Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
S ilver lining?
I don’t have to fuck Celeste.
Instead of diving for my dick, she used a stun gun, zapping me in the side of the neck to incapacitate me. A coward’s way out, like me with booze.
The no-sex bit is the tiniest fucking silver lining I’ve ever faced to date, but it’s better than nothing, and being tied to a goddamn chair definitely gives a man some time to think things through.
Waiting to die.
It’s the Stanic special.
He’s pulled this move on a thousand different people before, and I’ve helped him. Once upon a time, in my younger days, I stood at his side and learned his tricks to make people talk.
He ties you up long enough to work on your pleas and then waits to hear exactly what you have to say before cutting you into tiny pieces. First, he starts with the tips of the fingers, hacking away, leaving raw stumps behind. Then he chops off the fingers themselves, followed by the hands. And if you’re really lucky, he slits your throat before he moves on to the feet.
I’ve got a nasty feeling in my gut; I’m not going to be so lucky. He’s been waiting for a chance to get me under the blade for a while now. Celeste was just another punishment for me. A warm-up before the main event.
I let my head drop over the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. This is the end.
Not like I thought there would be an actual way out of his noose. Even my years of freedom were dogged by them .
Heels click along the concrete, and I know without opening my eyes the ice bitch has returned.
“I’m sick of your bullshit,” I start in a low tone. “Do it already.”
“I think it’s adorable how you act like you’re not afraid of me. But I’ve seen grown men much older than you shit themselves at the end. It happens to the best of them. You don’t have to keep a strong face for me. If you’re afraid, let it show.”
“And give you the satisfaction? I’ll pass.”
I’ve worked the clamps over my arms to the point of bloodying myself. Those are a dead end, too. They’re not budging.
Celeste clucks her tongue. “Marcus, we’re past the point of playing with each other. Unless you want me to.”
“I’d rather deal with Stanic.”
Metal snicks against stone, and when I pry my eyes open, she’s got a knife against a polishing stone. “And he’s given you over to me,” she reminds me. “He has no time for you anymore. You’re not his primary interest any longer.” She scoffs. “You’re not even a blip on his radar. He expects everything to go through me, and I am not in a position to disappoint him.”
Rather than use the knife on me, the bitch twists her index finger along the side of my neck. I jump at the touch, and her eyes light with satisfaction.
“I know I get under your skin, Marcus. I don’t need to fuck you in order to do it,” she murmurs.
“You’re the one who tied me down, sweetheart.” I smile even though the undersides of my arms are drenched in sweat, perspiration also trailing along my spine and my tailbone. “If I’d known you wanted to be kinky, I would have done my best to oblige you. As it is, you’re making it tough to get a hard-on.”
The light in her eyes dims, although her mouth remains twisted in feral amusement.
“As I’ve stated before and you surely don’t remember, I have no need to tie a man down to fuck him. I assure you, there are plenty of willing bodies who enter my bed. Even though there is something so devastatingly sexy about an unwilling one.”
It’s no surprise when she straddles me, her black skirt rising up to show acres of white thighs.
My mind twists and folds over itself, looking for a way out of this.
You’d think with all the shit I’ve survived, I’d be ready for the end. Especially when I knew it was coming and had enough wherewithal to write Empire a note and leave it for her to find.
Celeste kisses the side of my mouth, gripping the knife in her other hand and digging the tip against the side of my neck. Without looking, she trails the blade along the curve of my ear, still kissing. Still touching. Still grinding her fucking pussy against me in some kind of show.
Or worse, a mockery.
“Maybe we can make a new deal,” she whispers.
I swallow over the constriction in my throat. “No offense, but I’m done with your deals. Look at how they turn out.”
“If you give yourself to me, truly, then I’ll keep you alive. You will be my possession. My pet. I’ll treat you well.”
“I’ve already offered you my cock.” Which is currently trying to find a way to crawl back up into my body rather than be anywhere in proximity to her hole. This dirty cunt. “It’s all you’re going to get.”
“I want you to agree to do whatever I want. The snap of my fingers, and you will be on your knees for me. If I want to fuck you, then I will. If I want you to fuck someone else, you will.” Celeste snickers. “It’s a simple arrangement.”
“You want a slave.”
Just like Empire said.
“I want your power at my disposal. With that kind of mettle at my side, I’ll be unstoppable. If you sleep in chains and jump when I snap my fingers, even better.”
A force against Stanic if she chose. Celeste was willing to throw herself at me to make this deal. Absolutely fucking not.
Disgust replaces shock in my system, and I puff out my chest to put distance between us. “Go screw yourself. I’d rather die.”
Celeste shrugs and grins at my vehemence. “A bold statement coming from someone who is basically waiting for his death.”
“Oh, no. A bold statement would be telling you that you’ve got a better chance of fucking yourself with that knife than getting me to touch you. And how I’d love to see you slice your slit open and bleed out all over the floor.” My lips stretched, baring my teeth. “What a sight it would be. Oh, look. I’m finally getting hard.”
“You son of a bitch.” Celeste pushes off my lap, her eyes glittering with malice.
“Yes. And still not willing to touch you.”
Fury twists her features into a mask I’ve never seen before as she rakes her attention over me.
“You’re going to get what’s coming to you, Mr. Ortega. And it is within my power to deliver it. You don’t want to strike a deal? Then I’ll make sure your end is as twisted and painful as you deserve.”
She straightens her skirt and snaps her fingers.
The door to her room of horrors opens, and her men walk inside. Are they still loyal to Stanic?
The thought barely has time to blossom in my mind before the nearest one plows his meaty knuckles into the side of my head. My skull snaps to the side, and pain rips through me.
Stars dance in front of my vision, and my teeth are loose.
Fuck, the dude must be a professional cage fighter.
He knows exactly where to hit in order to cause the maximum amount of pain. His next hit lands in the same spot, and the bright flash of agony is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
He kicks me hard enough to send both me and the chair to the ground, but the metal cuffs won’t break. Won’t crack and gift me a chance at release.
I’m paying for every word of my brutal rebuff.
Through already narrowed vision, my brow bone cracked and my eye swollen, I catch a glance of Celeste. She stands off to the side with the knife lightly dangling from her loose fingertips. She watches her men work, gloating.
The men pause, and I spit out a mouthful of blood, one of my teeth already cracked. My jaw is on fire, and the rest of my body is bracing for the same amount of pain. They always start with the face, but not so bad to keep you from talking.
I’ve been in their shoes before.
I’ve been the one working my targets over and waiting for answers.
Except this time, they don’t want anything out of me except my suffering.
“You know,” I say, nearly biting off my tongue, the damn thing swollen, “if you really want to make me suffer, you’d start with my dick. It’s my best feature. A little slice off the top, peeling off the foreskin…”
Not that I want to put ideas in their heads, but the razing is enough to have one of the grunts growling and blowing his fist into my gut instead.
“Poor Marcus. You still think you’re going to be able to find an opening. Let me tell you something; I’m saving the best for last.” Celeste holds up a hand to get her men to pause. When I finally manage to pry open my eyes, she’s got a gun aimed at my chest. “Guess this is the time, then.”
“For what?”
With her other hand, she bends to pick up something on the floor. “It’s best if you go out knowing what’s really happening. Consider it a final gift to you.”
She somehow manages to flip through the stack of pages and holds out the last one to me. There at the bottom is Empire’s signature. My stomach sinks, and the rest of me solidifies to ice.
“What have you done?”
“It’s not what I’ve done. Your girlfriend signed these contracts of her own free will. I’ve signed them as well. The movie is mine. Empire is mine. She will never be able to get out, and you won’t be around to keep her safe this time.” Celeste licks her lips. “Think of the fun I’ll have, molding her into a useful asset. She is going to make me a lot of money. And she is going to make Stanic very happy when he’s plowing between her legs, shooting his seed into her sweet young pussy—”
I erupt into motion, bucking against the chair but finding no give. My head cracks against the cement.
I did nothing. I didn’t get Empire out, didn’t keep her safe. She got herself right back in.
“You goddamn bitch!” I yell. “How could you?”
“How could I?” Celeste mocks. “I did nothing. She chose her next project with only a minimal push from one of my men. There is no escape once you’re in our sights. Surely you know it better than anyone else.”
Red-hot rage blots out my vision and blankets the room in crimson. The metal bites into my wrists and slices through my skin. The pain is barely recognizable in the face of everything else. I’ve got to get free. I have to do something to get Empire out of this and destroy that contract before something happens to her.
I’d rather burn in hell for eternity than see her turned into a toy for Stanic. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.
Celeste laughs, delighted by my struggle. “I wish I had a camera to mark this occasion. I knew you would flip out. The look on your face—”
My shock and horror reverse in an instant at the sound of splintering wood. The world goes foggy, time speeding up rather than slowing down, and in the next breath, a damn SWAT team storms the room.
The nearest man slams the butt of his gun against the side of Celeste’s head and sends her sprawling to the floor before she has a chance to flip off her safety.
Footsteps thunder inside the small space. One of the men rights me and moves to undo the manacles keeping me contained.
“It’s all right now, Mr. Ortega,” he says through his mask. “We’ve got you covered.”
Talk about a fairy-tale ending. The bad guys are arrested, and I’m freed. The contract is somewhere in the room, forgotten, forgotten as they drag me out into the cool night air and set me down on the curb.
The fight is over before it begins. My stomach sinks further as they secure the room, disarming and slapping cuffs on Celeste and her men. It’s not me they need to worry about.
Someone has to go to the premiere and get Empire out. Someone needs to help her.
I don’t recognize the building. Celeste made sure to keep me utterly in the dark during our drive here. So how in the fucking world did the SWAT team find us?
An ambulance pulls up with a screech and several EMTs rush out with their steady hands and kind eyes. Within the next five minutes, they’ve got me bandaged and disinfected and all kinds of shit. I hiss and suck in a breath as they dab antiseptic along my forehead.
“We’ll be able to treat you better at the hospital, but for now, this will stop the bleeding,” the woman says.
She makes no further comment. Her movements are perfunctory and professional, and she barely bats an eyelash when a yell cuts through the night.
I glance up too fast, causing me to wince, and there’s Empire, fucking rushing up to us, still in her evening gown. Safe, alive. Here.
“Marcus, damn you!” She doesn’t stop. Only barrels forward and launches herself at me, her arms around my neck and her breasts pressing to my chest. “You’re alive. You’re really alive.”
Despite being in a crazy amount of agony, made all the worse by her knee digging into my groin, I’m not going to let her go. Not when she feels like heaven, and I know, in my gut, she’s the one who saved me.
“Miss, please, we need you to back up,” the younger EMT states.
I wrap her up in my arms and growl over her head in a clear warning that she’s not fucking going anywhere. “How did you find me?” Shit, my swollen tongue makes it hard to talk. The words are a garble and a bit of blood gushes out of the corner of my mouth.
The pain is all-encompassing. With every breath I take, the bruises and breaks and split skin heave and throb. But there is no fucking way I’m letting go of her. Not when I doubted I’d ever see her again.
Empire pulls back long enough to grab something from her purse.
She’s still got her damn purse with her?
From its depths, she drags her cell, and with a flick of the screen, she opens an app. “The same app you use to track me,” she says with a wild grin. She’s breathing heavily. “I used it on you.”
The happiness is tempered by the tears ready to drop from the corners of her eyes, and I squeeze her tight to my chest before I have to watch them fall. “Fuck, Em.”
“Did you not realize it allows me to see where you are?”
“I’m just happy she didn’t toss my phone when she tied me down.”
Empire shudders on my lap.
I never want to say the woman’s name again. Never want to think about her and the end I narrowly avoided. Again. How can a piece of shit like me get this lucky? I escaped the hangman’s noose more times than a cat working on its last life. What’s going to happen to me next time when she isn’t around to save me?
“Come on,” Empire murmurs after I don’t know how much time has passed. She pries herself off my lap, stumbling back on those too-high heels and holding out a hand. “Let’s go home.”
“Miss, he needs to be taken to a hospital,” the EMT argues.
“I’ll have someone come to the house.”
The sound of her snapping is music to my ears. The pain is worth it, almost. The agony is worth it to have her here, even with the nagging sensation tickling at the back of my mind, vying for acknowledgment.
Celeste and her people might be taken in by SWAT, but the contract is still there somewhere, which means Empire belongs to Stanic. Signed and sealed and all but delivered.
The thought eddies out of my head when I take a step and trip, faltering forward and forcing Empire into action. She and the EMTs move at the same time, one on either side of me for support.
The world around us buzzes, everything happening at once, the edges of my vision blurry. Empire’s there saying something about getting a nurse or doctor to come to the house. She’s there helping me into the back of the car, where I immediately drop onto my shoulder, my face sagging into the seat.
She’s there holding my hand, cradling me, as the driver takes off and leaves the blare of the ambulance behind.
She’s there .
But for how long before Stanic comes to finish what he started?