by Sarah Cole
BINARY
A NOVEL
SARAH COLE
Copyright © 2017 Sarah Cole
All rights reserved. No parts of this publication or any portion thereof may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any matter whatsoever without express written permission of the author. The only exception is the use of brief quotations for a review and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to provide authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, and song titles within this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Cover Design: Sarah Cole
Cover Image: Shutterstock
Interior Design and Formatting: Sarah Cole
Copy Editing: Sarah Cole
ISBN: 1978258178
ISBN-13: 978-1978258174
Shatter the glass, step away from the crash
I am slowly suffocating from the weight of my past
No cure for how I feel nothing inside
'Cause there's no black and no world dark enough to prescribe
Born in blood
Somehow, I will break and destroy you
And reveal what was hidden in plain view
This disguise was designed
To deflect what I couldn't show you
-Dark Passenger – Motionless in White
DEDICATION
For “The Best Bitches.” You fine ass ladies know who you are ! Thank you for feeding my depravity.
About
The first time I watched someone die, I was thirteen years old. The second time, I was eighteen... The third time, I was twenty-six, and the feeling of blood on my hands brought me nothing but peace. My life isn't pretty or perfect – it’s cold, broken and the only thing I seek is revenge. It wasn't always this way. I was born into a life that little girls dream of. A life with a beautiful home, a father that gave piggy back rides, and a mother that would dance and sing with me. No, I wasn't born into this hell like many are. I was adopted by it the night that life ended. From that moment on, I was ruined. I knew I would never feel that lightness again, because now darkness is the only way I breathe.
Carter Linwood was a stepping stone on the way to ultimate satisfaction, but I got distracted along the way. I was distracted by the intelligence and heart stopping good looks, but what sealed my fate was the way he took control of me and marked me in a way no other man ever had. Men like Carter don’t just dabble in kink. They live it and bleed it, and drag you down that dark, depraved path with them. Luckily enough for me, I didn't have any further to fall.
pROLOGUE
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
ANIKA:
The gunshot echoes and the room falls silent for a brief moment, as I clutch my little brother tighter. Erik’s fingers dig into my back, but I can’t let him look, even though I can’t seem to look away. I hear more voices, and doors banging into walls upstairs and down, but they are barely audible because the sounds of screams are still echoing inside my head. Are they mine or theirs? I can’t be sure, but I can’t make it stop. I’m suddenly stunned by a bright light as the closet door opens the rest of the way.
“I got them. Yep. Little girl and a little boy. The father is in pretty rough shape – pretty badly beaten. It looks like he’s in shock.” The man says into his shoulder. His eyes meet mine, and I know he’s not one of them.
“Anika?” he questions, and I nod my response. I don’t think I could speak right now if I tried.
“Come on sweetie. Let’s get you guys out of there. You’re safe now,” he says holding out his hand to me, and I wish I could believe him.
I don’t move a muscle as I continue to stare at the splattered wall and stained carpet…anywhere but at my mother’s face.
“We really need to get you kids out of here.” The man says again almost pleadingly this time. I know he doesn’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here.
When I don’t make any effort to move yet again, I finally hear my father’s voice from across the room.
“Anika, go!” he says urgently in his native Russian, but his voice is so broken. He’s broken into a million pieces, and I don’t think I’ll be able to put them back together after this. I can’t fix this. Not like Mama would’ve been able to. She could fix anything.
“Papa? Papa!” I panic, finally struggling to get up while tugging my brother with me. My jeans are clinging to my leg. I look to my brother, noticing his wet pants, and I hug him tighter.
“Go!” my father says again sharply, and I finally take the police officer’s outstretched hand and he pulls us from our hiding place with ease.
“Don’t look,” I say into my brother’s ear and he buries his face into my shoulder. I’m only three years older than he is, but I know I need to protect him. Wrapping my free arm around Erik, I try to cover his face as the police officer guides me out of my parents’ bedroom.
With each step, I feel my socked feet become wetter and wetter. I don’t dare look down, but the heavy coppery smell in the air makes my stomach feel icky, and I try to fight it, but I can’t…
“Jesus!” Another person yells. “Get her out of here. She’s puking all over my crime scene.”
“Come on, pretty girl. You’ll be ok.” The officer that pulled us out of the closet says, handing me a handkerchief. He keeps saying that, almost as if he’s trying to make himself believe it too. I know he’s lying, though. There’s no way I’ll ever be ok again.
The front lawn swarms with people. They come and they go, and they trample my mother’s favorite flower garden. I watch as it gets destroyed and buried beneath bloodied boots, and I feel pain? Sickness? Anger? I’m not even sure. I just know I’m changed and broken. That’s all I can think about as the paramedics evaluate Erik and I. My brother will not let go of me even as they work, and I stare unblinking still trying to name this feeling. And I can’t come up with anything more than, empty.
“How old are you, sweetheart?” the woman startles me, as she checks my eyes.
“Thirteen,” I say, the word sticking in my throat as I glance down at my stained socks. I try not to cry. I have to stay strong for my brother.
“Today’s her birthday.” Erik mutters, offering his first words since dinner.
“Happy birthday!” the woman says cheerfully, but I can see it. She knows as well as I do, that there isn’t anything happy about this day…
CHAPTER ONE
Carter:
“Good evening, Mr. Linwood,” she purrs and bats her long, false eyelashes.
“Hello, Margot,” I respond giving only a slight nod and nothing more as I brush by her, entering the club. I’m here for one thing and one thing only, and it’s not the hostess giving me a hopeful and hungry look. No, what I seek lies deep beneath the surface, and behind heavy drawn velvet curtains that cover the glass rooms. People hear whispers and rumors, curious eyes pay to get on the list only to be disappointed, but it’s true… all of it. The sex, the taboo, the sin. It was born and bred within these walls.
The Obsidian Lounge is where people like me go to satiate their thirst for darkness and to quiet the beasts inside of them that crave pain, debauchery and degradation. To those on the outside of the circle, Obsidian is like any other exclusive, upscale club. Top shelf liquor, notable clientele, big price tags and overpriced furnishings. But for those with a big enough bank account, the right connections, and fortunate enough to be swimming at the top of the gene pool, the doors to every fantasy and nightmare are unlocked. While all of that holds a certain appeal to payin
g customers, I could give a fuck less.
Like I said, I’m here for one reason- to fuck the way I want to, and when I want to. Pleasure, pain, and control are the only things I ask for, and this is where I find them. It silences the voices that tell me I’m weak and powerless. Also, this lifestyle is easier than wining and dining a woman, only to find out later that she’s not willing to give me what I need. I respect that, but I don’t have the luxury of time. I’m a busy man. It’s not that I don’t want a relationship, because I do. I suppose I’ve just been married to my work for years now, and I don’t feel like wasting time with someone that I’m not compatible with. And I’m never compatible. To them it’s a game- a kink, but for me it’s a need. I need control because I know what it’s like to have none.
Never again.
“Mr. Linwood,” Ray, the club owner greets me with a handshake and a smile that I return.
“Ray. How are you?”
“Doing well, thanks. Reconsidering my offer on buying into the club yet?” he asks with a conspiratorial wink.
“Not in the portfolio plan, I’m afraid. Still investing in R&D for Lintech. Maybe sometime soon though.” I say.
“That big breakthrough?”
“Something like that,” I laugh easily, not wanting to give away just how close we are to the breakthrough he just mentioned. “Listen, I’d love to talk, but I’ve got an appointment to keep. I pat him on the shoulder.
“Understood. You take care, Carter, and I’ll see you soon.”
“Alright, man. You too.” I stride off already picturing the things I’m going to do to Gia tonight. I can’t decide yet if she’s just getting suspended or if she’s getting tied up as well.
I crave this.
I need it.
I can’t explain the allure other than power – raw, unfiltered power. When someone submits to your will so completely, it electrifies every nerve ending in your body. There’s nothing I love more than watching a woman bend until she breaks. It’s fucking beautiful.
I slip the shiny key into the black glass door, and push it open to find Gia lying naked on the bed, her golden hair laying haphazardly against the black velvet.
“Good,” I praise her. “Just how hard do you like it, Gia?” I glance at her as I loosen my tie and cuff links.
“How hard do you want to give it to me?” she shoots back in an innocent tone, and while I like her fire, it doesn’t really do much for me. Maybe because I’ve done this same thing more times than I can count, or maybe I’m too distracted by work still. Knowing that this is supposed to be my distraction, I push all of it from my head and just focus on the woman spread out in front of me.
“Get on your knees, Gia, and come here.” She does as she’s told eagerly, and I see the want in her eyes. “Undress me.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, and I cringe. That should be hot, but it isn’t. Sure, I want submission and control, but I’m not her master. That’s not really my thing and the nicknames just seem a bit too cliché at this point. I want to hear my name on their lips. I want them to know who’s making them moan. I want them knowing who’s in charge.
“Call me by my name or nothing at all,” I command as she rids me of my shirt and pants, leaving me in nothing but my boxers.
“Those too.” I nod to the only article of clothing left. She leans forward, taking the waistband of my boxers in her teeth, and works them down my body. Something about the way she follows my orders so readily, gets me hard.
Once the fabric hits the floor and is kicked aside she asks, “Now what?”
“Now you suck my cock until I tell you to stop.” She smiles at my harsh words.
God, I love my life… but as her painted lips slide down my aching cock, something in my head screams that this isn’t ever going to be enough.
Anika:
My phone’s vibration rattles loudly against my glass desktop as it rings for the seventh time in a row. I spare it a cursory glance, although, I don’t need to because I already know who’s calling. I’m not sure what he wants, but I certainly don’t care. I’m finished with Braxton Fortner. We had our fun for a few weeks, but in the end, he couldn’t give me what I need, and I certainly couldn’t be what he wanted. We parted ways and were done… until now apparently.
I check the time in the corner of my computer screen and rub my eyes when I realize that it’s already after ten o’clock. Rolling my neck to alleviate some of the tension in my shoulders, I hit a combination of keys and finish coding some scripts for a website I’m building. I’ve been at this for hours, and thank God, I’m nearly done. This pedestrian shit is mind numbing. I code another simple loop, waiting to see if it runs like it should, and it does. Of course, it does – because I’m the best.
I don’t even remember my employees going home, but that must have been hours ago. After everything finishes, I reboot my machine for the system update that will happen at midnight- just like it does every patch Tuesday. Sliding on my leather jacket, I grab my phone and bag and lock the frosted glass doors to my offices. I run a small web-design firm, and honestly at this point, it practically runs itself. My five employees are amazing at what they do, and we have a steady client base, but let’s face it. It’s safe…and boring, and boring creates the itch to deviate.
To be bad.
Exiting the building, I breathe deeply, inhaling the damp and foggy Seattle air. I both hate and love it here. I like the solitude and anonymity that a big city affords you, but at the same time, the rain soaked streets of this city hold nothing but nightmares and heartache for me. My heels click on the parking garage floor as I seek out my Ducati. I’ve barely begun to swing my leg over the soft leather seat when I hear several pairs of footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.
Three men in black masks swiftly approach, and my heart begins to race. Who knows what the hell they want, but I might finally get to scratch that itch.
“Son of a bitch.” I curse between gritted teeth, as I take in their size. I know my only chance is to get my ass out of here because fighting three guys that big certainly isn’t an option when you’re my size -even with all of my training. I struggle to keep myself as calm as possible and I hit the start button. I rev her up, tires burning against the polished concrete, desperate to make my escape. So focused on the three men behind me, I almost don’t see the black SUV barreling towards me. It turns abruptly coming to a stop, completely blocking my escape. Another man jumps out of the passenger seat as I slam on the brakes, my back tire lifting from the pavement before slamming back down.
“You’re coming with us.” He says, but its muffled through his black ski mask.
“The hell I am…” I say, noticing the handicapped access to the sidewalk outside. I turn my wheel slightly, and accelerate. I begin to move when a fifth guy appears from nowhere, looking like WWE Smackdown wrestler, and clotheslines me off my bike. I stop when I’m slammed to the pavement, but it continues on, ramping the sidewalk before falling over sideways on a parking block. I spring back to my feet before they can descend upon me.
Now I’m just pissed. That was a custom, matte black paint job. They have me surrounded, and yeah, I know they’ll be able to take me down easily, but I know I’m fast. I also won’t go willingly without putting up one hell of a fight.
A couple of the men begin to grab me, but I seem to stun them when I land a couple of well-placed punches to the first guy, probably breaking his nose. I can’t tell because of his mask. I spin to place a kick square in the second’s stomach, causing him to stumble back and curse under his breath. No doubt, it probably hurt like a bitch considering the heels of my leather boots. We continue to dance around each other for a moment when the other guys seem to get tired of waiting. They descend upon me, but I continue to rain blow after blow. I barely register their hands or their attempts to knock me out. We’re just a mass of tangled limbs and grunting when I’m finally thrown to the ground, my head cracking unnaturally against the pavement.
“You’re a to
ugh little bitch, aren’t you?” one of the guys taunts in my ear, and struggle again, even though I know its futile now. The blood is pounding in my ears and I recognize the wet tickle of blood as it drips from my nose.
“You made me wreck my bike.” I offer.
“What do you even want?” I grit through my teeth, struggling with the heavy weight of several bodies on mine.
“You’ll see soon enough, pretty girl.” One of them says with a Russian accent. It is all too familiar, and I feel the hairs on my neck raise. I figured it was only a matter of time.
I am unable to even get in a response when I feel a sharp prick in the back of my neck and something slide over my face. The warmth spreads quickly and the moment slips away.
***
“How much did you give her? She’s been out for over six hours!” I hear a familiar voice, bringing me out of my stupor. My head is pounding and I feel like I drank a fifth of vodka.
“You should have seen her! She was pissed, and she’s a good fighter. We were definitely not expecting that. What else were we supposed to do?” A man’s dep voice replies.
“Still dumbass, I told you to use it only if necessary to subdue her… not to tranquilize her like a God damn elephant.”
I try to move my neck, but I feel sluggish. The scratchy fabric weighs down my already heavy head, and just pisses off.
“She just moved. I think she’s awake. Take the bag off.” The familiar voice says again. It just takes me a second longer than it normally would have to place it due to my current state. Braxton.
Heavy footsteps grow nearer, and suddenly the dark fabric is ripped from my head. I blink into the dim light, taking in my surroundings. Metal walls with grungy rusted window frames. There’s some old machinery and shipping containers placed throughout in no certain order, and the best I can come up with are the old shipping warehouses on the outskirts of the city.