17. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Quinn
I mope around in the bedroom, trying on my new outfits and counting the minutes until it’s time to go to Annie’s party. Anything to keep me out of the way of Jacob and his friend. Sebastian is pleasant enough, but I can’t get past how fucked-up the situation is, and it’s tripping me out.
The whole time he’s shaking my hand, smiling, and asking polite questions, he knows I’m a captive and doesn’t care. Soon, he’ll have a sex slave of his very own. I want to shake him and scream, “Don’t you see how wrong this is?”
People who kidnap women should be creepy disgusting monsters, not smartly dressed and friendly. Even Jacob fits the bill of a kidnapper in some ways. He’s got that dangerous, mobster feel to him. Sebastian seems like he should be working in a fancy law firm, having lunchtime cocktails, and screwing half the office girls.
What made these men choose this life? What is so special about this place that it made them separate themselves from everything normal?
I finally settle on an outfit. I wish to all fuck Jacob would let me wear pants, but I broached the topic with the same result as the first time. No chance. Not until I prove I can behave, whatever that means.
My new dress is white slashed with pink to match my hair in funky sections and stops mid-thigh. It’s form-fitting with long sleeves, but I add a tight blue sweater anyway because it’s still cold.
My chunky new boots cap off the look nicely, and Jacob gives an approving nod when he sees it, probably the closest thing I can expect to a compliment. He only seems to compliment me out loud when I’m naked.
The butt plug is driving me crazy. It’s not painful; it’s just there, and it makes its presence known every time I move. Sitting pushes it in, which reminds me that Jacob didn’t let me come this morning. The slightest shift makes me want to touch myself, but I won’t get away with it while Jacob is here.
Later, though? Maybe. He hasn’t produced the sinister device yet.
Finally, Jacob breaks off from his laptop. “I think that’s as good as it’s going to get.”
He stands, stretching his back, and looks my way. “I’ll get dressed and take you over to Annie’s.”
He heads into the bedroom and shuts the door. Sebastian lets out a low whistle. “Annie’s, is it? I hear those parties get wild.”
He winks at me before wandering into the kitchen, opening Jacob’s fridge, and taking out a beer as if he owns the place. He waves one in my direction. “Want one? It’s weird British shit, but better than not drinking at all.”
He didn’t ask Jacob’s permission. It instantly makes me like him, and some of my wariness disappears. I snatch it out of his hand before he can change his mind or Jacob can appear in that silent way he has and take it off me.
I take a long swig, then regret it. The taste is harsh and bitter, and the texture is thick. Like a nasty alcoholic milkshake.
I screw up my face, and Sebastian laughs. “Warned you. I’ve tried to give him a little class, but as you can see—” He gestures to the bare living room with its weird sporting memorabilia and Western posters. “—I haven’t been successful.”
I smile and brave another sip. It’s better this time, but not by much. “Is this really what he likes to drink?”
“Yep. You’ll have to try and educate him. And for the love of God, decorate this place, will you? I’ve never seen anywhere more in need of a woman’s touch.”
Just for a second, I can see it. Funky art on the walls. Plants and flowers everywhere. Warm lighting to make it feel welcoming. This apartment could be beautiful, with a little bit of effort.
But no. This is how it happens. I’ve heard of women taken from their lives who end up playing happy families with their captors. Becoming so enmeshed with them they don’t run even when the chance arrives. I can’t let that happen to me.
I’m saved answering because Jacob appears. And holy good shit on toast, I can't stop staring.
Big men usually look stupid in tuxedos, like nightclub bouncers trying to fit in with the real guests. Not Jacob. The way the tailored jacket displays his body is criminal. The effect goes beyond dashing, into fucking dangerous. James Bond on steroids.
It hits me that this man, who could have had any woman in the world—a literal Choose Your Own Adventure, “I’ll take that one please,” free choice—has settled for me. Not the girl he originally wanted. Not one of the other millions of more suitable candidates. Why? What made him do it?
Another question to add to the list.
I’m still staring. Bowties aren’t usually the manliest accessory, but the way Jacob straightens his, then smiles when he catches me looking has my stomach flipping over like a stupid teenager. I’d have expected him to look uncomfortable in black-tie, but if anything, it’s given him even more confidence.
I can see it now. The leader who was always hiding behind the rough exterior. I can imagine this man making a speech in front of hundreds of people without breaking a sweat.
“Take it I scrub up okay, then?” he says, smirking, and I pull my eyes away.
“Don’t forget to mention in your speech how you’ve got a captive woman waiting at home with a—”
I cut myself off. I almost said, “A huge hunk of metal jammed up her ass,” but Sebastian is listening, for the love of fuck. I don’t need to embarrass myself any more than Jacob already has.
Jacob raises a brow. “With a what?”
“Nothing.” I squeeze past his bulky form, heading for the door. “Can we get out of here, please? All the testosterone is making me nauseous. I need some female company.”
“Yes, dear.” Deadpan as ever.
The two men flank me like bodyguards as we exit the creepy, horror-movie corridor. What the hell were they thinking when they decorated this place? We head out of Jacob’s building, walk a short distance, then reach another, taller building. I expect him to use his fingerprint to get us inside, but he presses a buzzer instead, and a muffled voice answers. “Yeah.”
“It’s us.”
“Be there in a sec.”
The line goes dead. I ask, “Why can’t you get in here?”
Jacob takes my hand in an almost absent gesture as he responds, “This building is for full Brothers who have been through initiation. There’s a ceremony. I’ll fill you in later. Gabriel and Eve moved here a month ago.”
Gabriel. Great. My stomach erupts in frantic flutters at the thought of seeing him and Eve. At least I’ll get the chance to apologize to her, but Gabriel is another matter. He looked like he wanted to kill me when I attacked Eve. The pressure of Jacob’s hand on mine is comforting.
The door slides open, revealing an entry hall that is much, much nicer than Jacob’s. High ceilings and cleverly placed lights make it feel sunny, a big fountain dominates the middle of the space, and music plays through speakers. The color scheme is rich gold, white, and blue, and there are huge paintings on the walls in heavy frames.
It feels like a fancy, if a little old-fashioned, five-star hotel. Not that I’ve ever stayed in one. The closest I’ve gotten is working in the kitchens.
The three figures waiting for us in the lobby draw my eye. A uniformed military guy. Eve, in jeans and a pretty purple sweater. Gabriel, glaring at me. The hard set of his lips makes me question if this is a good idea. Jacob is a threat, but he’s my protector, too. All at once, being alone in this fucked-up place without him feels frightening rather than liberating.
Eve smiles her dazzling smile and steps forward, ignoring Gabriel’s muttered warning. “Hi.”
I swallow and follow her lead, shaking free of Jacob. “Hey. Look, I’m really sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you’d be one of the soldiers, and I—”
“It’s okay. It was just a bump. I’ve only been here a couple of months myself. I remember what it feels like at first. Don’t stress about it.”
A couple of months? She says it like it’s no time at all. To me, that feels endless. Months as a captive, and she says it like it’s no big deal?
Before I can manage a reply, Gabriel cuts me off. “If you ever raise a hand to her again, I’ll—”
“Gabriel. Jesus, no need to go all action hero.” Eve turns, pressing a hand to his chest. “She’s fine. I’d have whacked you with a toaster on my first day if I’d thought of it.”
She stands on her tiptoes, leaning in for a kiss. His whole face changes, all the hardness leaving him as he wraps his arms around her back. They look like the most sickeningly sweet, in-love couple imaginable. How the hell is Eve keeping up a pretense like that? She must be a great actor.
Sebastian makes me jump when he speaks in a stage whisper close to my ear. “These two are the definition of get a fucking room. It’s revolting.”
Jacob sighs. “If you’re all quite finished, I do have somewhere to be.”
He bends down to my level. Fuck, it’s irritating how much he has to crouch just to look into my eyes. “You’re going to behave, or you won’t like what happens. Say it for me. What are you going to do?”
Seriously? I can feel all four extra sets of eyes on me as I mutter, “I’m going to behave.”
“If there are any problems, call me, and I’ll answer. That’s a promise.”
He stands up, giving Gabriel and the soldier guy a glare I’m glad isn’t aimed at me. He looks like he’s about to threaten them with a spanking. “I’m entrusting Quinn to you two. If she needs anything, see that she gets it. If she asks to be escorted back to my place, you take her.”
He shoots his stern look my way. “If she tries to run from you, take her back to my place and lock her in her cage. Understood?”
Jesus fucking Christ. My face flames, and Eve’s eyes widen, but none of the men seem phased. Typical. The soldier snaps, “Yes, sir.”
Gabriel clasps Jacob’s shoulder in that awkward, manly way. “She’ll be fine. Good luck with your speech. I wish I was coming.”
“I’ll film it,” Sebastian answers.
These three are a close-knit little crew. Could that come in handy somehow? Maybe.
Jacob gives me one final long look. “Best behavior.”
He leaves with Sebastian, and my stomach drops as I watch them go. Eve must have seen my anxiety, as she links her arm with mine and leads me along the corridor. I can feel Gabriel’s eyes on my back. “Don’t worry. It’s weird, isn’t it, how quickly it starts to feel like the man holding you captive is the only thing keeping you safe?”
I snap my gaze to hers, relief flooding my system. She said it. She actually said the word “captive.” She’s not pretending this is some voluntary fucking adventure like everyone else here.
A sympathetic look crosses her face at my reaction. “I couldn’t stand the way no one talked about it either. Be warned, it’ll be like that at Annie’s place. We’re the only two newbies. The rest of the girls have been here at least a year, most of them much longer. They’d rather talk about other things, not their captivity. But you can always talk to me about anything.”
Her voice drops. “Especially the cage. Was he serious?”
Years? The other girls have been here for years? I mutter a reply before I lose my shit entirely. "As a fucking heart attack."
Years. What if they don't even like their…man. Their captor? What if he’s horrible? I give Eve a side-eye. Is Gabriel good to her? She doesn't act like she wants to get away from him—the “get a room” kiss sure seemed real. But all the girls here can't be happy. Eve can't really be happy. And some of them must be stuck with real assholes.
At least Jacob seems honest. Straightforward. He wouldn't be cruel just for the sake of it. But even so, I sure as fuck won't be here for years.
I shouldn't be so surprised. I didn't see it because I didn't want to. Annie has obviously been here a while. Shops like hers don't happen overnight. I thought tonight I’d be meeting a group of motivated women planning their escape. If they’ve been here for years, how motivated can they be?
Unless escape really is impossible.
My heart is racing, so I stop for a minute and breathe. Eve frowns but doesn’t hurry me. I stare at her, and something jumps out. Why didn’t I notice it before? Too caught up in my own problems to really look at her. She’s wearing a tight choker around her neck. On someone gothy like Annie, it could be an accessory but on her, it can surely only be a collar.
A goddamn collar.
Should I ask her about it? No, not with Gabriel lurking. Later, though.
The shock of noticing it has snapped me back into the moment, and I straighten my spine. Time to meet the others.
Eve asks, “You good to go?”
“Yep.”
We reach a door decorated on the outside with a picture of a black cat and the words, “If you don’t like cats, take your ass elsewhere.”
Eve taps it with a smile. “I hope you’re not a dog person.”
“Neither, really. I always wanted a snake but never managed to get organized enough.”
“Oh, you’ll want to meet Ellie, then. She’s obsessed with them. She’s not here tonight, but I’ll introduce you.” She lowers her voice. “How are you with meeting new people? I’m really shy, so it took me a while, but I’m okay with these things now. No one will mind if you’re a bit quiet. Don’t worry.”
Hah. The least of my worries. I’m more likely to spill out every inappropriate thought in my head in the first five minutes, especially if I’m drinking. And I’m definitely going to be doing that.
“Shutting me up will be the main issue.”
Eve laughs and knocks. “It’s Eve and Quinn!”
Annie opens the door, glass of wine in hand. From the pink in her cheeks, I’m guessing it’s not her first. “Come in! Most people are already here.”
I hover awkwardly on the threshold as Eve shares another long kiss with Gabriel. Get a room is right. He doesn’t seem to like letting her go, but she waves him off. “We’ll be fine. Go.”
“I’ll be right here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever makes you happy.”
Then she ushers me inside and shuts the door. “Sorry. He’s so overprotective.”
“I can see that.” I’d like to ask her more questions, but Annie already has her arm around my shoulders, ushering me down a little corridor toward a big, airy living room with music playing. The apartment is even bigger than Jacob’s. I’ve never been in a penthouse, but this is what I’d imagine one would look like. Size-wise, anyway.
The huge living room is decorated in a colorful, quirky style, with mismatched cushions and throws on squashy sofas and chairs. It’s homey rather than posh and calls to me right away. A big TV plays music videos, and there’s a massive spread of food on a low coffee table.
Seven women, all in their twenties or early thirties, are sprawled around, drinks in hand, chatting. A fat ginger cat occupies a whole armchair to himself. They fall silent when we enter until Annie flaps a hand at them. “Jesus. Don’t all stare at her. Keep yourselves occupied while I get the poor girl a drink.”
She steers me toward a shiny kitchen and pulls open an industrial-sized refrigerator.
Oh, yes. That’s what I need.
Annie’s drink selection is as good as a damn bar. Wine, champagne, and fizzy premixes of all kinds. “Here, grab what you like. And check this out. Jell-O shots.” She presses two into my hand. “To get you started.”
I don’t need any more encouragement than that.
Three Jell-O shots and two glasses of champagne later, I’m perched on the edge of the ginger cat’s seat. It feels rude to move him. Eve wasn’t kidding about these girls talking about anything but the fact that we’re all enslaved.
So far, we’ve chatted about music, movies, old high school boyfriends, and weird things our captors have said or done (though they don’t use that term of course. It’s always their name.) Anything and everything except the shit that really matters.
I’ve played along. They’re all curious about Jacob, who is a bit of a celebrity around the Compound, apparently. They laughed when I described his basic man-pad apartment and gasped when, after the third shot, I told them how he spanked me in front of Kendrick.
I have to admit, it was a little bit fun. Especially their horrified shrieks when I described standing in the corner, my bare ass on display. Even Eve yelped at that story, hand over her mouth. “In Kendrick’s office? With him right there? Oh, Quinn. I can’t believe it.”
Now, though, my patience is running low as Annie tells a long story about how she persuaded the man who holds her prisoner to let her get a fourth cat. Everyone is laughing, and it’s clattering in my head, discordant and just fucking wrong. I take another long drink of my third glass of champagne, and Eve’s eyes track the motion.
She leans over from the seat next to me, whispering, “Maybe slow down a bit? You don’t want to feel rough in the morning.”
I ignore her, take another drink, and interrupt Annie. Fuck it. I don’t need this polite, dinner party bullshit. “So. How are you all planning on getting the fuck out of here? I want in.”
Annie stops talking, and all eyes land on me. The mood in the room changes instantly, the happy vibe freezing, giving way to tense silence. The bubbly pop music playing in the background rattles against my nerves.
Eve breaks the quiet. “It’s okay. We all remember how hard it was at first.”
Everyone is nodding sympathetically, and it just makes me angrier. “There’s no ‘at first.’ I’m not fucking staying here! How do we get out? There has to be a way. They can’t just keep us here.”
“We all think like that at first.” It’s a tall, strikingly pretty woman whose name I can’t remember. Her warm brown eyes lock onto mine. “I’ve been here almost twelve years, Quinn. I was only twenty-one when I got taken. It took me a long time to accept it, too.”
Twelve years?
Twelve. Years.
I’d be thirty-six. Or dead, probably, and there’s no way I’m spending the rest of my life here. No motherfucking way.
The others are all piping in, offering up their own depressing timelines.
“Five years next month.”
“I was thirty, only two years for me.”
“Wait, am I the newest, then, after you two? Fourteen months?”
“I was twenty-five. Has it really been three years? Holy shit.”
My head spins, and I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or the shock. It can’t really be true, can it? They have to be lying. But why would they? Why the hell would they?
“Did you never try to escape?” It comes out as an angry demand rather than a question, but no one looks offended. They all have those understanding looks on their faces, and it’s making me want to scream.
The striking woman answers. “Of course we did. I’m sure we’ve all run for the gate, haven’t we?”
Murmurs of assent come from all sides. “Have you seen the fence yet?”
I shake my head, and she sighs.
“It’s electrified, and there are armed guards every few feet. Nothing gets in or out. And even if you manage to bribe your way into a truck or something, you can’t remove the tracker. They’ll find you. I know you’ll have to try anyway, we all do, but it’s honestly useless. The sooner you accept your life is here now and focus on what you can do that makes you happy, the better.”
Only one word jumps out. Tracker. “I don’t have a tracker.”
“We all do. In the back of your neck. They will have injected it while you were out.”
Don’t worry. It’s just another test.
Then a prick at the back of my neck.
I’d thought it strange at the time but hadn’t had the brainpower to focus on it with all the other drama happening around me.
He lied to me.
Jacob lied to me.
I don’t know why it hurts as much as it does. He’s keeping me captive. Using me as a fucking sex toy. But part of me—a stupid, naive part—at least thought I could trust him to tell me the truth. But no. He’s a liar, and I’m an idiot.
I won’t cry. I won’t cry, goddamn it.
The concerned looks on everyone’s faces feel like hot brands against my skin. I need to get out of here. I’m shaking with the effort of holding back the stupid tears.
I down the rest of my drink when a very, very bad idea occurs to me. It’ll cost me—I can almost feel Jacob’s hand crashing into my ass—but it’ll be worth every fucking bruise.
If petty revenge is all I can get against the lying bastard, I’ll take it.
I stand, steadier on my feet than I have any right to be with the way the world is lurching around me, and walk to the door. Eve and Annie chase after me. I bang on the door and shout to the men I know are waiting outside. “Hey! Hey, it’s Quinn. I want to go home. I’m tired.”