Natural Submission

by Carmen Hunter

  Chapitre Vingt

  This game was on a time clock, and they were both fighting against it. Sweat caked on Rosamma’s skin as she strained against the solid dresser in her attempts to shove it in front of the door. Where Guy disappeared to, it wasn’t a sign of defeat. Like a rat he was trying to sniff through his own security and find a loophole.

  It’d been thirty minutes, and Rosamma already exhausted the small amount of options she had to defend herself as impractical. The dresser shifted on the carpet by another inch. It’d taken her half the time she had to move the hardwood past the threshold. If Guy unlocked the door, he’d push through her small defense in seconds.

  A loud groan hissed against her teeth as her feet sunk into the carpet from the force of her shove. Then it was moving, gliding, earning a shriek of delight and relief as it locked itself in front of the door. More. Rosamma wanted more. Not even the great wall of China could put enough space between her and Guy.

  She was halfway finished yanking the king-sized mattress off the bed when the lights went dark. Sunshine still shone through the few windows carved in the walls. Hot sweat turned cold as Rosamma dropped the mattress and approached the door like a hissing snake. Her hands shook as she took the knob and it twisted open.

  Something took hold on the other side and shoved. Wood crashed against wood, the sound drowned out by Rosamma’s scream. From the slight crack between the door and the wall appeared a handsome man with silver eyes. “Peek-a-boo, I see you.” He cackled.

  “The fuck you do!” she howled, smug satisfaction overflowing her soul at the shock making his jaw hang open. He was so stunned by her curse, she slammed the door right in his face. It took no time for him to smack it back open with a slew of his own colorful vocabulary.

  Unable to hold back the yelp, Rosamma scrambled away and began yanking on the mattress again. Anything to make it heavier and harder to push through. But he was so strong, it was only a matter of time. His laughter echoed this thought as she stood the bed against the canopy frame.

  “Really? You think that’ll help, Rosamama?” he sneered, the nickname piercing yet another stake through her heart. The only one who called her that was Vittoria. Her own mother sold her to a man that kidnapped and trafficked girls. Why? No matter how many times she asked, no matter how much she told herself to focus, it kept slapping her out of reality. Why? Why did greed outweigh the love of a child? “I’m almost in.”

  Guy’s voice brought her back to the present, and what’s important. Abandoning the mattress, she made a beeline to the only weapons in the house not locked behind a keypad. Wood screeched as it scraped together, and her hand descended on one of the riding crops resting across his shelf of perversion.

  “Awww, what are you going to do with that, kitten.” He gave a maniacal laugh, and shoved again. The dresser slid to an obtuse angle just big enough to get the door open. With a shriek of adrenaline, Rosamma pushed the mattress - still standing on its side - off the canopy frame, right on his head.

  A loud shout escaped from beneath the bed as his arms shot out to catch it. Without thinking, Rosamma rushed up the plushy surface at a sprint, and grinned as Guy folded under too much weight. Breath held she took a flying leap into the hallway so he couldn’t grab her ankle on the way out. Horror movie rules were valid for a reason.

  “Rosamma!” She stumbled at the sound of her name on his lips for the first time. Her real name. It was like nails on a chalkboard, the emotion welling in her stomach wanting to spill out as vomit.

  Run. Had to run. None of the lights in the house were on, which meant… all exits were open. She pinched her eyes shut to remember what she saw on the helicopter ride here. There had to be roads leaving, twisting under the plush green canopy of trees, all but invisible from an aerial view. But which way would lead her to a main road, filled with traffic?

  Whoever found her could ogle her naked body for all she cared. A loud crash from behind spurred her into action. No more time to think.

  “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!” Guy sneered, banging against the wall as his footsteps grew faster, closer. Rosamma yanked the door open and flew outside. Tears sprung to her eyes that the world could look so beautiful and vibrant while all the hard earned light in her life was ugly now.

  With no time to stop and mourn, Rosamma ignored the stab of twigs and gravel as she raced from the personal hell that imprisoned her. Another slam of the door behind her signalled Guy was close. Every step he took closed the distance between them no matter how hard her lungs worked, and her arms pumped.

  Fingers tangled in her long flowing hair, the warm laugh of a monster brushing terror down her skin. “Where do you think you’re going, slave?”

  Rosamma gasped and spun around, a chunk of hair coming loose from her scalp as she brought the riding crop down as harder than she thought possible. It hit! Blood gushed from an incision on the corner of Guy’s eye, as he dropped her and howled a loud “Fucking shit!”

  She shuffled back, body trembling from the adrenaline fogging her brain. As soon as he recovered Guy would come for her with new resolve. Attack, she had to take the bull by the horns, and stop it in its tracks. Rosamma’s arm reared back, and snap!

  He blocked the other eye just in time, a red welt splitting the skin of his arm. “You little-!” Too fast for her untrained eyes to track, Guy lunged. Rosamma tried to bring the weapon down, only for a strangle hand to grab and twist her wrist hard enough to make her scream. At the sound of her agony, Guy applied more and more pressure until she was certain bone would snap.

  Then she was free, falling to the ground, but free. Rosamma hit with a loud ‘oomph’. Guy allowed no air to fill her lungs as he straddled her chest with powerful thighs. Blood dripped from a no longer perfect face onto her naked breasts and the half erection hidden in his pants.

  “Say thank you.” He breathed, gripping her wrists and pinning them. “Had you gone much further the guards I have posted at the edge of this property would have shot you on the spot.”

  “Th-thank you-” she wheezed, an impossible urge to cough burning her lungs as he squeezed more air out.

  “Not like that.” Guy purred, pushing her wrists under one of his hands before reaching for his zipper. “I have another way you can say thank you.”

  ∞∞∞

  Ekene felt high on the drive back to that prison/home. In a few days, Guy’s throat would be slit open releasing blood to pool under his corpse. And Rosamma would be free. Despite being caught on the property during a scouting mission, the mishap was a good thing.

  The guards were so focused on where Faraji’s men got in that they left a slew of vulnerable spots in their defenses. It had been a hell of a week, even if it felt more like twenty, but it was over now. He could relax, get back to Rosamma a little early, maybe make hard, sticky, painful love to her.

  His fingers flexed over the steering wheel as he drove up to the private properties security gate. Two men with some very powerful weapons sat watch waiting for his return. When he left, one of them mention Guy radioed ahead to clear Ekene’s departure. So the front door wasn’t a viable exit, it never was.

  “Glad to see me again?” he asked one man.

  “You’re clear to go through, sir.”

  So much for casual conversation. With two fingers off his forehead, Ekene offered a silent solute, and drove on. From the sky, it’d be impossible to see the fence around the property, or how massive of an area it engulfed. He followed the winding road, a pretentiously long driveway that led to nowhere good.

  When he rounded the bend and the bright colored house came into view, dread slammed a fist into Ekene’s stomach. First, he saw the open door, and the lack of lights. No power, open door, Rosamma.

  He slammed on the breaks and sprung from the driver’s seat. Hand shielding his gaze from the sun, Ekene scanned the grounds for any sign of - there! Torn up grass and blood meant one thing, a fight happened there. She would lose. Sooner or later she’d lose. God, did he reach
her before the sooner or the later?

  Snap!

  There, off in the forest! Ekene sprinted toward the sound of a large branch breaking. The closer he got the more sounds he could hear. Whines, cries, a loud grunting and demands for Rosamma to stop or behave. With a roar he broke through the tree line and tackled the first body he saw.

  “Whoa, whoa!” Guy’s hands were held in front of his face, but not even a brick wall could stop the first slamming into his face. Again, and again until a sickening crunch, and a flood of blood said broken.

  A knee caught Ekene in the stomach and shoved him off with a groan of pain. “Knock it off, man!” Guy wheezed, rolling to his hands and knees as torrents of crimson poured from his nose. “Fuck.”

  “Your cock is out.” Ekene seethed. The only explanation needed for why he picked up the thickest tree branch he could find and began beating Guy across the back with it. He collapsed after the first strike. With a snarl, Ekene stepped on his shoulder and kept him down. “I want my money back,” strike, strike, strike, “I want that fucking camera footage,” Strike, strike, “And I’m keeping the fucking girl!”

  Even through the pain, Guy laughed that awful laugh of his. “You and what army?” He cackled.

  “This one.” Colder than steel, Ekene reached down and pulled the gun Guy always carried from the back of his pants. “Getting shot in the back is too good for you.”

  Chapitre Vingt Et Un

  Loud. The ringing in her ears was ridiculously loud. Rosamma could swear it originated from two lightning strikes. Pop. Pop. Did that make Ekene Thor or Zeus? He stood above Guy like a furious god, smoke rising from his fingers.

  Except it was no mythical hammer nor lightning bolt Ekene wielded. No, his weapon was one all too human. A gun. That’s right. Guy had a gun? But now Ekene had it? Hmm… something didn’t seem to quite make sense.

  Why wasn’t there sound again? Oh, there was Ekene, his beautiful mouth moving. A frown tilted his lips into the most heartbreaking frown. “You’re in shock.” He said, the words slow and warbled as the ringing became a numb drone.

  Shock. Shocked. Yes, that summed up how she felt right now. The ache in her body and the crisp numbness of her mind mimicked an electric shock. Not the kind you get from rubbing slippers on the ground, more like the zap from a police-issued taser.

  Warm fingers tapped on her cheek to get Rosamma’s attention, and with such compelling green eyes it was hard not to focus. “We need to go hide. Guy’s men will have heard the gunshot, but the plus side is that so will mine. Do you understand?”

  It was easy to focus on Ekene, and him alone. Something warm inside her chest made listening to him so compelling. They had to hide? She nodded her head and caught a glance at her bare skin. A pink flush ran up her chest, and Rosamma grabbed at his shirt. “Some-Something to wear?” she mewled. “No Guy means… no Master, right?”

  A soft expression slid into place on Ekene’s face. “Right. No Master… unless you want me to be.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back, the pink on her flesh brightening.

  “Will you just give me your jacket!” she squealed, making a smile tick the corner of his mouth up. Much better than a frown.

  “Sh.” He cooed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Ekene let out a soft sigh and removed his suit jacket before sliding it over her shoulders. “Everything is gonna be fine, but I need you to be quiet all right? Just be quiet. You gotta be real quiet okay?”

  For the first time since the ringing in her ears began Rosamma felt a tickle of fear. What could make a man like Ekene sound so worried. By concentrating, she broke through the vibrating in her skull, making it hard to think.

  Guy was bleeding on the ground… Ekene still had the gun, and… his men would come for them. A soft whine left her Rosamma’s lips, but she nodded nonetheless. “I’ll be quiet.” She promised.

  “Do you see that?” A shout from what she could only guess was thirty feet away carried through the brush.

  “Yeah, the doors open. Should we check the house?”

  “Perimeter fence will keep her in, we’ll do one quick sweep through the building before fanning out in alpha pattern four.”

  “Copy that.”

  Voices and snapping branches. Rosamma tugged the back of Ekene’s shirt, urging him to hide in the trees with her. Terrified. But quiet. He pulled her towards him and pressed his hand to her mouth so she would be quiet and keep quiet. It was like a security blanket keeping her from being the stupid girl sobbing in a horror film.

  God, the movie was supposed to be over when the hero showed up. Tears filled her eyes as Ekene trapped her tight against his own chest. Without thinking, she stood on her toes and nuzzled her nose to his jaw for comfort.

  “Shit!”

  “She’s supposed to be a weak woman, God damn it.” They’d found Guy’s body.

  “Fan out, look for her and Caton. She’s more valuable than most of the other bitches Guy gathered combined.”

  At the announcement they split apart, Rosamma couldn’t help but struggle in Ekene’s grip from fright. How much further did they have to go to get somewhere safe? No, she was whining, and he told her-

  “Shhhhhh.” The soft coo brushed her ear. “Keep very still.” He said.

  Frozen on command, tears leaked down Rosamma’s cheeks as she continued to nuzzle his jaw. The men sent to find them were getting closer, closer, and closer. There’d be no stopping the scream bubbling in her chest soon. But nothing escaped yet. Not a sound. Because it wasn’t just her who’d suffer, it was Ekene. Her protector, her lover… her love.

  Hidden behind a canopy of leaves, her eyes caught sight of a man slinking through the forest in hot pursuit. He was closing in on them! In a second Ekene let her go to reach out, grab the man by the hair, and break his neck. The snap was no louder than a broken twig, but the fall of his corpse was louder than a thunk!

  “Fall back.” He whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her with him.

  “Herrick what was that!” A man’s voice called.

  The sound of the body crashing to the forest floor. As fast as he killed, Ekene darted out of cover and snatched the man’s weapon. Pulse visible on her slender neck, Rosamma couldn’t help but dig her nails into Ekene’s arm when they continued their slow retreat.

  “Can we run now?” she mouthed against his jaw.

  “Not yet. If we do, they will come after us.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  She nodded against his shoulder, her breath calming as trust began to seep into her bones. Eyes fluttering half closed, she let him guide her with the full belief he’d get them out of here. This was Ekene Caton God damn it. The best bodyguard in the world, the best soldier in the world, the best man in the world.

  It happened in a second. Ekene’s arm shot out, trapping her against a tree. He clutched his gun tighter, listening in for any movement in the brush. They attacked faster than Rosamma could comprehend. Instinct took over, and she dropped into a crouch, covering her face at the sound of Ekene (God she hoped it was Ekene) cutting down their foes.

  The noise got impossibly close, invading the circular haven of her arms. Something hot and wet splashed on Rosamma’s ankles, her wrists, her face. A soft keening sound left her throat at the sudden silence, and the smell of copper.

  “Good girl.” A man said, picking her up from the ground and beginning to carry her away. No wound leaked blood from her savior's body. Through a mask of crimson glowed the whites of Rosamma’s eyes, shock making her skin vibrate.

  “Ekene-” she choked.

  “Shhh.” It was him… and she was really starting to like that sound. “We’re done here, baby. We’re done.”

  Epilogue

  Guy’s body was gone by the time the police arrived on scene. The house was in flames, and the wreckage condemned as too dangerous to investigate. That didn’t stop the Caton family. But the Fire Chief wasn’t crooked, and there really wasn’t any information in
side the gutted house of horrors.

  Rosamma’s story became overnight news across the globe, and her reappearance sparked a new height in her career. Too bad she retired from modeling soon after her mother's body was found in the canals of Italy. Whatever. That industry sucked for all the reasons people said, and more. Hell, in another three years at the ripe old age of twenty-five, the industry would force her into retirement.

  Like she said, whatever. There were so many other important things she could do with her time and platform. Being an advocate against sex trafficking and stopping the bastards sick enough to do it being one of many. Her other charities were for children victimized by their parents. Used, abused, and thrown away… just like Rosamma.

  When Mama was found missing, she thought little of the woman’s disappearance. When she was found murdered, it made Rosamma more uncomfortable than upset. The only person interested in Violetta was Guy. It was confirmation of the man’s undeserved survival.

  Ekene supported her work, because of course he did. He also hated when she was out of his sight for even a second with that monster still on the loose, but that obsession was dissipating over time. There were bigger more important hurdles to cross other than a ghost.

  More than anything, what the two of them needed to heal from their ordeals was time. They already had the support of each other (and a very expensive therapist.) One who encouraged them to explore the depraved cravings that pervaded their relationship. Guilt and shame made it hard.

  But with the appropriate motivation, anything was possible. A purposefully broken plate, and a screaming match about something stupid was all it took to be over her lover’s lap, a belt in his hand.

  And now… Rosamma tangled her fingers with Ekene’s as they stared at the elaborate tombstone.

  Loving wife and mother.

  “Would she have been proud of you?” She asked, stroking his thumb with her finger. He gave a squeeze.