Savage Protector: Outlaw Justice

by Gayle, E. M.

  “Fine. I get it. My survival is in my own hands. Got it. Now let’s find Izzy.”

  When Houston tried to shove past Axel, he grabbed his arm and yanked him around. “I don’t think you’re getting this through your thick skull. What we’re asking you to do is likely to take months. Maybe longer. You have to be one-hundred percent committed to that and in order to do that, you’ve got to forget about everything and everyone else.”

  Axel saw the moment the light came on for his newly returned club brother.

  “And what happens to Izzy?”

  “If we get her out alive, she’ll be taken care of. We’ve already acknowledged the danger she faces. She’ll become club property. JD thinks she might even be able to give us some intel on her father.” He let that sink in for a few seconds. “You, however, will walk away from her. No explanation, no goodbye. You just disappear and cut all ties. She won't be your old lady.”

  “Fuck tha—”

  “It’s the only deal. We can’t risk anyone knowing you’re with us. Or with her.”

  “But—”

  “This isn’t a fucking negotiation. That is the only deal you are going to get. Take it or leave it.”

  They stood there facing each other for several long minutes, anger coming off Houston in vicious waves. Axel really wasn’t sure which way this decision would land and he wasn’t sure he cared.

  Yes, they needed to find those missing girls and soon, but using Houston to do so was a risky move. While he wasn’t normally risk adverse, he definitely preferred to have the odds stacked a little more in his favor.

  “Fuck you, Axel. You know I’m going to do it, what choice do I have? But you’ve got to promise me one thing.”

  “I don't have to do shit. But I'm curious enough to listen.” He couldn’t wait to hear this.

  “She doesn’t become a club whore. That’s where I draw the line. She’s not like that.”

  “Jesus fuck, Houston. You think we force girls into that shit? Every woman here is here because that’s what she wants. They all know the score and they don’t care. They like fucking Wrath or they just like fucking. Your girl will be no different. I can’t promise you anything because what happens to her will eventually be one hundred percent her choice.”

  “Except she won’t be able to leave.”

  “Only because she will never be safe. Because of her father someone will always want to get to her. Especially him. That’s her burden of birth and no one can change that, not even us.”

  Houston slumped his shoulders as if some of the fight left him. “Please don’t let her choose to be a whore. I need that.”

  Axel knew he couldn’t make that promise, but he’d promised his Pres to get him on board. “I’ll do what I can, Hawkeye. I’ll do what I can.”

  With that they shook hands and he left Houston with Tel. None of this sat right with him and he wasn’t about to sit around and celebrate.

  He had his own connections and he wanted to get them working on the missing Mazzeo girl too. The sooner they took control the sooner he could get Houston the fuck out of here. He wasn’t as eager as JD to bring him back in the club. Ten years was a long damn time and they’d all changed just as much as they stayed the same.

  Their fucking prince no longer belonged.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Isabella

  One week later

  With my back to the headboard and my legs thrust out in front of me I stared at the tiny tick marks I made on the wall. Each one represented another day of hell. I wasn’t sure if they served as a cruel reminder of the torture I had endured or if I should be proud I survived this long.

  When the two men grabbed me at the hotel I had no time to do anything. I don’t know how they found me there, but it made me sick to think I saw them coming. I’d brushed off that feeling in order to spend more time with Houston and now had to pay for that mistake.

  At the time I’d assumed they were hired by my father and I was being returned to him and my gilded prison.

  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  The house they’d taken me to could have been anywhere. I’d lost consciousness the moment they threw me in the van and covered my face with a cloth. By the time I’d come to I was already in this room. In this bed.

  As I looked down at the various bruises and cuts that marred my arms, legs and stomach a lone tear tracked down my swollen cheek. Everything hurt. My head, my body and especially my heart.

  I ran on my wedding day not fully understanding the consequences. I only knew I couldn’t accept the fact my father arranged for me to marry one of his disgusting business associates as part of some deal. What I didn’t know at the time could fill a book. I wasn’t part of a simple arranged marriage meant to bring two families together in a show of solidarity. Far from it.

  I was nothing but property, an acquisition in some deal worth millions of dollars.

  I knew this now because every time the man who still intended to become my husband came into the room, he reminded me — with his cruel words and his fisted hands. The bastard planned to get me back on plan with pounds of flesh and his insidious drugs.

  For a few days I fought. Until I could no longer take the pain. Then I begged for relief.

  My only escape is my mind, but I fear it won’t last much longer. The good memories with Houston were so brief they’d begun to fade. So far those precious days with him had kept me somewhat sane. But he had no idea where I was or who I was and I had no hope of escape. No one was looking for me.

  I wanted to roll over and bury my face in the pillow and I can’t. Every move brings a fresh wave of unbearable pain. Everything hurt.

  On the second day of my capture, he removed the cuffs and chains and told me to fight because it made his dick harder.

  I fought —to get it over with.

  Now all I can do is sit here and wait for the next time. I told him I wanted to die, but he said death was too good for a woman like me. I have to learn my place. Only then can I be of service.

  The door to the room rattled, causing me to moan. With the taste of blood still in my mouth, I wasn't ready. I pulled my legs up to my chin and hugged them as my captor entered the room. His visits were becoming more frequent and I feared they would soon change.

  Without uttering a word, he unbuttoned his shirt and laid it across the back of the chair. He removed his belt and folded it in half, grabbing the ends in his hand.

  I recognized the desire in his eyes and I wanted to fight against it. "Please don't do this," I begged. How could I not?

  "I see you still aren't taking your training seriously. I'll have to do something about that."

  The smile on his face triggered the urge to throw up. I turned away briefly and swallowed the bile.

  "I can't take anymore. Please."

  "You'll take whatever I give you until I'm satisfied you've learned your lesson. Then when you beg for my dick like a good little slut, we can discuss our future."

  I twisted back to him. "What do you want me to learn? I don't understand what you want me to do."

  "Exactly my point." He placed a knee on the bed and grabbed my arm, pulling me close with his bruising hold. "I haven't even heard an apology for the embarrassment you caused with your stunt on our wedding day."

  "You want me to be sorry I didn't marry you? You hate me. Why does it matter?"

  He moved so fast I barely noticed until his fist struck my cheek and pain exploded across my face.

  “Shut up you little cunt. You were never going to be anything more than a whore. You were sold to me like a whore and when the time comes I'm going to use you like one. Then when you start accepting your place and learn to please me, I will teach you to be the best goddamned whore money can buy. And once you’ve proven what a good whore you are, then you can beg me for more. Now turn over and get into position you little bitch."

  With my head throbbing and unshed tears of fear and despair burning in my eyes, I turned over and got on my hand
s and knees for his belt. I didn't have any fight left in me tonight. Maybe he was right and I needed to accept my fate. With my family out of the picture and Houston's memory fading fast, what happened next was completely up to me.

  Besides, I couldn’t hold out much longer. If begging for his dick meant the beatings would stop, what did I care? I didn’t think it could get any worse than this.

  I looked again at the marks on the wall. I think I was wrong about them. I don’t believe they’re a way to keep track of time anymore. Instead, I see them as an inevitable conclusion whether I fight the outcome or not. They are merely the countdown to my death.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Isabella

  On the tenth day of my captivity everything began to change. The beatings decreased and I met the nun, the name I’d come to call the woman who took care of me since I had no idea what her real name was. However, she wore a drab dress that reminded me of a nun’s habit so that is what she became to me.

  She came first thing in the morning to groom me and was the last person I saw before lights out. She controlled when and what I ate and selected the clothes I wore for Marco when he visited my room.

  That first night she also brought me a new kind of peace.

  When she first entered my room, I noticed she had what looked to be a medical kit in her hands.

  “What are you doing here?” I wasn’t expecting anyone until morning. She glared at me without saying a word. Instead she lifted the small box in her hand and began unpacking it on the chair next to my bed.

  First she withdrew a long thin rubber tube, cotton balls, and a small foil package. Those contents alone made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. But when she emerged with a small vial of clear liquid and a plastic wrapped syringe, I took several steps back.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, although I didn’t need to. It was obvious what her intentions were.

  When she said nothing and simply tilted her head towards the bed, I shook my head in denial. Whatever drug she had I wanted no part of it.

  My refusal to cooperate didn’t seem to faze her at first. In fact, she stood there with a mask so firmly fitted across her face I had no hope of detecting a minutiae of emotion, if it even existed. But my fear of being drugged to death proved a powerful motivator as I stubbornly refused to give in.

  Eventually she grew tired of waiting and she left the room leaving her drugs and drug paraphernalia behind to frighten me. I was about to investigate when the door slammed open and a guard barged through with the small old woman in tow.

  “Get on the bed and do as you’re told,” he barked, making me jump. By then my arms and legs were trembling and fresh tears were streaking down my cheeks.

  I started to ask myself what more could they do to me before I broke, but that question died instantly when the guard grabbed my arm and hauled me to the bed. He shoved me on my back and leaned over my body pressing me into the mattress.

  “I bet if you stop following orders, the boss will finally let the rest of us have a go at you. I’m dying to know what makes your pussy so special. Why is it only the boss comes in here, while the rest of the girls get fucked by anyone who wants them?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block him out, but his putrid breath bathed my face with every new word out of his mouth. I had to fight not to gag.

  “I bet you’re tight,” he continued.

  Fear so thick it blocked my airways made it impossible to fight. I didn’t think I could survive that kind of attack.

  “I’d like to split you open with my dick and find out once and for all.”

  My stomach heaved and bile rose in my throat. I was about to throw up when he suddenly heaved from the bed and walked across the room. “She gives you any more trouble come find me.”

  At the sound of the door shutting, I opened my eyes and found the woman back at my bedside with the rubber tube in her hands. Despair surged through me. Was this it? Had Marco decided I was more trouble than I was worth and he wanted me gone?

  “You don’t have to do this,” I begged. “I promise I won’t fight anymore.”

  She shook her head and frowned, but I had no idea what that meant as she wrapped that piece of rubber around my bicep and knotted it tight.

  I shrank into my mind as she continued while the horror of what was about to happen warred with escape. Maybe death was the answer after all. I hadn’t planned it, but I’d definitely considered it. Maybe dying would finally bring the peace and quiet I craved.

  By the time the needle pricked my arm I was no longer scared. Resignation had replaced fear. Finally an escape.

  But instead of death, I was given a rush of euphoria and calm that temporarily made all my dreams come true. Or so I thought.

  I certainly didn’t care the next time Marco came to my room with his belt. Nor did I care that I was now tied to the bed, unable to move let alone fight. Not even the guard who desperately wanted to hurt me fazed me again.

  My days became solely about the nun and her visits to my room.

  From that moment on there wasn’t anything I did for myself that wasn’t directed by the mute nun. The cold-hearted and very closemouthed woman who refused to speak to me no matter how hard I tried to get her to talk.

  The flicker of hope that flared to life inside of me the first day she came into my room quickly died. Her taciturn care became a new kind of torment as I breathlessly waited for more of the drugs that I desperately craved.

  I didn’t care about death or addiction. Only the dreams. They made me happy because Houston was there. He was always there…waiting for me.

  So I played the game. Obedience and cooperation. I became a willing doll for them to play with because I knew that if I was really really good, there was a chance I could return to the man I couldn’t forget.

  The nun seemed to know this and she played her games as well. Always leaving me guessing until the moment she either pulled out her special box or slipped out of my room without so much as a word. Each time she did that it threatened to drive me insane.

  I stared up at the nondescript white ceiling above me as the food she’d forced me to consume churned in my stomach. I didn’t really have to worry about going insane because I believed I was already there.

  On the days the nun did not bring her box, I begged her to help me. But we both knew that’s not what they were waiting for. It wasn’t the drugs I was supposed to beg for. They were conditioning me for something entirely different.

  If I wanted more I would soon have to beg for his cock. Marco never let me forget even though his visits were less frequent than before. I didn’t know what was going on or why I saw more of her than him, but I had a feeling my time was running out.

  Not just because Marco’s patience had worn thin. No. My reality was much much worse. I was beginning to think I wanted his cock.

  I’d begun to fantasize and I could no longer tell my truth from my desperation as I considered willingly dropping down on my knees to take his cock in my mouth or any other orifice of his choosing not only without complaint but also with a smile on my face.

  I had been trained.

  I was almost ready.

  I knew it. They knew it.

  The next time he came to my room I would beg and then pray for my sweet, blissful reward.

  He wanted me to be his whore.

  I was finally ready to become a whore.

  It didn’t matter that the fantasies made me sick. Or that the nun had to untie me and drag me to the toilet so I could empty the contents of my stomach. Or that the sound of my retching echoed through my head and drummed constant against my nerves.

  When I fell back against the cool tiled floor and stared up at the discolored ceiling there, I felt the one question surface I could never answer. Not why. I already knew the answer to that one.

  How? That was the only question I ever asked. How had this happened to me?

  My father was the most powerful man in Seattle, feared by all, a
nd I had been his princess until the day my mother died. Tears leaked from my eyes and slid down to the floor.

  My beautiful, beautiful mother with her caramel colored skin and soulful dark eyes filled with so much love for a--monster.

  I only hoped she never knew what really lurked beneath his facade.

  I didn’t. At least not then.

  I once thought he loved me too...

  Now I know better.

  I have learned my lesson.

  Now I am ready.

  Tomorrow I will be a whore.

  Chapter Twenty

  Isabella

  I grabbed the small glass next to the sink and poured a generous amount of mouthwash into it. I lifted it to my mouth with a shaking hand and swished the liquid from side to side. If only it were that easy to disinfect the rest of my body.

  In fact a little brain bleach would be perfect right about now. Because what I was about to do was the final straw. Deep down I knew I wasn’t ever coming back from this. Giving Marco what he wanted meant I would survive, but not all of me.

  I emerged from the small bathroom to find the nun standing inside the door with her box in hand. Startled, I took several steps back.

  Part of me wanted no part of her and her stupid box. “Leave me alone. I don’t want anymore.” We both knew that was a lie as much as the truth. My hands were already shaking with need and without a little more it would get a lot worse before the night ended.

  She stepped forward nonetheless and began laying out the supplies across my bed.

  “Why can’t you say anything? I’ve done everything I’ve been asked. I don’t need that. I’ve given in.”

  The bitch continued to ignore me and I didn’t know what to do. “What is it?” I asked knowing full well she wouldn’t answer. I flopped on the bed and bit my tongue to hold back my scream of frustration. I was too tired to resist.