Decoding Darkness

by Marissa Farrar

  Kingsley released me, allowing me to go to Isaac. A few fast paces brought me in front of him. He caught my face in both hands and kissed me in a way he never had before, deep and intense, as though I was the love of his life who he hadn’t seen for months on end. I kissed him in return, my fingers lacing around the back of his neck, into the soft, silky strands of his hair. I didn’t care that the others were all watching; why would I? I’d kiss any of them in exactly the same way.

  A body pressed up behind me, sandwiching me between Isaac. The gentle brush of fingertips scooped my hair away from the back of my neck. Warm lips placed soft kisses to my nape, and I shivered in the best way possible. Who did the kisses belong to? Lorcan? Alex? Kingsley? Clay?

  I stopped kissing Isaac long enough to glance over my shoulder. Blue eyes, tall, lanky frame.

  Alex.

  He gave me a smile that was almost apologetic, and I reached behind me to pull him closer, dragging his hips against the small of my back, to show him it was okay.

  But someone else caught my hand, and my fingers were pressed to soft, full lips. I glanced over to see Kingsley with his mouth to my hand, and, as I watched, he drew my middle finger into his mouth, grating at it gently with his teeth, swirling his hot wet tongue around the tip. The sight and sensations sent a pulse of desire through me, heat pooling between my thighs. I still had Isaac pressing against me from the front, Alex behind. Alex’s kisses drifted across my neck, but then I realized someone else had joined him—Lorcan. Alex was kissing one side of my neck, Lorcan the other.

  Isaac tipped my chin up to him, and kissed me again.

  Then Clay was there, too, on the opposite side from Kingsley, kissing the back of my hand and up my arm.

  A little moan of pleasure escaped my lips. This was how I’d always fantasized about this happening, all five guys on me at once, their hands caressing me, their mouths kissing, tasting, licking. I could feel the hardness of Isaac’s erection pressing into my stomach as his tongue pushed into my mouth, and Lorcan’s cock was rigid against my left hip, Alex, being taller, ground himself against the dip of my waist. I wanted to have them all, in my hands, my mouth, inside me. Everywhere. Using me, taking me, making me theirs.

  Only, this wasn’t real, was it? This wasn’t really happening.

  The thought sent something like a jolt of electricity through me. Why did I think that? Of course it was real.

  And yet something had resonated within me, something deep in my brain picking up on that thought and clinging to it like a drowning man at a life raft.

  “It’s okay, Darc,” Alex said between kisses. “We’re here. We came for you.”

  But the sense of unease didn’t fade, and I found myself pulling away, trying to shrug him off, but I couldn’t. Each of the men pressed in on every side, trapping me between them. What was happening? Something was very wrong. My pulse began to race, and, instead of feeling sexy and protected, I only felt claustrophobic and trapped. Yes, trapped. That was what I was.

  “No, please, you have to let me go. Something’s wrong.”

  I pushed against Isaac, but he didn’t budge. “Stop it, love. We’re here, we have you now.”

  I shook my head, tears pouring down my cheeks. “No, this is all wrong. All of it. You haven’t come for me. You left me. You never came!”

  I BURST FROM SLEEP, gasping for breath, and already sitting upright on the thin, dirty mattress. The first thing I became aware of was the throbbing in my hand. The second was that my face was wet with tears.

  I’d been crying in my sleep.

  My chest ached at the realization none of the guys was here. Had they given up on me completely? Or did they simply not know where I was?

  I lifted my good hand and touched the tracker still behind my ear. How many hours had passed since I’d handed myself over to Hollan? Twelve hours? Less? I had no way of knowing the time, but either way, Isaac and the others should have reached me by now.

  Unless something bad had happened to them? A twinge of worry and guilt went through me. I hadn’t considered that before. What if Hollan had already predicted Isaac and the rest of the guys would come after me, and had put plans in place to prevent that from happening? He might have others lying in wait on the road, ready to take out the entire van and everyone inside it. I’d been thinking about myself this entire time, but what if my hopes for rescue were pointless because the guys were already dead?

  Ice water rushed through my veins at the thought. My dream clung to me, and I was filled with a sudden desperation to lie back down on the dirty mattress and vanish into my dream world again, to hang onto the men—or at least my illusion of them. The thought of them being dead made me want to curl up into a ball and give up. What would be the point in carrying on fighting if they were never going to come?

  The pull of despair tried to drag me under, but I fought against it. My mind was doing cruel things to me again, and I needed to think more rationally.

  If the guys were dead, I was sure Hollan would have crowed about it. Hell, he’d probably have brought the bodies here for me to see, just to impound my misery. I don’t know what I ever did to him to make him hate me—apart from having a father who betrayed him, of course—but his hatred of me felt personal.

  Even if I was in this alone, I still had to make sure Hollan never got the code from me. Perhaps it would be better if I did die. Then the code would die with me, and so would everyone’s access to the locations of the other bases. Yes, Devlin said it was vitally important for them to be able to contact the other bases in case of an extreme emergency, but they’d lasted this long without doing so. Wasn’t it better to let it go, and in doing so prevent people like Hollan trying to take them out? I knew Devlin would argue that it wasn’t, but I wasn’t so sure. The safety of those children was surely more important than the coordination of the job they were being raised for.

  No, the guys were coming for me. I had to keep believing that. They’d been held up by something, but they’d do everything in their power to find me again. I needed to stick to my side of the plan.

  I needed to find the flash drive. Or if I could get to the phone again, I’d be able to try to call Aunt Sarah’s cell. Just because it had gone straight through to her voicemail the previous time didn’t mean it wasn’t working. The phone might have run out of charge, or she might be in a different location now. There were plenty of possibilities. Hearing her voice again would help to renew my strength and determination. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to go on and live my life—a life far greater than I’d ever considered possible only a matter of a couple of weeks ago. Everything had changed now, and I wanted to be back with the guys again, and for us to figure out our futures from there—assuming we had one together.

  I swung my legs off the side of the bed and got to my feet. My legs felt shaky, and my knuckles were bruised and swollen to twice their size, but I was otherwise okay. Something else pressed at me, though, and I wrinkled my nose thinking about it. My bladder strained uncomfortably, and I knew I was going to have to empty it before I’d be able to concentrate on anything else. Even after all of the kidnapping, and Stewart trying to rape me, and the number of times I’d been bound and beaten, somehow being forced to use a bucket felt like the ultimate humiliation.

  I was pretty sure Hollan didn’t have any cameras in here, so that was something, at least. Even so, just in case, I picked up the bucket and took it to the darkest corner. I shouldn’t care about someone wanting to watch me piss in a bucket—if that was their thing, they had more issues than I did to worry about—but I wanted that tiny bit of privacy.

  I used my left hand to pop the button on my jeans, then pushed them, together with my panties, down to my ankles. This was going to be awkward, and the last thing I wanted to do was piss on my jeans. I felt horribly exposed and wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

  Using the wall beside me to support myself, I squatted over the bucket. At first, I didn’t think my bladder was going
to let go—I was suffering from stage fright, even though I didn’t think anyone was watching—but then a hot rush of urine crashed into the metal bucket, and I was able to exhale a sigh of relief.

  With no tissue, I was forced to shake off, and I quickly yanked my underwear and jeans back up. I didn’t want to stay in this room, especially now I could smell my own piss, on top of everything else. Otto’s blood, where I’d wiped it off my hands, still stained the mattress, and the thought of it caused a shudder to vibrate down my spine.

  I had to do something. I couldn’t stay in here.

  Crossing the room, I went to the door. With my good hand, I banged on the door, and then pressed my mouth against the gap in the hatch. “Hey! Hollan! You out there? I want to make a deal.”

  My stomach churned at the prospect. This could all go horribly wrong. So far, my plans hadn’t been working out too well for me, but I’d never been the type of person to sit back and do nothing. I didn’t want to have to face Stewart and Bryson either, but I needed to make sure Hollan had the memory stick here. The guys would be coming, and I wanted to point them directly to it when they did.

  “I can’t do this anymore. Please. I just want out.” I normally wasn’t any good at crying on command, but my emotions were already frayed, and I was hungry and humiliated, and in pain.

  “Hello? I know you’re there. Can you hear me, Hollan? I’m done fighting. You can have the code.”

  I listened hard for footsteps. Where the hell was everyone? Had they left me here alone? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, if they had. Part jubilation that I no longer inhabited the same space as my father’s murderer, but part fear that I was alone and locked in a cell. What if there was a fire, or someone else found this place and came in to hurt me?

  No, I didn’t think Hollan would leave me here unsupervised, would he? Maybe he figured I was locked up, so I couldn’t get into any trouble.

  Or perhaps they were simply all asleep. I had no clock or windows, so couldn’t tell if it was morning or night. I suspected it was night, but I could have slept right through and not realized. I hadn’t seen any bedrooms in this place, though. It wasn’t like the base, where it was equipped for people to live—or at least not that I’d seen. So maybe they’d left to go back to their homes? As far as I knew, Hollan was single, unless he’d met and married someone in recent years, and didn’t have anyone to go home to, but what about the others? I hated to think of Stewart having a family somewhere. That man didn’t deserve any kind of happiness, and I doubted he’d treat a wife or children with any kindness.

  But then I heard the hollow click of a door opening, followed by footsteps farther down the corridor. Someone was coming.

  I renewed my efforts, lifting my voice higher, pressing my lips against the gap in the hatch. “Hollan? Hey, I’m ready to talk. Are you there?”

  I waited for an answer, but there wasn’t one. Instead, the footsteps grew closer, and I straightened and stepped back from the door, my breath caught in my lungs.

  “What do you want, Darcy?” Hollan’s tone was hard, no-nonsense. “We’re busy trying to clean up your mess.”

  Did he mean Otto? Had I not been asleep for long, then? I’d always found it hard to distinguish whether I’d slept for one hour or six. It was the one time my synesthesia let me down.

  “I want to cut a deal,” I called through the door.

  I could hear the suspicion in his voice. “What kind of a deal?”

  “I’ll give you the code, as long as I get to be the one who enters it.”

  His suspicion deepened. “And why would you want to do that?”

  “I want to know what’s on there. I want to know what my father gave his life to protect.”

  “They never told you?”

  I knew exactly who he was talking about when he said ‘they.’ “No. Why would they? They just saw me as some girl who had something they wanted, exactly the same as you. Are you about to tell me what’s on it?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “But what if I gave you the code?”

  Silence met my ears, and I knew he was thinking about my offer.

  “Come on,” I tried to prod him. “It’s not as though I have a whole lot I can get back in return, and I know you’re not going to let me walk from this. A little information is the only thing I’m asking for in return, and it’s not as though I’m going to get the opportunity to use it.”

  He paused, and I didn’t think he was going to reply, but then he said, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “I got hurt. Other people are getting hurt. Honestly, I’m exhausted, and I just want this to be over.” I conjured my tears and took a hitching breath, sniffing. When I spoke again, my voice broke. “I still miss my dad. At least soon this will all be over, and we’ll be together again.” My words caused a swell of sadness to rise inside of me, and I barked out a genuine sob, before pressing my fingers to my lips to hold it in. For some reason, I didn’t care about faking my misery to Hollan, but showing him genuine emotion made me feel like I was exposing myself. Exposing my weaknesses.

  Only silence met my ears once again, and I stared at the door, wishing I could see Hollan’s expression and gauge his reaction. Was he giving a snide smile and shaking his head, already figuring he was onto me? Or was he biting his lower lip and frowning at the door, falling for my misery and considering taking my offer? After all, they no longer had Otto’s drug to make me tell the truth about the code, and I had no idea how long it would take for them to get more—might be weeks, for all I knew. They could go down the torture route—hell, Hollan would probably even enjoy that, and I was sure Stewart would—but that also took time and would most likely get messy. And there was always the risk that something goes wrong, and I might die from whatever they did to me rather than hand over what they wanted.

  But then movement came, and, instead of a response, I heard footsteps fading away. I no longer got any sense of him standing outside the door. Dammit. Had I tried too hard? He hadn’t bought my little act, and I was now stuck in the same position, completely useless, sitting in this damned cell and waiting for whatever he decided to do with me next.

  From somewhere in the building came the bang of doors, followed by the low monotone of male voices.

  I let out a growl and slammed my balled fist against the door, before lowering my forehead to join it. I’d hoped Hollan might have taken the easier route, but I’d obviously put up too much of a fight so far, and so he didn’t trust a word I said. Not that I blamed him. I wouldn’t trust me either. He was now obviously leaving me here to stew before he decided which parts of me he started cutting off first to get me to give up the code.

  But on the other side of the door, something changed.

  My stomach flipped, and I lifted my forehead back up. Both the footsteps and the voices seemed to be getting closer. Hollan was coming back.

  My heart pattered in my chest, and I snatched a breath as I took a step back. From what I could hear, the men had reached the door and were now paused on the other side.

  The lock was pushed back with a crack.

  Chapter Twelve

  The door opened to reveal Hollan. Stewart and Bryson lurked in the corridor close behind. The sight of Stewart turned my stomach, but I wasn’t going to let them see they’d fazed me.

  Remembering I was supposed to be brokenhearted and contemplating my own mortality, I swiped at the tears on my face with my hand and lowered my gaze to look at the floor. Inside, however, my heart thrummed in anticipation. If Hollan was going to take me to the memory stick, didn’t it mean the stick was in this building? I’d have done what I’d planned when I’d first made the decision to hand myself over to Hollan in return for Aunt Sarah. I’d planned to find the location of the flash drive, and now that plan was about to come to fruition. I hadn’t quite figured out what I’d do when I was faced with the memory stick, but I’d have to work that out. Right now, destroying it seemed like the best option, though I doubted
I’d be given the opportunity, and I knew Isaac, Devlin, and the others would be hugely disappointed in me if they found out that was what I’d done.

  Worry wound its way across my heart. Would it mean the end of my time with Isaac and the guys? If they discovered I’d deliberately damaged the memory stick, would they call it a day on their relationships with me? I’d have taken away the only chance they’d ever find the locations of bases like theirs. Surely that would be unforgivable?

  I didn’t know why I was worrying about it. I doubted Hollan would let me live long enough to continue whatever was going on between me and the guys. That seriously needed to be the least of my worries right now.

  A thought occurred to me. My father had designed the code so if it were entered incorrectly, all the information would be wiped from the memory stick. All I needed to do was give Hollan the wrong number, and he’d wipe the memory stick himself. I wondered why he hadn’t considered the possibility of me doing such a thing. Was it because he believed my loyalty to the guys was stronger than my will to bring this whole thing to an end? Or was it because he’d simply kill me if I did such a thing?

  No, Hollan thought I wanted to know what was on the drive, too. If I wanted that, I needed to give him the correct code. Putting in the wrong one would wipe the information from me as well.

  Hollan jerked his chin to tell me to step forward.

  Stewart also took a step toward me, but Hollan put out his hand to stop him. “She’s coming willingly this time, aren’t you, Darcy?”

  I kept my head down, my eyes training on the ground. I nodded. Honestly, it was enough to agree to it just to keep Stewart’s damned hands off me.

  “Good,” Hollan said.

  They all turned, walking down the corridor, with Hollan leading the way. I wondered what had happened to Otto. Had he left this place now? Gone to get some proper medical attention? I hoped he had. Yes, he’d tried to inject me, and was working for Hollan, but if he hadn’t saved me from Stewart, I thought I’d most likely be a changed person right now. A woman didn’t live through something like that—if they even survived—and not come out of it with something inside her fundamentally broken. A different kind of man would have conceded that I deserved everything coming to me after I’d cut up his face, but Otto hadn’t. He still stepped in, and though I had no idea where he was now, I was eternally grateful to him for that.