Beyond Ransom (The Ransom Series)

by A. T. Douglas

  Mark hits the light switch and pulls me up by my hair to standing, and I swear patches of my scalp have just been ripped from my head. A pathetic yelp bursts out of me as he readjusts his grip so that his arms are wrapped tightly around my midsection. The bruised areas scream at me from the pressure, my ribs feeling like they might crack at any moment.

  I find Leo’s frantic eyes looking back at me and can find no way to make him or myself feel better about this. I think we both knew this was coming eventually, even before Mark caught us trying to escape. For the first time since arriving at this place, I take a moment to speak to God or whatever higher being there may be, and I pray.

  Please let it be over quickly.

  Mark throws me back against the wall, jostling my brain around in my already sore and swirling head. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he whispers in my ear before biting my earlobe gently. I try to turn my head, but the grip of his teeth tightens, and I can’t look away.

  “Mark, stop! Anything you want. Anything! Just don’t do this.”

  Leo’s panicked voice fills the entire room as Mark’s hands are all over me, feeling up and down my breasts and waist despite my attempts to push him away.

  I feel a quick, hard slap across my face, temporarily ceasing the fight in my body. “You will cooperate,” he insists before letting go of me and turning on Leo. In one fluid movement he pulls the gun from behind him and hits Leo hard across his face with it. “And you will keep your damn mouth shut. You will not ruin this for me.”

  I gasp as I realize the door is open. Mark’s back is turned and he’s temporarily distracted and the door is just left there open and waiting for me to walk through it, but I can’t. I’m so completely torn between the freedom of the outside world and what I feel with Leo, but I’m not ready to give up hope. I’ll face whatever this is because I can’t leave Leo behind.

  Leo’s recovering from the blow to his face, his lip bleeding profusely. I give him a slight nod to let him know it’s okay. I’ll do this for us. We’ll survive and persevere and one of these days when we get the chance we’ll destroy Mark like he has destroyed us. We will exact our own revenge. I have to believe we will.

  Mark’s attention is back on me, the gun still held tightly in his hand as he approaches me. He glances at the open door just feet away and grins widely. “Good girl, waiting for me to return instead of running. I knew you’d want to stick around for the fun.”

  His free hand is instantly on my waist, his fingers working their way around to the front to undo the button of my shorts. His upper body presses me hard against the wall, his face nuzzling into the side of my head while he lets the gun linger up against my temple on the other side.

  “So sweet,” he whispers, inhaling my scent. I feel my shorts fall down my legs before his fingers work their way into my underwear. He feels around me, inserting his fingers into me just enough to rub me in circles that instantly makes me wet.

  I wish I didn’t feel turned on by this, that I could shut off the switch in my brain and tell it not to find pleasure in what this sick fuck is doing to me, but it’s impossible. I’m practically dripping by the time he’s done working me up.

  “I’ve been dying to try this,” Mark says excitedly as he pulls my underwear down to my ankles and forces my legs apart where I’m standing.

  My body trembles. Tears pour out of my eyes. I think this is it, that this is the moment when he’s going to unzip himself and enter me, but he does something else entirely. My brain barely has a moment to register what’s happening when I feel the cool metal at my opening. He plunges the gun into me, and I gasp in pain at the sudden intrusion.

  He grabs my ass and pulls it off the wall just enough to give me a perfect view of the handgun he’s forcing in and out of me, and I have to look away. Leo’s constant yelling at Mark stops as our gazes meet. I quickly realize I can’t look at him, either.

  So I close my eyes. I close them and try to picture myself anywhere but this place, but it’s a hopeless endeavor. It’s like this has become my reality and suddenly there is no other reality, true or false, to retreat to. It’s only me and this madman and Leo stuck in between.

  I need to be strong. I need this to be over.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask shakily.

  Mark’s lips are busy on my neck now, his free hand up under my shirt working his fingers over my breast. I hate that my nipple becomes erect at his touch.

  “Come around my gun. Show lover boy that I can pleasure you just as much as he can.”

  He wants my orgasm. He wants to take me there again, to have that control over me, and he wants Leo to watch every second of it.

  I glance at Leo, his face absolutely defeated. He shakes his head at me, pleading with me not to do this, but I think of the two of us together and living and thriving and I realize I need to let this happen.

  I’m already tainted. I’ve already made decisions that make me question who I am now. Add this to the fucking list.

  I grab for Mark’s hand that holds the gun inside me. His first reaction is to stop my advance, but when he realizes that I’m actually encouraging the gun further up into me with his hand, he lets me continue.

  The tip of the gun finds just the right spot, and my body instantly reacts with a moan of pleasure.

  Mark groans loudly. “Yes. That’s it. Enjoy it.”

  Heat flushes my face, and when the gun repeatedly hits the right speed and depth I tighten myself around it and let the pleasure pour out of me. My orgasm is quick and powerful, and I find myself panting heavily while the high works itself out of me. When it’s over, I feel like I’m right back where I started.

  I look at Mark to make sure he’s satisfied with my performance, but I see the worst possible thing instead. There is hunger and desperate need in his eyes, as if he’s reverted back to some primal state and his instincts are taking over all reason.

  “No, Mark,” I beg. “No! I did what you asked. I gave you what you wanted.” I try to squirm away from his grasp, but he keeps me firmly pinned against the wall.

  The gun slips out of me before clanking loudly to the floor at our feet. In an instant Mark has me flipped around face-first against the hard cement. I push off the wall with all my strength, but it’s hopeless. He’s too strong for me.

  The anticipation as he holds me there is too much. I know what’s coming next. At any moment his eager cock will force itself inside me and fuck me over and over until I’ve had my literal fill of him. It will be the actual rape I’ve feared since the moment I first woke up in this hell.

  I’m ready for it, expecting it, but the moment never comes. Mark releases me, picks up the gun, and moves toward the door.

  When he reaches it, he turns around and smiles at me, a sick look of victory in his eyes. “You had better rest up. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.” He laughs to himself before walking out the door, locking it behind him.

  I’m left standing there shocked and breathing heavily, my own wetness dripping down my leg in the aftermath of Mark’s visit that could have ended so much worse. I unsteadily pull up my clothes and look to Leo’s equally stunned face. There’s blood dripping down his arm from where he’s rubbed the skin on his wrist raw from trying to pull against the handcuff.

  “Morgan,” he calls to me, his voice trembling.

  His free arm opens to me and I run to him, collapsing into his chest, my body shaking from the fear and trauma it just endured. I’m too afraid to cry now. The tears want to stay inside me, protected from the terror and uncertainty in which I currently exist.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Leo murmurs into my hair. He’s furious. I can feel it radiating from him as he holds me.

  I shake my head within our embrace. “Mark’s going to win.”

  “No,” Leo says defiantly.

  “He has us both.”

  “We can be strong. We can get through this, and when the opportunity presents itself, I will kill him.”

  Leo says t
his like it’s his new mantra, his renewed purpose in life. He has set this goal for us, and I believe that he won’t give up until it’s achieved.

  “Why did Mark stop? What does he mean about tomorrow? What’s he going to do that he hasn’t done already?” I have so many questions. They’re pouring out of me at a rapid pace, and it makes my heart race even more just thinking about the potential answers.

  Leo continues to hold me close. “All that matters is he stopped.” He runs his hand in circles around my back. “And I have no idea about tomorrow. I only know about the ransom. I have no clue what other sick thoughts he has in mind.”

  I find no comfort in Leo’s words. In fact, they only make me dread the morning even more. The weight of it crushes my chest. My resolve weakens with each passing minute, and if not for Leo’s hold of me, I would be crumbling right here and now.

  “Just breathe, Morgan.”

  I can feel and hear Leo’s attempts at deep, steady breaths encouraging me to follow. My breathing matches to his pace and we remain there, holding each other for what might be our last night together or on this Earth.

  20

  Decision

  I feel like I’m being hauled off for execution. My bare feet shuffle against the cold cement floor as I’m ushered through the familiar halls of the prison back to the room where it all began, returning me to the place where everything is about to change.

  They took Leo from me early this morning, and the hours of separation from him have been difficult to endure. Though I know I can get through this by myself, I would much rather face the unknown of what’s about to happen with him by my side.

  I’ve prepared myself as best I could for the possible outcomes that await me. I’ve accepted that I may never see Leo again and that my life may end. I’ve hoped that Leo is okay, that I will see my parents soon, and that I will make it back home. I’ve prayed that I will survive and endure and eventually thrive again.

  I don’t know where it’s got me, though. I’m still here, walking straight into the horrible unknown.

  Quinn and I enter the main room to a bustling of commotion. The men are on high alert. There’s something going down, and it’s big.

  My chair, my tiny prison within this prison, awaits me where it always does, the spotlight shining brightly toward it. The stage is set. The audience is ready. They only need the star of the show, and I’m being personally delivered so that this fucked-up production can begin.

  As I approach the chair, my heart drops to see that the chains attached to the wall are empty. Leo’s not here. I ignore the tiny voice in the back of my head that tells me he’s dead. I have to believe he’s alive. If he’s not, I know this fight is instantly lost.

  I sit down warily in the chair, not fighting Quinn as he secures my wrists and ankles to its arms and legs. Then the wait begins. I’m sure this is part of Mark’s plan: tie me up and make me wait in anticipation for the big event he has set up for me.

  I take advantage of the opportunity to use this time against him, closing my eyes and focusing all my energy into calming my body and clearing my mind. This is my chance to be prepared for what Mark’s going to throw at me, and by the time the door to the room opens and Mark enters, I feel stronger and more ready to take him on and survive this.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was the bloodied, unconscious, half-naked body that Mark drags behind him. I can barely make out Leo’s face behind the streams of blood that cover it from gashes to his forehead and from his bleeding nose and lip. His dark hair looks soaked from sweat or blood or both as it dangles down in front of his closed eyes.

  When Mark approaches the chains attached to the wall and drops Leo’s lifeless body face down in front of them, I feel myself about ready to be sick. Leo’s back is covered in bloody lashes, the long, inflamed marks crisscrossing in every direction over the tattoo that takes up the majority of his back: a beautiful phoenix, the graceful and strong bird rising up from the ashes and reaching up to the sky. It doesn’t look like a phoenix anymore. It now represents pain and suffering. It’s an omen of death.

  Once the chains are secured around Leo’s wrists and ankles, the room quiets. Mark looks up at me, smiling brightly as if it’s Christmas fucking morning and he finally gets to open his presents. I want to smack that smile off his face more than anything. If I was out of these restraints, I’d be all over this man, scratching him and biting him and doing anything I possibly could to piss him the hell off even if he would kill me for it.

  I would do it for Leo.

  “You fucking bastard,” I say under my breath. The words slide off my tongue with so much hatred my voice doesn’t even sound like me anymore. “Haven’t you done enough to him already?”

  Mark leans down close to my ear. “I haven’t done even half of what he deserves for what he did to me.”

  I stare at him in confusion as he takes a few steps in front of me and turns around. He sets his hands his hips as he looks between me and Leo, inspecting his handiwork.

  My eyes can’t stand to look at him a moment longer. I instead divert my gaze to where my concern truly lies, to the bloodied lump of human being discarded on the floor next to me. A profound feeling of guilt washes over me as I look at the man who has been my only ally through this ordeal even though we started out on different sides.

  “You caused this, you know,” Mark taunts, “luring my poor boy to you and gripping into him with your talons, making him weak. This is all on you.”

  “He’s not weak, and you know it.” I find it hard to bite my tongue when it comes to defending Leo, even though if he were conscious he would tell me to shut the hell up.

  Mark makes no attempt to deny my statement. “You seem to have come to know him quite well in your time here. What you don’t realize is that I know him better, and that’s what made this all so perfect.”

  I’m still trying to process what Mark’s saying when he taps the cell phone that rests on one of the tables. It’s both frightening and relieving to know that in just a few moments my parents will be on the other end of the call and that we will be connected at least in this small way. It makes my heart both ache and warm just to think about it.

  Mark turns on the speakerphone and paces the room slowly while waiting for the call to connect.

  “Mark.” Dad’s voice sounds hollow, void of life. I’ve never heard this kind of anguish from him before.

  “Robert, so great to chat again,” Mark replies eagerly, a grin breaking out on his face. “I hope you have good news for me.”

  “The money?” my dad asks.

  “Yes, of course the fucking money. Or have you forgotten that I’m holding your daughter until her ransom is paid?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten.” He sounds lost and without a plan. My dad always has a plan. “I don’t have it yet,” he says, his voice breaking. “Honestly, Mark, I don’t know if I’ll ever have it, not all of it anyway.”

  Despite this news, Mark’s thrilled expression hardly changes. This man is crazy, absolutely psychotically fucking crazy.

  “Sorry, a partial payment won’t work. That’s not the deal. I expect full payment if you ever expect to see Morgan’s pretty face again.”

  Silence fills the other end of the line for a long moment before my dad finally speaks again. “I have almost half. It’s every cent I can possibly get or borrow. I’ve tapped out all of my resources, Mark. I’ll have nothing left if you take this from me. It will ruin me. Isn’t that what you want anyway? Can’t it be enough?”

  I drop my gaze to my lap. My family is broken. No matter what happens, whether I’m held hostage forever or I’m killed or I actually get to go home, none of us will ever be the same.

  “No.” Mark’s response is hard and cold. “It’s not enough, and I’ve run out of patience.”

  “Please. Give me more time,” Dad pleads. I can hear every bit of the desperation in his voice. “I’ll find a way to get you the rest of the money. Give me another week or two and it’l
l be yours.”

  “I’m done. Your time is up.”

  Mark pulls out the gun from behind him and reaches me in three long strides. He points the tip of it directly at my shoulder.

  He fires.

  The explosive sound of the gunshot resonates loudly in my ears before I feel the searing pain of the bullet traveling into my flesh and muscle. I can feel the scream erupting from me in the air quickly exiting my lungs, but I can barely hear the sound from my lips with the ringing in my ears. Tears pour down my cheeks as I stare at the bleeding hole in the shirt at my shoulder.

  My eyes are instantly drawn to the side when I hear the faint sound of chains next to me. For a second I forget about what just happened as my eyes lock with Leo’s. He’s startled and confused at first, but when he sees the grimace in my expression I can tell he knows exactly what just woke him up.

  Leo looks from me to Mark’s face to the gun in Mark’s hand. “What the hell did you do?”

  One step is all it takes for Mark’s reach with the gun to smack Leo hard across the face. His head lulls to the side, and now I don’t know if the tears streaming down my face are for me or for him.

  With my wrists still tied to the chair, I’m helpless to stop the warm, sticky feeling of blood dripping out from the wound in my shoulder, and all I want to do is get it off me. My entire body is shaking. I wonder if I’m going into shock.

  My attention is drawn forward as Mark crosses the space in front of me. I’m vaguely aware of the chaotic sounds coming through the phone call, Dad’s voice frantically asking questions while Mom wails in the background. Mark ignores the phone completely, reaching instead for a roll of duct tape. He quickly tears a piece as he’s moving back toward Leo and then secures it over his mouth.

  Leo’s still hazy, not quite back with me awake and in the moment. I don’t know how our situation could possibly get worse, but I have a bad feeling it will.