Deadly Captive (16 page)

Chrissie arched back and would have tumbled into the bath if I hadn't been holding her. She spurted into my mouth, and I drank her down, removing my fingers so I could replace them with my tongue, the feeling of her clenching down sending me tumbling over the edge myself. I released her and straightened, throwing one arm around Bruno's neck. He lifted me up and shoved me down on him hard, cursing in pleasure.

It took a while to come down from the mind-numbing high. When I did, I dropped my head against back Bruno's chest. "Fuck. What the hell am I doing?"

Bruno freed his slacking cock from my pussy and lowered me to sit at Chrissie's side. Grabbing a towel from the edge of the bath, he whipped it open and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Having some fun. What's the problem?"

Head tilted back so I could meet his deceptively warm brown eyes, I gave him an incredulous look. "What's the problem? I don't know. How about the fact that you've been torturing and raping me?"

Looking insulted, Bruno stepped forward and grabbed my chin. "When did I rape you, Lydia? I seem to recall you being quite willing the last time."

Shoulders hunched, I turned my focus to the glistening marble floors. "Yeah, maybe. But Chrissie made sure both me and Joe knew why I felt that way."

"That's because Joe was being unfair to you." Chrissie touched my cheek, gently turning me to face her. "Was it so wrong of me to want to spare you that? I know how much you care for him."

I scoffed. "Gee, thanks. You making him fuck you in front of me shows how very understanding you are."

Chrissie rolled her eyes. "Come on, Lydia. You know very well why you and Joe are here. If you would only accept your position, things would go much smoother."

Pushing myself away from her, towel clutched close around me, I turned so I could face both her and Bruno. "Look, I don't get what's with the whole grand gesture of kindness, but I know one thing hasn't changed. I cease to entertain, and I die. My refusal to accept my position entertains you. Passive acceptance would be dull. I'd rather be a living prisoner than a dead pet, if you don't mind."

Bruno and Chrissie exchanged a look I couldn't read. Bruno shrugged. Fetching a terrycloth robe from an inlaid closet that was craftily camouflaged in the wall, he brought it to me, not speaking again until I had donned it and tied the belt. "Would you believe me if I told you I could change that?"

I cocked my head, lip quirked in dry amusement. "That you could. Maybe. That you will? Not a chance."

With an irritated sound, Bruno turned away. Chrissie took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I snatched my hand away, my embarrassment at what I'd done overriding my caution. I fully expected Chrissie to grab me again, or perhaps lose her careful composure. She did neither. Unfazed, she held up her hand toward the door as Bruno opened it.

"There are some clothes in the room across the hall. Go choose what you want and meet us when you're ready," she said.

I walked out, eyes on the door across the hall, excited by the offer, though I tried not to let it show. Privacy. It was something I'd missed without even knowing I did. The idea of being able to choose my own clothes, no matter what the selection might be, was appealing as well. I had my hand on the doorknob before I'd fully thought through what I was doing. The cool metal against my palm gave me a moment of clarity. Petty temptations were interfering with my resolve. I'd decided not to lose my wariness, no matter what they offered.

Nothing prepared me for how much the little pleasures would affect me.

Turning the knob, I pushed the door, letting it swing in. The door came back toward me, and I took a quick side step in to avoid colliding with it when it slammed shut. Being locked in didn't worry me, not at that moment. What bothered me was how easy it was getting to forget all they'd done. I was afraid to see what else I'd let them do.

The room was long and deep, lit only by a dim lamp, set on a small table at the very end. I caught sight of a switch by the doorframe to my left and flicked it on. The room flooded with light.

Bright, fluorescent lights lined the entire ceiling, setting off the various outfits hung on metal rods at each side of the room. The outfits were sorted by color from lightest to darkest and, within each color group, from longest to shortest. There were dresses of every style, from gaudy gowns to transparent slips. Suits, jeans, shirts, all of the finest quality. Soft to sturdy. Pretty to serviceable.

I ran my fingers along the clothes, nothing catching my eye until I saw a collection of uniforms I knew immediately were
Gie
. Martial arts uniforms. I wasn't sure how I knew; the word for them was just suddenly in my mind. They seemed familiar, somehow. I lifted a black one off the rack.

I could see myself, donning one just like it, going through some of the very same motions I practiced with Joe. The image was so clear in my mind I was tempted to put it on, just to keep the vision. Shaking my head, I replaced the
Gie
. It was an indulgence, a foolish one at that. I'd look pretty silly walking around dressed like I was going to a competition.

Pushing the persistent thoughts aside, I began to search more seriously for something practical to wear. There was no telling how long Bruno and Chrissie would give me to dress, and I preferred to be fully clothed before I saw them again.

I made my selection with bare attention to the task, found a chair, and dropped the clothes on it while I fished through a set of drawers I found behind the last line of outfits. With a happy little sigh, I dug through the first drawer, losing my carefully held detachment once again. So silly, but just the sight made me giddy. Fresh underwear of all different kinds and colors, still packaged, and socks. I hadn't been allowed either since my capture.

Without removing the robe, I chose a pair of black cotton boy shorts and slipped them on. The material felt heavenly, as well as comfortable. Sitting on the floor, I pulled on a pair of thick black socks. Wriggling my toes, I laughed at myself, reminding myself sternly that the illusion of security the clothing gave me was just that. An illusion. Then I made a face and told myself to shut the hell up. I'd enjoy it while it lasted.

Reminded of the passing time, I stood and grabbed the army green cargo pants I'd chosen, looking back at the drawers thoughtfully while I pulled them on. I went back to them, pulling open a drawer I hadn't checked in my excitement over the socks and panties. I smiled when I fished through the jumble within and found a black sports bra that looked to be my size.

With the bra on, I pulled on the black racerback, sleeveless shirt I'd found and shrugged on the light leather jacket. Wanting to see myself before I went back out, I glanced around for a mirror. A knock at the door stalled my search. For a moment, I considered ignoring it. With a sigh, I decided there was really no point in prolonging the inevitable.

"Come in. I'm dressed." I watched the door open, shoving my hands in my pockets, trying to appear indifferent.

Bruno grinned, coming toward me. "I would have preferred something sexy, but that suits you." He held out a pair of black leather boots, perfect to complete the outfit.

"I had a feeling these would be suitable."

Mumbling thanks, I took the boots, sitting on the chair so I could tug them on. I didn't like how well he read me, or how predictable I apparently was. It would make planning escape rather difficult.

"There's a mirror if you want to check out how you look," Chrissie said from the doorway.

Bruno nodded, shoving some outfits out of the way, revealing a full-length mirror.

The image in the mirror was a stranger. I couldn't be that pale. Those couldn't be my green eyes, wide and fearful. The creature that looked at me from the mirror was very young and very alone. I clenched my fist, and the image became more familiar. I knew that stubborn jaw, those squared shoulders. I knew the flashing emerald eyes that suddenly narrowed when Chrissie began, without a word, to brush my hair back from my face, fixing it into a no-nonsense ponytail.

When Chrissie met my gaze through the mirror, my whole countenance immediately smoothed into one of enduring calm, a touch of hesitant joy, just beneath the surface. With my features carefully schooled, I relaxed into my role. There I was, controlled, intelligent, and adaptive. All they had done hadn't changed that, no matter what memories I had lost.

Reminding myself how easily they read me, I stashed the thoughts away, keeping them hidden in the back of my mind. A bit of the fear and uncertainty returned to the reflection, but it didn't bother me this time. The glimpse of myself, still holding strong, had been enough to sustain me.

Turning away from the mirror, I faced them, inhaling deeply. "So what now?"

Bruno shrugged. "How 'bout a movie?"

I cursed him in my mind for displaying such normalcy, which was much more disarming than anything else he could have done. Dropping my hip, I set one hand on the other. "You suggest
Blade,
and I'm gonna slug you."

Both Bruno and Chrissie laughed.

"Does that mean you're not interested in watching
Bram Stoker's Dracula
?"

Chrissie quipped.

"How about
Lost Boys
?" Bruno continued with a little smile.

I crossed my arms and gave a nonchalant shrug. "You guys so fixated on that theme we can always go for
Buffy
."

They both groaned.

"Please tell me you're talking reruns of the show and not the movie. I refuse to sit through that atrocity," Chrissie whined as she led the way out.

Bruno let me pass then closed the door behind us. "I wouldn't mind watching the last few seasons. Some of the sex scenes are hot."

I held back my own groan. So it was back to
that
.

It was a struggle to think of a movie that wouldn't make them think of sex. I recalled titles, but couldn't remember seeing them, couldn't remember most of the scenes, although I had vague recollections of themes and plots. Focusing on the most non-sexual movie I could think of, I took a few moments to go over what little the title brought to mind. After making absolutely certain there was nothing the least bit provocative about it, I decided to suggest it and gauge from their reactions what they had planned.

"
Simon Birch
?" Bruno repeated with a frown. He was easy to read. There was no doubt at all he'd been hoping to get some play and was hard pressed to figure out how he would accomplish that with the movie I'd mentioned.

Chrissie was the one that confused me. She reached out and touched my cheek.

"Are you sure you want to watch something that has such a sad ending, Lydia? You've known so much sadness already."

I looked into her eyes. "What do you suggest, Chrissie?"

She met my steady gaze without blinking. "How about
Enough
?"

Staring at her, I licked my lips, trying to figure out where the hell she was coming from now. An overview of the movie passed through my mind, too quickly for me to grasp much, but enough to notice all the ways the main character's situation in the movie could be compared to my own. A story of a woman triumphing over her oppressor, against all odds. The symbolism worked for me, but somehow putting ideas like that in my head, assuming they weren't already there, seemed counterproductive.

I tugged on the collar of my jacket, fiddled with the zipper, then nodded. Letting Chrissie take my hand to lead me to yet another room, I tore my thoughts from my misgivings, sensing it would do more harm than good to trap myself in suspicions.

Instead, I would keep well tuned to everything that happened around me, react in the moment, and use every second granted to me to rest and gather strength.

When we arrived in the room, I was pleasantly surprised. Fine, the television was still as excessively large as I'd been sure it would be, but, other than that, the room had a simple, homey appeal. The sofas were big and leather, but the leather wasn't stiff and new. The wood floor was covered by a plush oval rug, shaded a nice rich blue, and there was a long coffee table, covered by black woven cloth, bearing a spread of snacks in colored bowls.

The normalcy was unnerving. Rather than comment on the décor, I walked to the coffee table and took a chip, making a face when I slipped it in my mouth, expecting regular flavor. "Uck. Whatever that was, I don't like it."

Bruno laughed, walked over, and grabbed a chip from the same bowl. He took a tiny bite. His grin widened. "Pickle. That's my favorite. We got a good variety since we didn't know what you preferred."

I held back the automatic response that came to mind. Bruno already knew I had no clue what my own preferences were. He didn't need to know how much it still bothered me.

At a loss as to what to say, I grabbed a handful of orange-powdered ripples chips from another bowl. Taking a seat on the comfortable looking wing chair, I set my feet on the edge of the cushion, knees bent, and rested on the low arm, waiting for Chrissie to finish setting up the movie. Bruno brought me a glass of soda, accepting my quiet thanks with a nod, and set it on the small round table at my side. I was happy he had caught on to the fact that I wasn't much up to conversation.

The movie started. Finishing my chips, mouth numb from the strong, strange taste, I took my glass and sipped at it absently, not taking my eyes from the screen. I was completely engrossed, not even caring that nothing I saw was familiar, though I was sure I must have seen it before. It was a nice change, simply relaxing, watching drama unfold before me without having to be part of it. After a while, I even forgot Bruno and Chrissie were there.

Setting my glass down without taking my eyes from the screen, I slipped off the chair and stretched out on the floor on my belly, a little closer to the television.

Mumbling curses at the brute husband when he lashed out at the little girl, anxious to see what would happen next, I didn't notice when Bruno sat at my side.

I ripped my eyes from the screen at the touch of a hand on my back. I turned my head. Bruno wasn't looking at me. He was watching the movie, but he was distractedly moving his hand back and forth over my back. His touch made me a little nervous, but it was harmless enough, so I said nothing. Eyes back on the television, I tried to ignore him. I was able to do so, until I felt his hand slide down my butt.