Captive, Mine (5 page)

“Ow! Fuck you!” My hands covered the area around my mouth. That was worse than the worst waxing session I’d ever had!

He ignored me and reached to strap me in, nice and tight like the first time he’d done it. I didn’t miss his glance at my chest and when he met my gaze again, I made sure he knew I knew.

“My dad’s going to kill you,” I said, my voice low.

He started the truck. “Your dad’s going to thank me. That and pay me a nice bonus.”

“You’re as good as dead, Lake Freeman.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, merging onto the highway.

“Where are you taking me? What happened to the US Marshal?” I looked out the window but didn’t recognize anything. “Where are we?” It was strange how I heard the tone of my own voice changing with that last question. I glanced back over at him, really looking at him. He was big with thick, muscular arms and legs. Under any other circumstances, I might have found him attractive, but not today. Today I was scared. Something had gone wrong in the plan to whisk me away to a new life. It wasn’t that I felt broken up over that. I didn’t want to leave my old life behind. But the fact that I was here, handcuffed, in a car with Lake Freeman, alone, meant my father’s enemies had gotten to him. It didn’t make sense though. Where was DeSalvo? My gaze returned to that spot on Lake’s shirt just as he looked at me.

“Where we are and where you’re going don’t matter. What does matter is that if I’d gone through with the original plan, you’d be Randall’s guest right now and the only bargaining chip they have to buy your father’s silence. DeSalvo was in on it.”

He caught me glancing once more at that stain but didn’t elaborate, nor did I want him to.

“What about you then? You were in on it too?”

He only nodded once, his face suddenly, incredibly hard.

“I don’t understand.” I brought my bound hands to my face and rubbed.

He glanced at me and exhaled, shaking his head and for one moment, emotion flashed across his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had come however, and he grinned. “I figured I could make more money selling you back to Daddy.”

The way he said that last part was a taunt but I refused to take the bait. There was more to his story. My dad would have paid him a hefty sum to protect me, and double-crossing Randall meant a death sentence.

I shook my head, thinking this through. It didn’t make sense. “You’re leaving something out,
Lake
. My dad would have paid you well to protect me. Randall would have topped that for delivering me to him. Doesn’t make sense that you’d double cross both of them. What are you not telling me?”

His jaw tightened and I knew I was right. He didn’t speak for a while. In fact, it was a good while before he said another word. Instead, he put on his blinker and crossed multiple lanes to get off at the next rest area. When he did park the truck and finally, slowly, turned to me, I shuddered at his expression. He leaned a little closer, making every hair on my body stand on end.

“Maybe I just like to keep pretty girls chained to my bed.”

I could only stare at him. I didn’t breathe, my mouth didn’t open, I didn’t have words or thoughts or anything at all. Every inch of me vibrated with sudden, primal fear. My instinct wasn’t to fight, it was to run. I think if he’d stayed as close as he had been for even another second, I would have screamed. Or worse, broken down in tears. But he didn’t. Instead, he took the key out of the ignition.

“Do you need to use the restroom?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, my voice weaker.

He took that time to open the glove compartment and retrieved the small revolver. “Do you think you can be a good girl and do as I say when we’re inside or do you think I should drive to a more secluded area where you can piss along the side of the road while I watch?”

“I’ll be good,” I said quickly, my eyes on the gun.

“What will happen if you’re not?” he asked.

My chest felt tight at his words.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked.

“You’ll hurt me,” I answered, looking directly at him.

“I’m glad we understand each other. Hold out your hands.”

I did so without hesitation and watched while he unlocked the cuffs. I rubbed my wrists, my brain already working out a plan. Any plan. The way I saw it, my options were very limited. My best chance at escape was when we were in public, when there were people around. I wondered then if anyone was even looking for me. If anyone knew the original plan had gone wrong, so terribly wrong, but I doubted it. It wasn’t as if the feds were looking out for my best interests. They were doing what they needed to do to get my dad to testify.

“Let’s go,” he said, climbing out of the truck.

He came around to my side and opened the door, took my arm and “helped” me out. He then locked the truck and wrapped his big hand around mine, squeezing hard enough to make me wince. He looked down at me and smiled as we passed a family with small children. We then entered the building, which contained a small convenience store and restrooms. There were maybe a dozen people inside and two cashiers. He walked me not to the ladies room but to the large and private handicap bathroom. It was when we went inside it together that I dug my heels in.

“I am not going to go to the bathroom in front of you!”

He ignored me and unzipped his pants.

“What are you doing?” I asked, backing up when he let me go.

“I’m taking a leak,” he said. “If it so offends you, then don’t watch.”

My mouth opened and closed but when he proceeded to take himself out of his jeans, I quickly looked away, not missing his chuckle.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this!”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he flushed the toilet when he was finished.

He washed his hands and plucked two paper towels out of the dispenser to dry them. “Your turn,” he said, standing back as if to watch.

“I don’t think so. You can wait outside.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll be right on the other side of the door and you will not lock it, understand?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t try anything,” he said before he walked out.

I gave him a smirk and locked the door as soon as he was gone. Jerk.

At least the toilet was clean. Once I was finished, I quickly washed my hands but left the water running.

“You done?” Lake asked from the other side of the door.

“Almost,” I said, looking around.

I reached for a paper towel and saw the small cabinet beneath the sink. The lock was loose so I yanked hard and managed to get the door open. Inside were cleaning supplies: an empty bottle of bleach, rags, toilet cleaner, and Windex.

He knocked again. I ignored him and picked up the Windex. I would have preferred the bleach, but this would have to do.

“Open the door, Lily.”

“Just a minute,” I said, spraying the Windex into the air. If I got him in the face, in the eyes, well, that would hurt and possibly give me the moment I’d need to get help.

I smiled and unlocked the door, and just as I knew he would, he didn’t wait for me to open it. Instead, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, already muttering something I couldn’t quite make out because once he was in, he pushed the door closed and I extended my arm, aimed for his face, and squeezed.

“Ah! Fuck!” he called out, squeezing his eyes shut with one hand and trying to reach for me with the other.

I squeezed again and almost made it out. I would have made it if it hadn’t been for the woman who had reached to open the door in the meantime, her daughter’s wheelchair in front of her blocking my exit.

“What’s going on in here?” she began.

“Just a minute!” Lake said, taking the opportunity to push the door closed and grab hold of me. He stared at me, furious, while turning on the tap. He kept his hand locked on my arm as he splashed water over his face, his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” I began, stunned at my failed plan. I’d been so close.

The woman knocked again. “This is a handicap restroom!”

Lake made some noise as he towel dried his face. Taking me by the collar of my coat, he pulled me to him. “You are in so much fucking trouble. Keep your mouth shut,” he said, making a point of showing me the gun tucked inside the waistband of his jeans.

I shook my head, “I’m so sorry…” I began, but he cut me off.

“No, not yet you’re not, but you will be.”

* * *

I
t was very, very close. He’d been sloppy — and there wasn’t room for that anymore.

“You’re going to walk with me back out to the truck.” He stood close enough that his whisper was loud and clear, her wide liquid eyes fixed upon him, her face ashen. “You’re going to do
exactly
that, and nothing more. You don’t talk — not a single word. You don’t resist, you don’t run. Got me, Ms. Cross?”

For a moment she simply stared, her mouth open. Then she swallowed, nodding.

“Good.”

His hand engulfed hers, squeezing tightly enough that she winced. He liked that. She’d be getting a lot more where that came from in a few minutes.

Striding back across the patched asphalt parking lot, Lily in tow, he scanned the area, going over the possibilities in his mind. None of them were good. But first, he needed to get them moving again. Movement, was life.

Fortunately, the place was practically deserted. But the woman with the girl in the wheelchair might be a problem. He’d glanced back at her as they’d rushed out of the bathroom. The woman’s beady eyes, peering over flushed jowls, had watched them the entire time.

Much too closely.

He hoisted Lily up into the back seat of the truck, her body jerking at the loud clatter of a Jake brake sounding from a tractor-trailer racing past on the freeway beyond them.

“Don’t move an inch,” he rumbled, buckling the belt tight. He cuffed her hands once more, and, fortunately for her, she seemed to be learning, offering her wrists without so much as a peep. He looked behind him once more, just to be sure, then reached for her, a hand tight in the curls of her dark hair.

“No, wait—” she yelped as he slapped the tape over her mouth once more, smoothing it over her soft lips.

His fingers shook as he walked around to the driver’s side, his eyes checking the parking lot one last time. With any luck, Lake and Lily would fade out of memory for everyone there, even Ms. Beady Eyes. But it had nearly been disaster.

As he pulled the truck down the on-ramp and accelerated back onto the freeway, he gripped the steering wheel hard, his hands creaking.

Not now, Lake. You can’t do it now. You’re too pissed.

He breathed slowly, deeply, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes met his in the reflection, and what he saw in them made him smile.

Fear.

It was what he wanted to see because if she feared him, maybe she’d listen to him. And if she listened to him, it
might
keep them alive. Simply fearing him wasn’t enough though. Not for him.

It was time to teach her to obey him, too.

Watching the road once more, he brought the truck up to just under seventy. Willing himself to calm, he visualized what needed to be done next. There was so little time, and yet being careful, calm was so important. Swiftness, precision, decisiveness. He’d need all of them to get them to safety. And he’d need a little luck too.

Once the scenery turned from suburban to rural, he took an exit that looked suitably deserted, driving away from the freeway until he found a turnabout spot partially screened by a dense stand of tall evergreens. The gravel was loud under his tires as the truck bounced over the edge of the shoulder. It was far enough off the road to be relatively secluded, but not so far as to raise suspicion. He parked and got out, laying both hands on the hot hood and inhaling deeply, the air smelling faintly of the cedars soaring above them.

It was time she learned that first lesson.

Opening the rear passenger door on the driver’s side, he climbed in, closing it behind him, the air inside still, quiet. Her chest heaved with her panicky breathing, her nostrils flaring. Her body leaned against her door, as far from him as she could get.

“When I tell you to do something, Ms. Cross, you’d damn well better do it.” He brought his face closer to hers, inhaling the clean scent of her perfume. He spoke slowly, steel in his voice.

“You’re going to learn to start obeying me. And you want to know why? Because it’s going to keep us alive, but more importantly, you’ll do it because I told you to. Do you understand?”

Her eyes grew wide, and she looked down at the tape. He reached for it, curling fingers under one corner. “I’ll pull this back, and I’d better hear the words: ‘Yes, Sir’” His fingers yanked it to the side, leaving it to hang from her flushed cheek

“Fuck, that hurts!” She reached up with her cuffed hands, running fingertips along her lips.

“Those weren’t the words I wanted to hear.” He batted her hands away, stilling her with a fist twisting in her hair and a slap of the tape back over swollen, reddened lips. “That’s going to cost you.”