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Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

GRACE

T here was no rest. There was barely any water. My captor seemed to enjoy ordering me around even more than just using my body. As grim tasks went, it could be worse. The first time he came, he wanted to come on me.

Fine.

The second time, he splashed it all over my face. So fucking gross. I’d never been fond of facials. The third time, he wanted me to swallow. That I hesitated on. These guys apparently like kidnapping and raping women. There was no guarantee he was clean.

Not that he gave me a choice though. At my brief show of resistance, he’d fisted my hair and shoved his cock so far down my throat, I choked. Then he finished there, and gagging or not, he wouldn’t pull out until I swallowed.

After, he was all soothing sounds and petting. Then he shackled me to the foot of the bed and went to take a shower himself. When he came out, he nodded to himself and then pointed to the pallet at the foot of the bed.

“You will sleep there. If I summon you in the night, you will kneel and say, ‘what pleases you, sir?’”

I stared at him.

He gripped my chin, much like the man in the suit earlier. There was nothing soft or gentle about this man. As long as I cooperated, he didn’t use his strength against me. But I didn’t mistake that for any real kindness.

He expected me to serve him.

“I understand,” I said, pushing the words out past the sour taste he’d left in my mouth. “May I have a drink of water?”

Not answering for a long time, he skimmed his hand down to my breasts. He hadn’t really fondled or touched me anywhere except my hair and my cunt.

The fact he pinched one nipple and twisted it brutally was unexpected and I went to my knees at the sudden sharp pain. It almost felt like he was going to twist my nipple right off, and the act shed a light on a fear I hadn’t even known I possessed.

Kneeling didn’t free my breast, if anything it made the bruising force even worse. His dispassionate stare filled me with dread. Finally, he released me and the sudden rush of blood to the abused area just aggravated everything.

“When you wish to make a request, you will assume a proper posture. If you want something from me, pet, I expect you to beg for it.”

Not for the first time, I wished I had something—anything—a book, a bottle, a stick. Since all I had was the blanket I currently knelt on and the short chain attached to the shackle on my ankle, I had to suck it up.

Nodding my head once, I debated whether I should keep staring at him or lower my head. “Do you wish me to look at you when I ask you questions?”

Neutrality was getting harder to hang onto. My breast really fucking hurt. I had to fight against the urge to make sure my nipple was still there.

“Your eyes are exquisite, pet, I would prefer you look at me. Unless others are present. Then you will look down. Tomorrow, when you demonstrate your sweetness in front of others, you will look down.”

Demonstrate.

Gross.

“Thank you,” I said, then tacked on, “sir,” at the end. “May I have a glass of water?”

“You may.” With that, he disappeared into the bathroom then returned with a cup full of tepid water. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t horrible. It washed out the taste of him and I’d take it.

“Thank you, sir.” The words scraped against my throat on their way out. His nostrils flared each time I said sir. Good to know. When I finished the drink, he held out his hand to take it back.

“Sleep,” he ordered before he disposed of the cup and then climbed into the bed. He didn’t give me any more time before the lights went off and the room plunged into darkness.

I had no idea what time it was, where I was, or how long I would be here. What I did know was that I would survive. With that in mind, I made myself lay down and pulled the blanket up over me. He hadn’t allowed me to shower and rinse off the stickiness he’d left all over me.

In the dark, I used the edge of the blanket to clean my face as much as possible. The smell was right there though. It wasn’t long before his breaths grew deeper and more even.

It wasn’t until I was absolutely certain he was asleep that I let myself think about how I got here . Even if I didn’t know where here was. I’d been going to Amorette’s place. I’d been looking for her.

That much I remembered. Then…

Then nothing.

Had they taken Am too? Was she somewhere here? This man knew who I was, so why had he gone to Amorette’s to get me?

My stomach bottomed out. The possibilities were terrible on all fronts. Amorette didn’t show up for our weekend. She didn’t answer her calls. She never left me unread.

Never.

I squeezed my eyes closed as grief wrapped around my throat. The man in the bed kept talking about me . What if they took Amorette first thinking she was me? What if…

No, I couldn’t think like that.

It didn’t matter how much I tried to push it away, the dark thoughts continued to swirl with all the terrible possibilities. Sleep seemed elusive, yet I must have passed out at some point.

Between one blink and the next, there was light in the room and the blanket was pulled away. “Get up,” my captor said. Dressed only in pants, he tugged me up from the pallet. My sleep-fogged brain fought to catch up to where we were.

“I’m sorry,” I started to say. He’d said he would call me and I needed to kneel, but he only shook his head and gave me a shake.

“Silence. I am taking your shackle off, you will come with me and stay with me, do you understand?”

Not even a little bit. Rather than argue, though, I just nodded. He moved to where the shackle locked around my ankle and he unlocked it.

“Dress.” He pointed to my abandoned clothes. “Now.” The snap got me moving. I managed to get the bra, panties, and t-shirt on, before he gripped my arm and hurried me to the door leaving my jeans behind.

Well, at least I had panties on.

When he opened the door and let more light spill in, two things hit me at once. He had a gun in his free hand and there were shouts coming from down the hall.

Shouts and?—

The pop-pop-pop sound echoed toward us. Ice then heat flashed through me. The guard who’d been out there the night before was gone. Instead of heading back to where the beds, women, and men had been, my captor hurried me the other way down the hall.

His grip on my arm had more iron than the shackle that had been around my ankle. A string of invectives left him. At least I thought they were, I didn’t understand the language. The tone, however, was very clear.

More than once, I banged my toes off the uneven cement pavers. Gunfire carried up the hall, then something whistled past and slammed into the wall. Every muscle in my body locked up as a hole appeared in the wall just ahead of us.

Not seeming to realize I’d stopped moving, my captor hauled me along. Then he pushed me toward the other wall as he turned. I’d seen guns before. Even held one in a couple of shoots.

I’d never been right next to one when it was fired. The sound from down the hall had nothing to being right on top of it. The bangs were loud, and seemed to redouble in the narrow hall.

I followed his aim to see who he was shooting at. It wasn’t quite real. There were actually people shooting at us . One man went down when half of the back of his head painted the wall. Another doubled over. There was a grunt from my captor and I swung my head back to see a red stripe across his shoulder. There was a second along his ribs.

“Come,” he ordered, dragging me again. This time it was real dragging. I couldn’t seem to get my legs to work. I kept staring down the hall at the pair of men who weren’t moving anymore.

He’d killed them.

Shouts carried toward us. More were coming.

My captor hauled me closer, then gave me a hard shake. “Run.”

I wasn’t even sure I could run.

One glance behind us showed more men approaching. If I said nothing, would they kill him? Would they kill me? What I wanted to do was get away from all of them.

His gun roared again. Then there was plaster from the wall splintering. Something hot scraped against me and it burned. The grip on my arm vanished. It took a moment to sink in that my captor was retreating down the hall ahead of us firing back at the men who were running toward us.

As much as I wanted to do something, anything, I didn’t move. I just stood there.

Two of the men ran past me, shooting after my captor. The roars of the guns made my ears hurt. Another man skidded to a halt in front of me. Then he said something in garbled language.

His mouth moved, but no sound registered. Was he actually talking to me? Why couldn’t I hear him? His scowl deepened and he caught me with the back of his hand. Honestly, it was a relief when my head hit the wall and darkness fell like a curtain.

The next time I opened my eyes, it was to darkness, a dank smell, and the sound of breathing around me. Low voices called out to each other. A mixture of Spanish and English. Enough that I could understand.

There was an old man. A young boy. A woman. A different, second woman. A third woman said something but she wasn’t speaking Spanish, it was French. More like Montreal French rather than Paris.

I cataloged the different sounds and accents. The voices in the dark told me a few things. The primary one was we were definitely not in the warehouse anymore. The second was we were moving. The third was someone had to relieve themselves and they’d made use of a pail.

It sounded awful. With care, I pushed myself up and tried to take a mental inventory. I hurt, but I still had on my panties, bra, and shirt. Nothing hurt any more than it had already.

My breast was still bruised and my head was stuffed with cotton and it ached. I was cold and hot at the same time. There was sweat on my arms. It was so humid in the truck. But the metal was cold against my legs.

Had all of that really happened? Had some other circle of hell come to take me from another? Where were we now? I had a thousand questions, and no answers.

Worse than all of that, my skin was still sticky. I leaned my head against the side of the—whatever we were in, a truck I supposed. The sound of the tires on the asphalt had a kind of soothing rhythm.

One of the kids started to cry and I closed my eyes. One of the kids. There were more kids on here than just that little boy. Had they also been in that warehouse? That image was too horrible to comprehend.

It was all just horrid period. I had no idea how long the truck moved, I was pretty sure I dozed off and snapped awake. My inner body clock was completely shot. I didn’t know what day or time it was.

The sudden application of the brakes jerked me out of the doze and to awareness. Eventually, we came to a complete stop. Were we at a gas station? Somewhere else?

Should we shout? Let someone know we were here? Even as these thoughts tumbled one over the other in my head, I swallowed back any sound as the other passengers began to hush each other.

I strained to listen. Were those voices? I wasn’t sure.

The sound of gunfire, however, registered clearly and I jerked with each shot that was fired.

I shoved a hand against my mouth to stifle any screams clawing their way out. Were we being stolen by someone else? What fucking twisted world had I fallen into? Was there a way out?

The sound of the latches going echoed through the container. Then a chain slid loose, and one of the huge doors creaked open and let light into the darkness. A light that blinded and I wasn’t the only one raising a hand to shield my eyes.

Fresh air rushed in, and it was cool against my sweat drenched skin. The flashlight was wielded by one of the men and he skated it over all of us. It gave me my first look at the other people on the truck with me.

Men. Women. Children.

All of us shackled and chained to the walls.

“Keep it together, Hawk,” one of the men said as he studied us. The disgust on his face wasn’t vicious. If anything, it was pained. The one without a flashlight climbed inside. He had keys that jangled.

Some of the women pulled back and worry rippled through the container. Fear was a sour taste in the back of my mouth, but I didn’t take my gaze off the newcomers.

Instead of attacking anyone, the newcomer knelt down and unlocked one of the older men’s chains. Then he gave him the keys and motioned to the rest of us.

With that, the newcomer leapt out. They were letting us go?

I really had no idea what they were doing, but the old man began to release us one by one. His shuffling steps were painfully slow, but I didn’t look too closely at this freedom.

Not yet.

I didn’t dare.

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