he wheeled a cart of cleaning supplies into the room and headed for the bathroom.
“Hello,” I said tentatively.
He didn’t respond in any way; he just kept going about his business, which I assumed was to tidy the suite while Andrés was out.
“Um, hey.” I made an awkward wave to catch his attention.
No response. He disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the sounds of scrubbing, but no words.
Was the man mute? Surely, he wasn’t blind.
So why was he completely ignoring me?
“Hey,” I called out. “I’m Sam.” I felt like an idiot introducing myself when I couldn’t even see him from my perch on the bed, but maybe if I made an attempt at normal conversation, he’d pay attention. There was a chance he was frightened, another captive who had been twisted like Lauren. I needed to get through to him.
My efforts were ridiculous and ineffective.
“What’s your name?” I asked loudly.
He reappeared in the bedroom, wheeling his cart back toward the exit. He still didn’t look at me or respond in any way.
“Wait,” I said desperately. “I need your help. Talk to me, please. You don’t have to be afraid.”
His gray eyes finally riveted on me, narrowed in anger. “Of course I do,” he hissed. “Do you know what he’d do to me if I helped you? I have a future to think about. I’m not about to fuck it up by pissing off the boss. Especially not for some whore.”
I flinched at the word whore, but I plowed on. “I can help you. If he’s threatened you, my friends can—”
He barked out a laugh. “You think I’m being threatened into staying here? I’m paying my dues, you stupid bitch. Don’t fucking talk to me ever again. And don’t you dare tell him I spoke to you, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Andrés interrupted the man, his voice deadly calm.
My captor had approached far too quietly, appearing in the open doorway out of nowhere. The man paled and swallowed hard before slowly turning to face Andrés.
“She was asking for help,” he said quickly, his voice hitching. “I was just saying—”
Andrés took a menacing step toward him. “You were threatening her. You were looking at her. I told you not to look at her. You’re lucky she’s covered. Do you know what I do to men who look at what’s mine?”
The boy shook his head and retreated back into the bedroom, moving toward me. He didn’t make it two steps before Andrés’ hand closed around his upper arm, vice-like. He jerked the boy’s body toward his, getting into his personal space.
“Look at her again, and you’ll lose an eye,” Andrés said softly. “Threaten her again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. You’re relieved of your duties. Never come into my quarters again.”
He nodded, but he couldn’t seem to manage to speak. Andrés released him, pushing him away in disgust.
“Leave,” he bit out.
The boy hastened to comply, practically tripping over his feet to get to his cart and out of the bedroom. He disappeared further into the suite, Andrés’ imposing form blocking my view.
I couldn’t have watched him leave, anyway. All my focus was on the terrifying man who’d just threatened to mutilate and murder one of the men who worked for him. Lauren had said Andrés was nice. The woman was obviously even more warped than I’d imagined. My captor radiated cold fu
ry, his scarred face twisted in anger.
I shrank back, scooting across the bed until the chain jerked at my collar.
He sucked in a deep breath, and his fierce countenance eased as his eyes focused on my fearful expression. He took a step toward me, and I tried to move farther away. But all I accomplished was pulling at the leather around my neck. There was nowhere to go, no way to escape.
He reached for me, and I flinched. That didn’t seem to concern him. He cupped my cheek in his big hand, hooking his thumb beneath my jaw so I couldn’t look away.
“Calm, cosita,” he murmured, stroking my hair with his free hand. “You’re safe. He won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not worried about him,” I said shrilly. “You’re the one who just calmly threatened to cut out someone’s eye. And I’m chained to your bed. Naked. I’m freaking afraid of you.” I brought my hands up to push him away, but he caught my wrists and pinned them behind me at the small of my back. He held them there with one hand and resumed stroking my hair.
“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for threatening you,” Andrés responded. “I ordered him not to speak to you or look at you. He did both. I can’t have a man in my organization who thinks he can disobey me.”
“So you murder anyone who defies you?” I asked, my voice shaking. I’d defied him. I’d tried to kill him.
“I will never harm you, Samantha,” he said in reassuring tones as he continued to pet me. “No matter how defiant you may be.” A smile ghosted around his lips.
“But you spanked me,” I argued. “You said you want to punish me.”
“Only to correct your misbehavior,” he said, sounding as though it were the most rational response in the world. “I’d never do anything that would damage you. But yes, I won’t hesitate to punish you when you deserve it.”
“I don’t deserve any of this,” I countered hotly, struggling uselessly against his grip.
His gaze turned inward, his lips thinning. “Maybe not. But you’re mine now, and there’s no going back. I’m keeping you, and you’re my responsibility.”