5. Riley
I feel blessedlynumb inside as I pick at the overcooked piece of meat these assholes gave me for dinner, trying not to let myself compare it to the memory of all the delicious meals Logan has cooked for me.
Or, hell, maybe this mystery meat is supposed to be breakfast?
I’ve got no fucking way to tell since they haven’t let me out of this windowless room other than to pee a couple of times every day, and even though I’ve been trying to track time here based on when they feed me, it’s not like I trust that they’re doing it on any kind of regular schedule.
Still, I think I’ve probably been West Point’s prisoner for a week or two by now, and every day—or at least, every time I wake up from my longest sleep—I try not to get my hopes up that the Reapers will come rescue me.
“Oh god,” I whisper, the shield of all that numbness cracking for a moment and letting my actual emotions through. I cover my mouth to hold in the pained noise that tries to escape, because even though I’m alone, I refuse to be weak here.
All I need to remember is that the men not coming for me is a good thing. I shouldn’t even want them to since I did this to protect the three of them and my sister. If they suddenly burst in here just to try to save me, here where they’d be even more overpowered than we were in that alley, then what I’ve done for them would be worthless.
But, more importantly, it doesn’t even matter.
No one comes. I’m left alone with nothing but my thoughts and the occasional plate of food that always tastes like cardboard soaked in ass. And time keeps ticking downward toward a feeling of doom.
“But I’m still here. I’m still alive,” I whisper to myself, needing to hold onto that.
I make myself take another bite of the food they’ve given me. I still have no plan other than survival, but I know that if I get an opportunity to do something more than that, I’m going to need my strength. And that’s all this food is. It’s not pleasure, it’s barely sustenance. But it’s the only fuel I’ve got for the dwindling spark of hope inside me that somehow, some way, I’ll find a way to make this motherfucker pay for what he’s putting me through.
And for what he’s stealing from me.
I haven’t seen Sienna again after that first day, and other than the neckless wonder who escorts me to and from the bathroom down the hall from this windowless hell, Austin is the only person I’ve seen since they brought me here.
He brings me paperwork to sign periodically, pressing a cocked gun to my temple while he stares at me with an even cockier grin, and it’s not just the fact that I’ve been signing over the fortune I inherited to my new “husband” that’s fed my hatred of the man. It’s the sick pleasure I can see he takes in how much power he has over me.
I’ve got no choice, though. Not if I still want to live… which I do. Bit by bit, Austin is forcing me to give him access to all of it. All I can do with my overflowing anger and the choking sense of helplessness that comes over me every time the door opens to reveal his gloating face is store it up inside and promise myself that I’ll use it later.
I won’t make it easy for him to “get rid” of me the way Sienna said. Not without a fight.
I look up as I hear the locks disengage. I’m not surprised to see it’s Neckless. Now that they’ve fed me, they usually give me a bathroom break.
I force myself to shove the last bite of the meat I’ve been toying with into my mouth before standing up, briefly letting myself fantasize about smashing the plate over his head. But then what? On my brief walks to and from the bathroom, I’ve seen far too many gang members hanging around—and heard the voices of even more—to think I’d have any chance of getting very far even if a dumb move like that actually did anything more than piss my guard off and give him an excuse to hurt me.
“Coming?” he asks gruffly. “’Cause if you’d rather piss in the corner and stink this place up, that’s on you, bitch.”
I don’t bother replying, and as soon as I get within arm’s reach of him, he grabs my arm and digs his fingers in, keeping me close as he turns and marches me down the hallway.
Out here, there are at least some windows I get to walk past. I can tell by the light outside that it’s probably sometime in the afternoon, closing in on evening. I’ve also been able to piece together the little glimpses I get of the world outside this fucking house, enough to realize that it’s not in any part of Halston that I’m familiar with.
It’s got to be another safe house he keeps hidden, like the one Maddoc saved Chloe from. Somewhere he plans on keeping me squirreled away while he works through all the legal bullshit to get my money transferred into his name.
It’s a straight shot from the room they’re keeping me in to the bathroom, but since we pass a few other rooms along the way, along with an open entry to what looks like the front of the house and a stairway just past the bathroom, I’ve done my best to make a mental map of the layout of the place. It may not be totally accurate, but at least I won’t be running completely blind if I ever get a chance to make a break for it.
We reach the bathroom, and Neckless follows me into the small room. It’s another windowless one, and they’ve taken out every single amenity other than the roll of toilet paper and a single, thin hand towel. There’s no way my guard is under orders to watch me like this. I’m not going to escape if I’m out of his sight for a few minutes while I pee.
No, the sick bastard does it—every single time—purely because he gets off on having power over me.
I’ve known plenty of bastards just like him and used most of them to pay our bills back when I was stripping at Club M. My skin should be thick enough that his lascivious stare doesn’t bother me, but the truth is, I hate it.
Being stuck here is wearing me down. I don’t want that to be true, but I can feel it.
What I can’t do—won’t do—is show it.
I ignore him and do my business, quickly peeing and then washing my hands at the sink. I don’t flush. It’s a small rebellion, but it’s one tiny fuck-you that I have control over, so I take it.
As soon as my hands are dry, Neckless puts his clammy hands on me, meaty fingers splayed across my lower back as he starts to usher me back to my room. I don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting, but his touch makes my skin crawl, and when two more gang members exit one of the rooms near mine, turning toward us in the narrow hall, my heart starts to race with an anxiety I fight not to show.
For a split second, they look surprised to see me out of my room. Then their expressions quickly morph into leering sneers, and they saunter closer, blocking the hallway.
“I thought she wasn’t supposed to be out of her room,” one of the new guys says to Neckless, licking his lips as his eyes rake over me. “The boss know you’re having a little fun while he’s out, Tony?”
“Yeah, real fun,” my guard—Tony, apparently—says sarcastically. “All I’m allowed to do is take her to the bathroom and back.”
“Sounds risky,” says the lip licker, staring down at me. “You never know what she might cook up in there. You sure she hasn’t snuck anything past you?”
“I watch her,” Tony grunts, fisting his hand in the back of my shirt and yanking me back against his ’roided up chest like he’s trying to prove that he can keep me from making a break for it.
“That’s good,” purrs Lip Licker, taking another step toward me, standing so close that I have to tip my head back to glare up at him. “But do you check her?”
His hand lashes out with no warning and he grabs my pussy, grinning when I flinch.
“Fuck you,” I spit out, hating myself a little for showing any weakness.
“Maybe I’ll do that when the boss is finally done with you,” Lip Licker says like a sick promise, groping me with rough, demanding fingers as his breath speeds up with excitement. “I can fill this hot little pussy up for you real good.”
Not if his dick is broken.
Old instincts kick in fast, and I slam my knee up, aiming for his balls.
I only graze them, earning a vicious curse from the guy, because Tony is faster. The fucker yanks me backward before I can connect and do the damage I want, his moist breath on the back of my neck sending a disgusted shudder through me as he leans down to whisper in my ear.
“None of that, bitch. Jackson’s right. Once Austin gets what he needs from you, he ain’t gonna have any more use for you. And you know what he does with bitches he has no use for?”
His cock starts to swell against my back, and I struggle to get away from him, answering his question with a string of curses that gets me nothing but dark laughter from all three of them.
Tony yanks my elbows behind me, sending a shooting pain through my shoulders. “We’ve been stuck here watching over you, bored out of our fucking minds. Pretty sure he’ll let us pass you around since we deserve something for that.”
“You deserve to rot in fucking hell,” I grit out, panting as I struggle against him.
“Nah, like Jackson said, what we deserve is a little fun,” he says, wrapping a meaty hand around my neck and squeezing until I’m forced to go still. The shithead he called Jackson seems to take that as an open invitation, closing in on me again and grabbing my tits hard while Tony holds me in place.
His eyes are mean now that I’ve gone for his balls.
“What do you think, Mrs. McKenna?” he asks nastily as he gropes me. “Are you having fun yet?”
The front door bangs open before I can tell him to go fuck himself, startling all three guards. The guy against the wall straightens up and looks toward the front of the house, and Jackson backs off too.
It’s Austin, looking so fucking smug as he approaches that the brief surge of relief I felt at the interruption goes up in smoke. If he’s this pleased about something, there’s no way it can be anything good, and the way he’s looking at me sends my heart into my throat.
“All good, boss?” Jackson asks, backing off even more to give Austin room to pass.
“Very, very good,” Austin answers, his eyes locked onto mine as he walks right up to me. Tony quickly drops his hand from my throat without letting go of my arms, shifting back a few inches.
At least I don’t have to feel his cock pressing against me anymore.
Tony clears his throat. “I was just taking her to the bath—”
“Shh,” Austin says sharply, holding up a hand. I hear Tony’s mouth snap closed behind me, and Austin smiles. “It’s official, wifey,” he practically purrs, leaning in. “What’s yours is all mine. The accounts have all been officially transferred into my name. And do you know what that means?”
I don’t answer him, and I don’t give him the satisfaction of flinching away when he reaches out and strokes my cheek with one finger, either.
“It means I don’t need you anymore,” he says, slowly dragging his finger down to my throat before jerking it sideways in a vicious slicing motion.
I swallow hard, both adrenaline and fear stabbing through me, and Austin grins, a dark hunger flaring to life in his eyes. For a split second as he holds my gaze, I think he’s going to do it right now. But then he rocks back on his heels, tucking his hands behind his back.
“I was going to kill you, but Sienna gave me a better idea.”
He pauses, dragging it out, but I’m not going to feed his sadistic pleasure by begging to know my fate.
“You do still have some value,” he finally goes on, watching me with an avaricious gleam in his eye. “No monetary value, not anymore, but since there are three men who still seem to want you anyway, you’re still going to be useful to me.”
For a single, horrifying moment, I think the three guards were right. Austin is going to give me to his men. He’ll let them pass me around and use me as their cum dump until I wish I was dead. But then the gloating expression on his face gives way to ugly rage, and he spits out a word that makes my heart sing.
“Reapers.”
My breath hitches, and as quickly as Austin’s mask slipped, he has it back in place, grinning at me with smug satisfaction.
“That’s right. Maddoc Gray and his seconds still have their people sniffing around for you, and Sienna pointed out that that gives me an advantage against them.”
My heart lurches. Are they really still out there looking for me?
Something both painful and warm spills into my chest, because I don’t even have to ask. Of course they are. I can’t deny that the three men I was living with… care about me. They’ve shown it, proven it, over and over. Just like they’ve proven that it’s not about the money.
Austin’s right. They will still want me, even though it’s gone.
But I care about them too. I don’t want them to pay for their feelings for me like this. I don’t want Austin to use me as leverage.
He will, though. He’ll make them pay. He’ll use me to hurt Maddoc, Dante, and Logan.
West Point is going to blackmail the Reapers.