11. Kelley
11
KELLEY
A biting cold stings my skin as I pull the blanket tighter around myself, unwilling to wake myself from whatever the hell that was last night.
Memory slaps me before any sight or sound. Though light tugs at the corners of my eyes, I make the conscious decision to close them tighter, turning back the scenes that led me here.
Fucking Vince.
As if Jackson and his never-ending need to assert control weren’t enough to deal with, my mind keeps jumping back to the idiot that led me here. If it weren’t for him, I’d be safe in bed, probably wearing pajamas.
Yet even with my naked form, hiding inside the sanctifying warmth of these covers, my memory traces back to the look on Jackson’s face. With every article of clothing that fell, he seemed to show more than just delight. Crazy as it sounds, and prisoner though I am, I feel the familiar surge of warmth spreading inside me.
Once, he bit his lip, when the lace of my panties slid down my hips. I saw it, like a humble submission of guilt. I know he’s the kind of man who needs to feel in control, but maybe he has tells of his own. I shudder, the warmth spreading into my pelvis at the thought of his hands on me again, and exploring the edges of where his dominance lies.
I open my eyes slowly, sunlight filtering in through the curtains of the opulent guest bedroom. I sit up reluctantly, holding the sheet around myself.
My clothes from last night are gone—no doubt confiscated by Jackson to assert his control. The thought of him undressing me while I was unconscious makes my skin crawl.
The click of the door opening draws my attention. One of the maids enters carrying a pile of clothes. She tells me politely but firmly that Mr. Corel requires me to wear these today. I eye the clothes warily, but I know defiance will get me nowhere here.
“He requests that you come downstairs as soon as you are dressed.”
Once the maid leaves, I reluctantly pick through the items Jackson has provided.
“A t-shirt?” I scoff, holding it up, wondering what it’s supposed to cover. But if this is the way he wants to play, what choice do I have?
I throw it over myself and look in the mirror, adjusting my short hair as best I can.
Shaking my head, I know I have to be smarter if I plan to get out of this one. A smart girl would just give in, give him the girl he wants.
But I’m no one’s plaything.
I take a deep breath and head out of the bedroom. The opulent mansion is like a golden cage, lavish yet oppressive. Priceless artwork and ornate furnishings fill the wide hallways. Tall windows overlook the sprawling grounds outside.
I make my way cautiously through the winding corridors, wary of running into Jackson again. Part of me hopes I've guessed wrong and he's not here. My bare feet on the pristine marble floors feel as cold and unsure with each step I take.
But as I near the back patio area, the sound of masculine voices reaches my ears. I grit my teeth, willing my heart to stop pounding. I have to appear strong and unfazed.
Pushing through the double doors, the sun momentarily blinds me. As my eyes adjust, I see Jackson and Vince lounging at a table overflowing with food and crystal glasses glinting in the morning light. The remains of what was likely a lavish breakfast.
Both men look up at my entrance, eyes widening. Vince lets out a low whistle while Jackson simply smiles slowly like a wolf spotting prey.
I raise my chin and meet Jackson's gaze unflinchingly. Let him underestimate me if he wants to. I'm ready for whatever games he has planned. And I'm going to find a way to win.
“Sleep okay?” Jackson asks, and as much as I want to growl in reply, the only sound that emerges comes from my belly. “Help yourself.”
I shrug at his permission, reaching for a plate of eggs, still steaming on the table.
Just as I feel comfortable enough to eat, Vince speaks. “I couldn’t help but notice your friend last night. Marcy, was it?”
How dare he bring up my friend when I'm trapped here at his and Jackson's mercy.
I stand my ground, lips set in a firm line of defiance. "She's none of your concern," I state coldly.
Vince just chuckles, unfazed. "Oh come now, I just want to get to know her better."
His sly smile makes my skin crawl.
When Vince commands me to provide information about Marcy, I refuse vehemently. There's no way in hell I'll betray my friend to these snakes, no matter the consequences.
"You'll get nothing from me," I snap, meeting Vince's glare evenly.
Jackson chimes in casually, "She won't break down that easily Vince. Kelley here is as stubborn as a mule."
I bristle at Jackson's words even as I sense an odd reassurance in them. Does he somehow admire my loyalty? No, I can't let his mind games shake my resolve.
Vince suggests Jackson needs to discipline me further. At this, rage boils up in me. How dare they discuss me like an animal to be tamed.
"You lay one hand on me and I'll make you regret it," I hiss at Jackson. My hands curl into fists, ready to back up my words.
“Yeah, so much for that control you mentioned before,” Vince teases, with malice in his eyes.
I meet his gaze unflinchingly. "I'm not your toy," I state coldly.
Inside I seethe, but I refuse to show an ounce of fear to these snakes. My will is my own.
Jackson just grins wolfishly. "She'll come around soon enough. I have my ways."
His casual arrogance and confidence in dominating me make my blood boil. I glare back defiantly. "Don't hold your breath."
As I reach back to show him how serious I am, he grabs my wrist again, throwing it at my side.
“You better watch your mouth, Kelley,” he warns, his smile unwavering. “The only way out of here is by good behavior.”
I bristle at his condescending tone as if I'm some misbehaving child rather than his unwilling captive. Crossing my arms, I meet his smug gaze defiantly.
"I don't need lectures on behavior from men like you." My heart pounds with anger and unease, but I refuse to show weakness.
Amused, Jackson chuckles. "Men like me? Do tell, what kind are we?" His mocking endearment fans my fury.
Vince watches our exchange, visibly entertained. I bite back a scathing retort, reminding myself to be smart—I'm outnumbered here.
Steadying my breath, I reply evenly, "Men who take what they want, damn right or wrong. Who see people as pawns." I hold Jackson's gaze. "I won't be part of your games."
Jackson studies me, expression unreadable. For a moment I wonder if I've gone too far. But then he smiles tightly.
"I'm hurt. I'm just a businessman conducting affairs. It's nothing personal."
His lame justification revolts me. "You could at least let Marcy go.”
“But I’m just dying to meet her.” Vince scoffs.
Anger burns in my eyes, but I won’t let the tears fall.
“It’s simple,” Jackson says, leaning into his cup of coffee like the day is business as usual. “Once I see that you’re not a threat to my business, I’ll let you go. Marcy will be just fine, as long as you cooperate.”
Cooperate? He must be kidding.
But when I think about him, he’s got me, my best friend, even my panties. I don’t really have anything to leverage myself out of this, unless I do what he asks.
Vince’s stinging laughter has me shaking my head at the predicament, and the ultimatum before me.
The two men eye me, waiting for an answer. Their cruelty only hardens my resolve. I will fight, survive, and regain my freedom, no matter the cost. They underestimate me, but that will be their downfall. My will remains my own.