Graphite: The Carbon Series Book 2

by H. Q. Frost

  Kip opens the door to a room with a tub and Qara is sitting in the corner wearing a vibrant turquoise deel. She stands and I look away because she's unnaturally beautiful and it's somehow intimidating. When I look back, Kip's gone and the door is closed. I take in the room, noticing another door on the opposite side. Qara drops the deel from her shoulders and my eyes go to hers. The intensity in her stare is confusing but calming. The woman is naked. Her naked, perfect, literally flawless body is mocking me and I almost try to hide my shirtless torso. When she gestures to me as if she wants me to do the same, my brows shoot upward and I almost laugh in her face.

  "Uh…" I glance around again. "Can I shower alone? Is there a shower?" My sight goes to the tub that looks inviting. There's steam settled on top and that has got to be the most pristine tub I've ever seen. There definitely aren't any kids using this thing.

  Qara steps into the water and looks at me again, gesturing next to her.

  Oh, so we're supposed to have bath time together? I glance to each corner of the room for a video camera. Callum's sick ass is probably watching this live right now and just waiting for me to fall for Qara's weirdness and start humping her leg. She's strange as hell but with that body and face, it probably doesn't matter to the people she wants to take to bed.

  "Shower?" I repeat and point at the other door, slowly moving toward it.

  She does nothing but watch me, her body turning as her eyes follow my steps. When I get to the door, I glance back at her then pull it open. No shower, but it is exactly what I was hoping for. It leads into another room and that room has another door. Eventually I'll find an exit.

  I look back at Qara again and she's still just standing there in her glorious birthday suit staring at me. So I bolt. I slam and lock the door behind me and run for the other. Opening it, I'm lead into a hallway. To the right is a hall that leads to a wall and to the left is stairs; I run for it.

  "Mag!" Kip's voice screams from above. "Magdelena!" He's barreling down the stairs behind me but luckily Qara was a little slow on the draw so I have a great lead.

  Not stopping, I run down as many flights as it takes before I see a door that leads out of here. I burst out into the cold and my nipples harden to glass, reminding me I'm shirtless. The dusting of snow blows with the wind and if I don't get out of the breeze, I will have frostbite within minutes.

  "Oh fuck."

  My legs pump faster and I try to take in my surroundings. My head and heart pound with my steps and my skin is starting to feel like it will crack off if I don't find shelter. With no one on this desolate street, finding help is impossible. There are a few other buildings, none of which look inhabited, but when I see a building that doesn't look unoccupied, I pick up the pace. Fire and ice rip through my lungs but I don't give up. It looked like at one time this was a store front so I choose this building and shove against the door, praying it opens. With barely any resistance, it flings open and I trip over the threshold, plummeting to the ground. A burn rips through my elbows when they hit the wooden floor and the slap of frozen flesh against the surface makes a clapping sound. It feels as if my body just shattered and finally I give up. Someone grabs my hips and I try to scramble away, not able to get back to my feet, but I fight to crawl. Legs come into view and I manage to fight away from the grabbing hands and latch onto their ankles. I beg for help, but I'm pulled to my feet by Kip and he tries to yank me back to him. Flailing desperately, I reach for the man that was beyond the door. All rational thought is frozen and shatters as I cry for the man twice the size of most men and looking six times as mean. But I'm desperate.

  "Please!" I scream.

  He's not from here. His pale skin and massive build peg him more for a Russian descent. Broad arms are crossed in front of him; arms that could crack every bone in a man like Kipper. A wary yet angry gaze keeps flicking from me to Kip.

  "Mag," Kip's growl sounds menacing, but the man in front of us is meaner. And I hope that will be in my favor.

  Pinching and bruising hands beat into my cold flesh while Kipper tries to pull me from the building. Not willing to give up yet, I fight until I break his restraint and latch onto the big man. My force makes him wobble but he unclamps his folded arms and wraps one around me, glaring at Kip with a warning of pain.

  "Please, help me," I pant, holding him like he's a buoy in the ocean I'm drowning in.

  "Magdelena," Kip growls. "Let's go." The look on his face expresses his concern. Callum's going to kill him for letting his pawn escape.

  When the big man steps forward, Kip starts to back up.

  "You're making a mistake," he tells me and that worry on his face almost makes me feel bad for him. I don't want Kipper to get hurt, I don't want anyone to hurt anymore, and that's why I'm doing this. I have to get control of my life for once.

  Without force, the man flushes him out of the building then stands in the door and waits.

  "Thank you," I pant and lower to the ground to collect myself.

  Heavy steps vibrate the wood boards under my ass and when he approaches, I smile up at him in thanks.

  "Do you have a pho—"

  My arm almost dislocates when he yanks me to stand. My stomach does the wave and I stare into his face, realizing this might have been a mistake.

  "Phone?" I blurt. "Please. To call police?"

  Nothing about this man is gentle and when he starts to drag me toward the back of the room, I almost trip. A glance back shows the door I should run for, but I'm hoping he's bringing me to a phone. He pushes open what looks like a door to a storage room then shoves me inside, slamming it closed.

  I gasp.

  Stupidly, I gasp as if this couldn't have been predicted. Desperation can make actions mindless. I know that better than anyone. My desperation for Callum has put me here. I thought I was strong, but I was stupid to allow this to happen. Fucked up enough that I've turned my situation from insanity to peril. There can be no surprise. And the only regret I should feel is over never letting Callum go. He ruined me, warped my head, built me to be mindless when it comes to him. He made me into a pawn that moves forward on his board knowing what lies ahead will never come out victoriously for me.

  "No!" I scream and beat on the door, getting reacquainted with the bruises I have from the last barrier I beat on for my freedom. "Oh my god." If I'm not murdered I'll freeze to death.

  Old, dilapidated, and dusty shelves surround this room. There is nothing in here to help me escape, and a sack of rocks in the corner is my only means to warmth. With a heave I push the burlap sack over and shovel out the rocks. Using the holes, I manipulate the sack so I can wear it then sit on a piece of cardboard to help protect myself from the concrete floor. I need to dig, claw, fight my way out of here but I'm painfully exhausted. Mentally and physically.

  How can Kip be right? How can Callum be right that what they did is what I need to happen in my life? I comprehend their train of thought. Either I'm murdered or I fake my disappearance to protect myself and my daughter. I'll never see my sister or mom again. And now, it appears as if I won't see my daughter ever again either.

  Sitting directly in front of the door, I begin to kick at it with my heels. The door bows, giving me hope I'll be able to kick it down but when it's flung open and the big man is standing there, I skitter backward. He doesn't have to say it, but the look on his face is telling me to stop. Right now. Or feel a punishment I would never crave from him as I do Callum.

  Folding my legs to my chest, I curl into myself; he stares at me for so long I start to tremble. I've made a huge mistake and now I'm fucked. Utterly fucked. I thought Callum fucked me over before, but I'm realizing it's been me fucking myself since the beginning. I put myself here.

  The door is closed and this time I don't beat on it. I look around to find something to arm myself with because I think when he comes back, I'm going to be regretting this more than I already do. One of the shelves holds board games so I dig through the boxes for a weapon. Dice, cards, small choking h
azards, and lastly chess pieces. I fucking hate chess! With a screaming grunt I fling the box across the room and it explodes upon impact with the wall. Metal chess pieces propel back at me, one hitting me in the middle of the forehead and I howl as if that was more painful than what I've been through lately. I scoop up the queen and stare at the crown on top. It's not sharp, but with the right force, it could do some damage. Reassuring myself, I rub the welt on my forehead then encircle the piece. My eyes take in the mess and I bend down picking up a pawn. Opening both of my hands, I stare at the pieces, and I want to say I'm what's in my left hand; the queen, but I am the pawn in my right. I will always be the pawn. As if I have the strength to crush even a soda can, I squeeze my hand around the cold metal piece, envisioning turning it to dust. That will never happen. I'll always be his pawn.

  I cry so long my throat is burning and dehydration is making me dizzy. There is no telling how long I've been in this room but my flesh has a purplish tint to it. My fingertips have gone numb. This is the end for me and I'm ready to give up. I haven't heard a sound beyond that door but I can't trust he's gone, so I curl up and lay on the cold floor, hoping I'll die fast.

  With Kip at my back, I walk into the building he's indicated. It appears vacant but I hear noises coming from behind a door. Men laughing, seeming to enjoy themselves, so I head that way.

  When Kip told me she tried to kill herself, I knew I had to come, but I had to get through my son's funeral first. While on my way here, getting information Magdelena escaped and willingly ran into the arms of a known smuggler was enough to make me go completely insane. I've completely snapped and the gun in my hand will indicate that. A very dangerous man has taken my property and I'm here to make sure he knows you don't steal from a Carbon.

  Without knocking, I push open the door and there are four men playing cards. In the corner of the room is my belonging and she's bound at the wrists, tied to a metal shelf. Not only that but she's stripped bare and the paleness to her flesh caused by the cold highlights every bruise and dirt smudged against her skin.

  My jaw protests as I clench. There's nothing stopping me from putting a bullet into the head of every man in this room. Except Magdalena. If there wasn’t a possibility she'd get hurt, I would litter this room with shells. While I'm not known to these men, I'll leave an impression. I fire once and my warning lodges into the thigh of the man closest to me. Magdelena's yelp and the sound of chairs scraping across the floor are the only sounds that follow.

  Looking into the face of four men who have done far worse than I ever have makes me question my sanity. Clearly there isn't one bit left. Clearly.

  Speaking in Mongolian I warn them I will shoot and I don't fear death. My life is already coming to an end. It becomes clear none of them speak Mongolian and the thick air in the room is growing stagnant as I wait for them to react. One man finally cuts into the tension and speaks slowly in German.

  Kipper steps forward. "He wants to know our business."

  Pivoting my gun, I aim it at my pawn. The man looks back at her, his eyes skimming her body for too long, but before I fire again, he looks at me and speaks.

  "Acht acht hundert euro," he speaks and I wait for Kipper to translate that the man wants eighty eight hundred euros for her.

  My Pleasure is worth far more, but I don't pay for stolen property.

  "Tell him we will all die unless he hands her over," I calmly respond.

  "Cal." Kipper's tone wavers. He'll be the first I kill if this doesn't go smoothly.

  "Tell him."

  They converse and my line of sight flashes to Magdelena. The way she's staring at me is as if she's trying to communicate something, but all I'm reading is her pain. Whatever they've done, I want to remain in the unknown because I can't bear the thought that something vile has happened to her. It's amusing she thought I was the worst of her worries. Only a stupid woman would get herself in a mess like this, and I'm growing tired of the argument between her captor and Kipper.

  The man continuously repeats the word nein and that's a German word I know. As my father and his father before him, I will defend my honor the only way we know how. I fire twice at the arguing German then turn my wrath onto the three other men who are scrambling for the weapons they have on a table in the corner of the room. While I don't deal in illegal trades and bargains, I'm not too stupid to realize the world of trouble this can bring me if it's ever traced back. But seeing her in such a state of vulnerability has me signing my death warrant without thinking. Again.

  The stench of blood masks the cigar smoke and dirt that permeates the air. We are surrounded by death and I'm surrounded by fear. Kipper is into manipulation and self gain, but the man doesn't have it in him to do what I will for her. Whereas Magdelena finally has me projected in a clear light. I am the monster she’s always feared.

  Even if their blood is on my hands for her, I feel a satisfaction I'll never be able to explain. Carbons truly are monsters.

  Moving for her, she stumbles backward to get away from me, almost breaking her own wrists to distance us. She doesn't want to know what I will do if she continues to make protecting her this difficult. I untie the twine biting into her wrists and rub the raw skin gently before looking to her face.

  "Did they hurt you?" It was a question I didn't want to ask. I don't want that answer. But in a moment like this it was either speak or scream and I'm trying to compose myself.

  A verbal response doesn't come, but she slams against my body and her arms grab hold like she wants to plummet us both to hell. We're already there. I shift my jacket off and wrap it around her cold flesh that feels as if it's weeping. She's in the beginning stages of hypothermia, so I move faster.

  "Check the area," I bark my command at Kipper.

  "For what?" is his ignorant reply and I want to raise that gun and end his life. Put him where he belongs. On this dank wooden floor amongst disgraced thieves.

  "Anything that will be traced back to us. Footsteps, shells, anything."

  We'll have to move her and I didn't want to settle her into her permanent home without Poppy, but I have no choice now.

  Scooping her into my arms her trembling makes it difficult to hold her, but I wouldn't drop her if my life depended on it.

  The wind attacks with scorn and I try to protect her while carrying her back toward the building but she's stark naked except for my coat. My protection doesn't offer her enough comfort and I hear it the moment her tears start. By the time I make it to the building her hair is frozen to her face from her tears. I place her directly into the car. There's no protest as I set her into the backseat and leave her. My scream echoes like a siren through the abandoned building and I warn Qara of the detriment. We move quickly to erase our tracks and drive away from the building as if refuge will come. For Magdelena it will, I will make sure of it, but my plan has now progressed much quicker than I intended. If she doesn't allow this to happen, she will never be safe.

  The yurt isn't prepared for her arrival, but it will offer the protection we need for now. After she's settled I will have the construction continued. Carrying her in, Qara moves quickly to run a bath. At least the interior walls and loft have been constructed already. I may have a moment of privacy with her.

  There is no furniture or appliances yet. We're about a week early so she will have to make do until it's complete. While Qara prepares a bath, I hold Magdelena tightly as her body quakes in my arms.

  Qara walks out and her eyes meet mine before she nods. The first step I take toward the private room, Kipper grabs ahold of my shoulder.

  "Leave," I warn him.

  "You're changing the plan," he growls back and I lock eyes with him.

  If I didn't need the plan to go accordingly to protect her, I would tell him to fuck off.

  "Allow me a minute." It's not a gentle request, it's a demand presented as if he has a say.

  Not getting a response, I move toward the room and carefully place Magdelena on her feet. "Can you stand?" Her he
ad nods and I slowly let go. Turning back for the door, I step out to address Kipper. "Allow me to talk to her. You've failed once already."

  "And so have you," he spits back.

  "No. She ran because I wasn't here. It is you that has no control over her." And he never will.

  "After this, you're gone for good, Carbon. Or this is over." By that, he means he will risk his own life to inform my grandmother he's alive and I've deceived her. While she would probably reward him with living, I don't think he realizes the repercussions of giving away what we've done.

  I nod, because it has to be, not because he told me. Closing the door behind me puts us in shadows. The lighting is not complete yet and she will be living uncomfortably for a few more days.

  "Strip off my coat," I mutter, tiredly unbuttoning the top few buttons of my shirt. I'm exhausted and haven't been able to sleep for days.

  Surprisingly, she complies. Looking down at her hands, she holds her arms up and uncurls her palms. I approach to see what she's clutching and upon seeing the chess pieces, my eyes flit to her face. She remains silent, unmoving, staring at the pawn and queen that she's been clasping long enough they've imbedded marks into her hands. I sweep the queen from her hand and inspect the old piece. When she pushes the pawn toward me, I slowly take it and study them until she moves. Perhaps they were her good luck charm. My sight takes in the filth across her body, but my dick still begins to harden at her submission as she steps into the tub, sinking to the water. Her head falls back and her eyes close.

  "Did they hurt you?" I ask her again, placing the game pieces with my coat.

  "No," she responds without opening her eyes. "I was treated like a dog at the pound and they all observed me before placing bets. I was for sale." She lifts her head and starts to wash away the dirt from her arms. The once blue colored water is now gray so she begins to drain it. Before the tub is drained, I approach and turn on the water, helping her rid her body of the imbedded dirt.