Explicit Instruction E-Book

Scarlett Finn

• Herausgeber: Moriona Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Lost, Flick walks into a nightmare. More terrifying than the evil that captured her, a looming silhouette offers a reprieve.
 
The epitome of danger, Rushe is abrupt, crude, domineering... and her only hope for survival.
 
Unlike anyone she’s ever known, he tells her what he wants, in such hot and filthy ways that her only choice is to submit. Her life is not the only thing on the line. Her heart and body have given themselves to him, death may be her only liberation.
 
Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.
 

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2014, 2023 Scarlett Finn

Published by Moriona Press 2023

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

First published in 2014

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. It may not be used to train AI software or for the creation of AI works.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.scarlettfinn.com

THE EXPLICIT SERIES

Explicit Instruction

Explicit Detail

Explicit Memory

Read them in order for maximized reading pleasure.

For other titles from Scarlett Finn, please read on after the story.

Click here if you’d like to leave a message for Scarlett.

Enjoy!

For my G…

My foolish integrity brought me here. I will always have faith in your guidance; you taught us well and I am eternally grateful.

CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-NINE

FORTY

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-TWO

FORTY-THREE

FORTY-FOUR

FORTY-FIVE

FORTY-SIX

FORTY-SEVEN

FORTY-EIGHT

FORTY-NINE

FIFTY

FIFTY-ONE

FIFTY-TWO

FIFTY-THREE

FIFTY-FOUR

FIFTY-FIVE

FIFTY-SIX

ONE

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Flick shouldn’t have bothered getting out of bed that day. The alarm hadn’t gone off and her shower went on the fritz. With no other choice, she’d washed in the trickle of cold water that greeted her.

When she got into work, late, her colleague, Tamara, delighted in pointing out the run in her pantyhose. That meant a quick trip to the washroom to take them off. On her return to the front desk, her boss had been waiting. Though he was pissed off she wasn’t at her post, he hadn’t hesitated to commandeer her in his office.

Geoffrey loved the sound of his own voice. What should have been a quick chat took up almost an hour. His berating her for not completing a delegated assignment took up more of her day than completing the task actually did.

From there, the day had gone from bad to worse. The cherry on her cake was the cab breaking down on the way to a date she hadn’t even wanted to go on in the first place. Her phone battery was dead. Of course. Because she had forgotten, for maybe the first time ever, to charge it overnight.

The cab driver was lost or taking the scenic route. Whatever the reason, when the vehicle sputtered and stopped, all she could do was roll her eyes to the heavens.

The driver shouted in some unknown language and got out to pop the hood, though it was clear he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. After five minutes of him babbling in her face like it was her fault, she’d turned on her heels and started to walk.

In the cab, miles had passed since she’d seen anything familiar. So there she was traipsing through a crappy area in the dark, searching for salvation. Her four-inch spikes were nipping at her toes. If it hadn’t been raining, she’d have taken them off. Though her feet screamed, the pair she’d elected to wear weren’t her most painful. Small mercies. Topping out at five three she needed the height boost. All her shoes were heels, even those she wore to work.

The first sign of life she’d seen for six blocks was the lights in a corner bar. Oddly, there were no windows. A sign hung above the door calling the place “Dell’s” and the beer bottle beneath revealed it was a bar.

Hoping they would have a phone, and a number for the nearest cab company, she reached for the long brass handle. She didn’t get a chance to push before a deep masculine voice came from seemingly nowhere.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She hadn’t been aware of anyone but peered into the black of the alleyway to her left where it seemed the voice had come from.

“Excuse me?” she asked, though she still didn’t see anyone.

“Keep walking, Red,” he grumbled.

His casual impatience grated. “Last time I checked, this was a free country.”

“Check again.”

“Do you own this establishment?”

“No,” he said.

“Then what right do you have to prohibit my entry?”

“Trust me,” he said. “You want to keep walking.”

“I don’t actually. I really don’t,” Flick said. “Who are you?”

“A good Samaritan.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” she said. “Excuse me.”

“No—”

His impatience was gone in that exclamation, but she ignored him and swung open the door to stride inside.

Immediately she regretted it. Six men sat around one table in the center of the room. Two more stood at the bar, two more were positioned behind it. A group of eight loitered around the pool table. The space was small, dim, and reeked of cigarette smoke. With bare floorboards, no decoration, and a single lazy ceiling fan, this wasn’t her usual locale. The unexpected entrance drew the attention of every man in the room.

Her parched throat wouldn’t allow words to pass. While three of the men at the center table wore suits, it was possible the others hadn’t bathed for weeks judging by the look of them.

“What the hell is this?” one of the suited men exclaimed. “I thought you had a guy on look out.”

“She don’t look like a cop to me,” one of the men from the pool table said. He discarded his cue to move in her direction with half a dozen others in his wake. “We’ll take care of her.”

It took time for her feet to register what that glint in his eye meant. As soon as they did, she turned to flee, except the pack of hungry wolves closed in around her.

Three of them grabbed her, ignoring her scream to lift her off her feet.

“No!” she shouted, fighting to free herself as they dragged her past the table of seated men. “No! Please! I’m sorry! I’ll leave!”

“Not now you won’t,” one of her assailants said.

The gang wrestled her past the pool table, following the two that scurried over to open a door in a shadowy corner. Her screams, her pleading, her kicking and fighting, none of it meant anything to these attackers. They hoisted her through the door into a dark room.

No lights, no windows, no sense of anything tangible until she was tossed down onto what felt like a thin mattress. The blackness was disorienting. Where should she go? Where was out? How could she run when she didn’t know where the men were? Where was the exit? How many of them were there now?

Someone snatched her arm and jerked it against a metal bar. With a grating snick, a cuff locked around her wrist. She yanked and objected, metal rattled against metal, but her arm couldn’t get free.

It had to be a bed. They’d secured her to a bed.

The men grumbled and laughed with delight at their apparent good fortune.

“No, please, I’m sorry. There’s been a mistake,” Flick said, still tugging at the cuff. “I want to leave. I need to go.”

“We’ve got uses for a chick like you,” someone snarled.

“No, you don’t want to do this.”

When her other arm was grabbed, she fought as best she could. These goddamn men were stronger than her. They forced her onto her back and another cuff clamped around her other wrist. No! Goddamn! They were cuffing her to the bedframe!

“Who’s first?” they asked each other.

Tears burned in her eyes, her muscles screamed while adrenaline surged. She had to fight, to shout and kick. What chance was there for rescue? No one passed her on her walk. Even if someone heard her, would they come to her aid? Would they have a hope of saving her given the number of assailants?

“Shut it! You’ll piss off the boss. He’ll make us kill you before we get our fun!”

Doing nothing wasn’t an option. The hope of rescue was slim, but she wouldn’t surrender without a fight. Death would be preferable to letting these men assault her. How had her life changed so fast? She didn’t want to die, didn’t want to lose her life. Yet there she was, trapped and terrified, contemplating the end.

The mattress shifted and a hot, moist hand squeezed her breast. “Big melons for such a little thing, you think she’s legal?”

“You care?”

“No,” the one who fondled her breast said. “She’ll do.”

“Or we’ll do… her!” one of them exclaimed to the laughter of the others.

The assaulting hand moved, but relief was premature. It landed on her thigh and went up under her skirt to touch the lace of her underwear. Clamping her legs closed, she forced her thighs to bar his entry.

He snorted a laugh. “I think she’s gonna fight it,” he said, taking hold of her underwear band.

“I love it when they fight,” another said.

The fabric was pulled, yanked apart and torn from her skin. Tears slipped from her eyes, their heat trailing down her temples to her ears. Her thighs stayed together; it was all she could do to protect her virtue. What were her options? There had to be a way out. A something. Anything. She needed a miracle, salvation, her desperation grew. This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be happening.

The bed shifted again. A heavy body landed on hers, squashing her down so hard, the springs from beneath dug into her back.

A wet tongue lapped at her neck. “You’re gonna love what we have in store,” the slobberer said.

Keeping his weight on her, he wrestled with the skirt of her dress, forcing it up to her waist. He tried to get his hand between the clamp of her thighs, but she thrashed around, using all her strength, striving to buck him off. It didn’t work. Damn, the bastard just stayed right there, the slick moisture of his rancid breath flooding her skin.

“Open up for me, little thing, you’ll love it. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please let me go.”

“Can’t do that,” he said, trying to wiggle a finger downward, “you’ve seen us.”

Licking from her chin to her cleavage, he bit her breast.

She screamed again. Screamed until her throat burned in agony.

“It’s not your turn!” one of the others said.

By the way the body on top of her rocked, she guessed he’d been shoved by one of his cohorts.

“Yeah! You went first last time!”

Her body vibrated in trembling terror. Her head swam like she could pass out at any second. Still, she cried, trying to keep her wits about her while her body sought to shut down.

The disgusting weight of this lump on top of her was bigger and stronger. Her attempt to free herself was fruitless, but she couldn’t give in. She just couldn’t.

Three men sniped at each other until a door opened. There wasn’t much more light from the outer room. A tall, broad silhouette blocked a lot of it out, it stayed there, looming on the threshold.

The illumination was just enough to see that yes, she was cuffed to the bed, and there wasn’t another stick of furniture in the room.

With the men distracted, she tried to battle her bonds. They were secure, she had no hope of escape, yet she fought anyway.

“What the hell you doing in here?” one of the guys shouted. “You’re meant to be outside.”

“Your turn on watch,” the silhouette said.

“Hey no! We got fun here, man!”

“Don’t worry,” the silhouette grumbled. “I’ll take over.”

“You?” a second said.

The foul-smelling lump on top of her shifted to roll off and speak to the silhouette too. “You never have a go.”

“This one got past me,” the silhouette said. “Gotta teach her a lesson.”

The man above her mumbled, fumbling each of her breasts again before getting up and stomping out of the room past the silhouette.

“You can go first but you’ve got five minutes—”

“Out,” the silhouette said. “Both of you.”

“Wait a fuck—”

“Make me say it twice, and it’ll be the last thing you hear.”

“Okay, but I’m next, and I—”

“I don’t share,” the silhouette said to the men who tramped past him.

Though both stopped, evidently ready to say more, the silhouette stepped into the room and closed the door in their faces.

Silence unnerved her. In the darkness, she had no idea where he was, or what he was doing. Was he about to attack? Loosening his jeans so he could… The man was bigger, wider, and far more terrifying than the other three.

The other three had been scared of this man. They’d followed his orders. Would it be worse to have the three of them taking turns or this one man taking until there was nothing left of her?

“Please,” she whispered. “I won’t tell a soul anything I’ve seen. I promise if you let me go—”

“I told you to keep walking, Red,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. If I’d known, I… please let me go.”

“Can’t do that. It’s impossible… Do you want to know what these men do to women?”

“No.”

“Whatever the hell they want,” he said, carrying on regardless. “Women don’t make it out alive. They take turns. They’ll beat you. They’ll rape you. They’ll make you do every painful and demeaning thing they can think of, and then they’ll torture you. They won’t just kill you. They’ll make sure you know about it. A while back a lucky one was asphyxiated by Skeeve’s cock. He liked that one. He still tells the story of fucking her windpipe. Skeeve’s the small guy with the creepy eyes. The one on top of you we call Shiv. He likes to cut. He tells the story of one, he amputated her breasts and fucked her with a pocketknife. She bled out for an age before she died.”

She didn’t want to hear it. Any thought of freedom dissolved with his words. Her throat wanted to close. As much as she didn’t want these men to touch her, she didn’t want them to kill her either. The sobbing became unbearable, and she screamed again. Helpless, chained up there like an animal, she could hardly move.

“What about you?” she wept. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Boss is diversifying into trafficking. We’d get a good price for a little thing like you. I’d get a nod for that, ‘specially if you were untouched.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “Please.”

“We’ll be out of here in minutes, business is nearly done.”

“You’re going to kill me? Now?”

“I told you it’s not quick,” he said. “Shooting you now would be a mercy.”

“So… what are you going to do?” she asked. A surge of adrenaline boosted her heartrate. “My family will notice I’m gone! My boyfriend will call the police! They know where I am! They’ll find you!”

“No, they won’t,” he said, humor in his voice.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“No,” he said. “But maybe next time you’ll think twice about doing what you’re told.”

“If you had… I didn’t know what was in here. If you’d told me outside—”

“I tried. If it wasn’t so fucking tragic, I’d say it serves you right.”

“You think I deserve this?” she asked, pulling against her restraints. “You think any woman—”

“No,” he said, suddenly solemn.

“Let me go,” she whispered. “Please.”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?”

Her impulse was to scream, to shout. His benign question took her off guard. Maybe if she could put a human face on the situation, he’d show some mercy. Like naming the stray who comes to your stoop, you choose to keep and care for him after he has a name.

“Felicity,” she said. “Felicity Hughes. Everyone calls me Flick.”

“Flick,” he said.

The mattress moved.

She tensed ready to scream again, but he didn’t touch her. “What’s your name?”

“They call me Rushe,” he said. “What are you doing in this neighborhood?”

“Cab broke down,” she said. “I was looking for a phone.”

“You don’t carry a cellphone?”

“Battery is dead. I thought it was a hellish day before this…”

“I’ll say. Chances of you getting out of this alive are slim.”

Fresh tears burned her eyes. “You can let me go.” Her wobbling chin tried to contain another scream. “Right now. Please, just let me go.”

“To what?” he asked. “You’ll have to walk back through that room. If they think I’m not… they’ll finish what I haven’t started yet.”

“Yet?”

Three heavy thumps shook on the door startling her again. The bed moved then he was off it.

“I’ll uncuff you, but you’ve got to stay close to me,” he said. “Do as you’re told.”

“You’re going to let me go?”

“No. I haven’t had my fun with you yet.”

“Please!” she screeched in the desperation from her heart.

Any thought this man might be better than the others disappeared with those words. The cuffs were loosened, and she was pulled to her feet. Her weak, wobbling legs didn’t hold out, so she snatched for an anchor, only to come up against him.

Solid didn’t begin to describe this man. Every part of him was hard muscle. His huge hand curled all the way around her upper arm. He tugged her body away from his, keeping hold of her with a vice grip.

Her torn underwear slid downwards, so she grabbed for it.

Rushe pulled her up, probably thinking she was about to pass out. “Am I gonna have to carry you?”

“No, my… my underwear, your friend tore it and…”

If it got tangled up and she fell over, smashing her face somewhere, these men would have free rein over her unconscious body.

“Get it,” Rushe demanded and tossed her back to the bed again.

Hooking it off her bare feet, her shoes had been lost somewhere, sometime. That was the least of her worries.

TWO

As if he could see in the dark, Rushe snatched the thong and grabbed her again to haul her back to her feet.

It took him two strides to get to the door while she needed twice as many. He didn’t slow down. Jerking the door from its frame, he marched out. Anger emanated from him; she could feel it in the way he moved.

She hadn’t seen his face, but in the gloom of the bar she got a better look at his frame. Being small she was used to people, men especially, being bigger than her. This Rushe was a clear foot taller, if not more, with wide shoulders, narrow hips, and long strong legs wrapped in faded jeans.

“You got our toy?” the man Rushe had identified as Skeeve asked practically buzzing with excitement.

There were fewer men around, only five left including Rushe. Shiv was holding open the door she’d used to enter. One door. How could opening one door change your whole life?

“Glen’s first,” Shiv said. “Then I’m up.”

Rushe said nothing. He dragged her out onto the wet street, and any distant dream of freedom disappeared when she was thrown headfirst into the back of a truck idling by the curb. Still on her face, Rushe got in behind her and shunted her against the far door. The cold glass of the window came up harshly on her cheek.

“Put your seatbelt on,” he grumbled at her.

Rushe didn’t look at her when he said it, but his diligence surprised her, and she did as told. Three others piled in the front and the truck got moving. The speed would have concerned her if she wasn’t desperately in need of a cop to stop them. Soon they were out of the street, the town, and on the highway.

“If you’re not having your go, I’m going now,” Skeeve said from Rushe’s other side.

“You’ll keep it in your pants,” Rushe said. “I ain’t watching that.”

The three up front laughed.

“Yeah!” Shiv exclaimed. “You’ll embarrass yourself.”

Panic gripped her again. This wasn’t a quick trip around the corner. They were traveling somewhere. The further they went, the greater her urge to jump out became. Except on the interstate, traveling at what felt like ninety, she couldn’t leap from the car and hope to survive.

The reality of her situation clawed at her. Unlike she’d claimed, her family wouldn’t miss her. She hadn’t seen her parents or sisters for almost a year. None of them kept in touch. That was as much on her as it was on them.

She didn’t have a boyfriend either. The date that put her in the cab and set her on this path was a first date, and he’d likely just think she stood him up. Hayden and she had met in a coffeeshop, so he wouldn’t notice she was missing from work.

And work, Tamara couldn’t stand her, and Geoffrey had been prickly since she’d refused to go on a date with him. Plus, this was a long weekend, and being Friday night, she wasn’t due back into work until Wednesday. They’d let her miss a few days without thinking anything other than she was being unreliable. Then the weekend would come, so it would be more than a week before anyone thought about reporting her missing.

“You’re gonna be right at home little girl,” Skeeve drawled. “Right at home.”

Sitting in the back of this truck, Flick stared blindly at her knees. Rushe took up most of the space, but she was glad that he sat next to Skeeve instead of her.

When she did glance up Shiv was peering over his shoulder at her. Skeeve was creepy and eager, but Shiv was evil. With that leering smile and those narrow eyes she could believe he’d killed a woman for no reason other than his own entertainment. Killing someone in the way Rushe had described was not out of necessity. The man at Shiv’s side stole glances too but he seemed younger, jumpier, a bit twitchy, and nervous.

Skeeve shifted his hips forward and began to fumble with his belt. “I say the girl’s gotta earn her keep,” he said.

“Hey, yeah!” Shiv said from the front. “Give her something to eat! A taste of what’s to come.”

The men guffawed. Her fingernails bit into her thighs. Her body was so tightly coiled she wanted to scream and self-combust.

“You don’t touch my property,” Rushe rumbled. “None of you. You not clear on the rules?”

When he spoke, she was never aware of his lips moving, or eyes, or anything. And they weren’t words as much as a bassy variety of vibrations from his chest. The third man was nervous. She had no read on the driver. And Rushe…? He was unreadable.

Keeping her attention on her knees, she tried to forget her surroundings, the men, and what lay ahead.

The length of the journey offered a reprieve. Whatever her future held, she didn’t want to think about potential details.

All the men muttered, but none of them stood up to Rushe. If he claimed her the others would respect that. Maybe respect wasn’t the word, but they wouldn’t refute it.

Rushe was broad but lean, and the heat of his rock-hard thigh against her made her physically quiver. This man was athletic but agile, and while he might not say much an awareness shimmered around him that spoke of a quick mind.

But these men feared him. His position had to be superior to theirs, or he’d asserted his authority somehow. The muttering continued, but Rushe was unaffected.

The air was thick, humid, and the tension apparent. In this vehicle, there was no honor among thieves.

Life went on. How many people were going about their oblivious business while people like her were traumatized and assaulted? No one thought about it. Her included. What it would be like to be a victim of a crime… until it happened to them.

Hayden would’ve left the restaurant assuming she was rude or callous. No one would miss her. He’d be in a cab, on his way home, cursing her name. Flick was alone.

When her family cast her out a year ago, she’d learned the hard way what being alone meant. She’d staggered like Bambi on ice, unable to find her feet. After having her purse snatched on two separate occasions, she’d thought herself independent and bad ass. Boy did this scenario put that into perspective.

The black of night stretched into the souls of the men in this vehicle, and when it left the highway, they drove for more than twenty minutes into more gloom. Streetlights and civilization were a long-forgotten dream; darkness and trees were the only things outside now.

The trees thickened, and their vehicle swung around a narrow bend into a side lane. From the bumping and bouncing Flick knew they were off-road. This wasn’t a concrete thoroughfare. They dodged trees and the bumping increased. Cresting a ridge, they fell into a dip and Flick came out of her seat, landing on top of Rushe.

Skeeve whooped and took the chance to grab for her breast. Rushe shoved her aside as an inconvenience but that took her out of Skeeve’s reach. Thank God.

Then after a series of mounds the whole vehicle lurched to a stop. All the men piled out. Rushe reached over her to open the door, then shoved her out.

Any thought Flick had about running vanished when mud seeped between her toes and over her feet. Trees barred her view from every angle. All she could see was the truck and a shack.

Calling it a shack was polite. A rickety old porch seemed to hold the walls in place like a belt holding in the beer gut of a darts player.

As she was still stuttering at the view that didn’t even allow moonlight through the canopy, Rushe grabbed her arm and regardless of her unstable footing, dragged her toward the shack in the wake of the rowdy men leading the way.

Going up the creaking wooden stairs, it hit her that walking in there was final. Taking the chance, she dug in her heels and tried to liberate her arm. Rushe wasn’t deterred. In spite of her struggling and screaming, he hoisted her off her feet and stomped into the shack to cross the width of the room.

Without thought for the others, he shoved open a door, carried her in, and threw her down onto the floor with a thud. Before she could scramble away, he caught her hands to tie them to the pipe that ran along the wall.

The room was small, little more than a cell, ten-foot square with a single bed, and a short set of drawers at its side. Rushe yanked open the top one and pulled out a folded pair of socks, which he held up to her.

“You gonna keep your mouth shut?” he said.

Rushe hadn’t put a light on, so she still didn’t get a good look at him. But the angles of his face told her he wasn’t to be messed with.

“I—”

“There’s no one around here for thirty miles,” he said. “Scream yourself raw and you’ll only piss me off. You want this in your mouth?”

“I got something she can put in there.”

Rushe spun on the man she hadn’t noticed either. “You get the fuck out of here.”

After he hurled the door into its frame, he came back to her.

“Please let me go.”

“I’m not letting you go,” he said. “If you keep your mouth shut and stay put, we won’t have a problem… Are you gonna do what you’re told this time?”

Argument died on her lips; reason wouldn’t get her anywhere. In fairness, the last time she hadn’t heeded his word she’d got herself into this mess, so she nodded.

“Good girl.”

With that he left her alone in the darkness. The finality of that closing door sent tears skittering down her cheeks. She’d never leave this house again, or at least she wouldn’t leave it alive, of that she was absolutely sure.

THREE

She’d given up her attempts to hear what was going on beyond the room. Voices came and went. They got louder then dimmed. Voices laughed then growled, jeered and joked. It went on for hours.

At least she assumed it was hours. With her hands restrained against the pipe, she couldn’t see her watch. Not that it would matter, because there was no light but for the sliver glowing under the door.

Everything had happened so fast. She replayed events over in her mind. How had she gotten into this mess? From being on the street dwelling on her crappy day, to there, alone in this small room, waiting for her jailer to return.

Rushe hadn’t harmed her physically, but she couldn’t be sure that would last. For all she knew they were out there getting drunk, waiting to attack her when they got up the courage. But men like those in that back room at Dell’s didn’t need an excuse to assault a woman. They’d been willing to do it since they set eyes on her. Rushe hadn’t. He had tried to warn her against going into that bar.

She’d never been known for toeing any line. Perhaps she entered Dell’s in defiance of Rushe’s request. That did sound like something she’d do. Once again, her stubbornness had gotten her into trouble.

But the how didn’t matter, she was there now. In that isolated shack, with at least five men. The only thing standing between her and further harm was Rushe. His motivation was unclear, and he hadn’t clued her in on his intentions. All she could do was wait.

Hope didn’t linger. If she had believed that kicking and screaming and raising bloody hell would liberate her, she would do it. But Rushe had warned her against it. Pissing him off could lead to him stepping aside, leaving her at the mercy of the depraved animals who had tethered her to the bed in Dell’s.

Her body grew heavy. Her feet were cold, and her legs had fallen asleep from the hardness of the bare boards beneath her rear. Her hands had long since gone numb. The weight of the night settled on her, so her eyes began to drift closed.

Just when the exhaustion was about to overcome her, footfalls came closer, and the door opened. She squinted into the burst of light that died when the door closed again. There was one step, then a squeak of the bed.

Unexpectedly, light flooded the space dazzling her. But she couldn’t raise her hand to shield her eyes, so she blinked into it. The light came from a lamp on top of the drawers. Rushe sat there on the bed with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped, just looking at her.

The harsh line of his brow intimidated, but his mid-length thick dark brown hair was wild, finger-combed and curled over his ears. Though it needed a wash it looked butter soft. The stubble on his jaw was more than a couple of days of growth. But his coloring and rough look was nothing to the ferocity of his black-as-night eyes. The longer he sat there looking at her the more self-conscious she became.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“How old are you?” Again, his lips never moved.

“Fifteen if it makes a difference.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I’m twenty-seven. Are you going to let me go now?”

“No,” he said, still studying her.

“Where are we?”

“Far away from everything.”

Noise from elsewhere in the shack had died down. Had the others left? No. Luck certainly wasn’t shining on her.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked. “You told me what the others were into. Are you going to turn me out to them when you’ve had your way?”

“Are you going to behave?”

“I’ve been quiet, just like I said I would be. Please tell me what you’re going to do.”

When she blinked, hot moisture rolled over her lashes.

“Don’t do that,” he said, almost wincing.

“Do what?” she asked as another sob shook her throat. “Please, I want to go home!”

With blurred vision and a gasping sob, she dropped her face to her knees. Reality had become unbearable. Each hair on her skin shuddered with fear and exhaustion.

Reflecting on past decisions led to regret. Things she hadn’t considered for years, she rethought, wishing things went differently. Now she wouldn’t have a chance to fix her mistakes.

She didn’t hear him move. The clench around her heart was all-consuming. The weight in her chest came with the knowledge her life was going to be brutally cut short.

Someone touched the back of her head. Raising her face from her knees, she found him seated on the floor right in front of her. As more tears escaped, he tucked her hair away, and shifted closer to gather her into his arms.

Much as she knew this man was to be feared, the strength in his hold and the stability of his chest gave her a security that she needed to lean on in that minute. He held her body against his, offering comfort without taking advantage, or copping a feel.

Her tears dried. Falling apart in the embrace of a stranger wasn’t typical behavior. But the shock of his gentle, unfamiliar act wasn’t the reason for her upset vanishing. For some reason, he actually made her feel better. These arms, if used for good, would be formidable.

“Are you going to have sex with me?” she asked, resting her weight against him.

“No,” he said. The vibration of bass in his chest rumbled through her. “But it will be in your interest to let Skeeve and the others think otherwise.”

“Why?”

“Because if they think I’m doing you they’ll leave you alone… Do you want them to touch you?”

“Of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “Why can’t you let me go?”

“I was serious, there’s nothing around here for miles. You wouldn’t get far. These men are into serious shit you don’t want to get mixed up in. I can’t guarantee that you’re going to get out of this.”

“You’re not like them, are you?”

In an instant, he let her go and got back onto his feet. “You better not get comfortable, Red,” he said. “You walked right into the snake pit. Don’t trust anyone. Everyone here has an agenda.”

“What’s your agenda?”

Producing a pocketknife, he cut through her bonds. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” she said.

The socks he’d threatened her with earlier lay on the bed until he grabbed them up and lobbed them at her.

“Put those on, it gets cold in here.”

“Where are we?” she asked, rubbing the blood back into her legs.

“Get up and walk,” he said. “You’ll cramp.”

While this sounded like a suggestion, he snatched her, and yanked her up to her feet. “You haven’t spent much time around people, have you?”

She shouldn’t sass the man who held her captive, but it didn’t matter because just as he’d ignored her questions, he ignored her statement. Rushe retrieved a dark red and black flannel shirt, which he threw at her.

“Put that on.”

Her extremities were still tingling with the cramp he’d warned her about, but she managed to catch the items. “I…”

“Take off the dress,” he said, dropping onto the bed to unlace his boots.

“What? But you… you said—”

“Take it off,” he said, kicking his boots off.

When he stood up, he turned his back on her. It took her a second to figure out he was giving her privacy, respecting her modesty.

Not wanting to miss the window she unzipped her dress and let it drop while stuffing her arms into the soft material of his shirt.

It smelled clean, and masculine, something in it gave her refuge. The sleeves hung down well past her hands and the length reached her knees. Despite not wearing underwear, this garment actually gave her more cover than her own clothes had.

At the same time she bent to pick up her dress he turned and snatched it away from her. His reason for doing so was no clearer to her when he ripped the silk and flung it aside.

“Why did you…?”

“Do you want to have sex?”

“No!”

“Then you weren’t going to strip down willingly for me.”

Tearing the dress as he would have to if he was going to force himself on her. “You want them to think… why would you want them to think that you’re a rapist?”

“Street cred,” he grumbled and whipped off his tee-shirt.

She froze at the sight of his torso, his broad chest and washboard abs. In all her experience with men, she’d never seen such a perfect specimen. Every sinewy inch of him was toned, his muscular stance was lean but powerful. Her temptation to touch, to see if he was real, had her transfixed.

“Get on the bed.”

“What?” she asked, snapping out of her trance.

“Get on the bed,” he said, retrieving some twine from a drawer.

“But I don’t—”

“There are two other rooms like this one,” Rushe said. “The other guys sleep out there. If you run, you’ll meet them on your way out.”

Grabbing her arm, he began to bind her wrist. “What are you doing?”

“If you fight against this it will cut you, and you don’t want an open wound out here. Infection’s a certainty,” he said, tying the twine. “Come.”

Using the twine leash on her wrist, Rushe led her to the bed. When he leaned to the far corner, she fell on the bed, and he tied the other end of the twine to the metal bedpost.

“Why are you binding me?”

“I don’t want to look for you in the woods when you do something stupid. If those guys get hold of you, you’re on your own.”

“What?”

“Don’t get any big ideas,” he said. “If you’re a nuisance, I’ll let them have you.”

“Why did you stop them?”

Rushe gave her a shove toward the far corner, and she scrambled out of the way when he dropped onto the bed. On his side, he turned off the lamp and kept his back to her. Briefly, he punched at the wafer-thin pillow, before he folded his arms with a grunt.

“Get some sleep.”

She slithered down onto her side on the bed at his back. She didn’t have much space but keeping herself tucked away against the wall, she managed to prevent them from touching. Tears burned her sinuses again.

The more that was revealed of her savior, the more questions she had. Her tears receded as she pondered the perplexity. He’d comforted her, then he’d bound her. He’d given her privacy, then demanded her submission. Rushe was a contradiction in so many ways.

She wondered if he’d let her understand where they were, and what was happening… and what her fate might be. But he hadn’t answered questions. That may not change.

Being bound to the metal bedpost was awkward on her wrist; sleep would be elusive. At least for now she was out of harm’s way, and in this situation that was the most she could hope for.

FOUR

With there being no windows in the room, morning couldn’t intrude upon them. But the shack must have awoken because something made her stir. The woodsy smell mingled with a musky something she couldn’t identify.

In the mumbling of her dream-soaked mind, she wriggled into the warmth that encircled her. This fog was comfy and cozy. She’d be happy to stay in it for a while.

Except on another sigh, something vibrated against her chest. The hard bed that heated her seemed to be grumbling. Opening her eyes, her bed was breathing. Hot, humid breath clouded her hair and the memory of last night smashed into her.

Trying to shove upward, her arm stalled against the post he’d tied her to. Flattening her palm on his naked pectoral, she pushed up, taking her head out from beneath his chin, snagging her hair on his stubble.

She was on top of him, their bodies chest to chest. Rushe’s eyes were closed still in sleep, she guessed. With him on his back, taking up all the bed space, and her tethered, there was nowhere to go. His arms were heavy and strong around her. One of his hands twined through her hair on the back of her skull.

The other hand was under the shirt she was wearing. His shirt. The apparel had been shoved out of the way to allow his large hand to palm her buttock. It rested there with complete entitlement.

If she was offended, she got over it fast with the distraction of what was under her, pressing into her abdomen. Thick and long… and hard. The daunting lump could only be one thing, and it made her eyes water. If he forced that on her, or any woman, she’d be split in two.

Trying desperately to stay still, she became hyperaware of every breath. The deeper she inhaled the farther that intruding, pulsing wood beneath her became. Her experience with men was limited. She wouldn’t for a second consider herself worldly. In her first life, the life she’d left when her parents cast her out, men were careful. Or maybe they weren’t that worldly themselves.

Having two older sisters meant she was used to being in shadow. Both of her sisters were gregarious and got the attention of the playboys who came to the Country Club. Her parents turned a blind eye to dalliances in their younger days, and both women fell into line when their father deemed it time.

Lucia married Roger Willis three years ago. When Flick last saw them, Vivian had been engaged to Martin Schifford. Both men were now executives in their father’s firm.

Despite how they’d left things, she thought about her family every day. The disappointment she’d caused them hung like a lead weight around her neck.

Reliving past pain wouldn’t help. Thinking about what had happened was difficult enough without acknowledging she’d likely never see any of them again. She wouldn’t have the chance to air her grievances or make amends.

Thus far a truce had been impossible because her family refused to accept their own fault in the situation. The only concession they’d been interested in was hers. It was only when she refused for a final time that all ties between them had been cut.

Her shack mattress grumbled and sucked in a breath, raising her up, digging that lump further into her. Thinking about family relaxed her, considering the issue, she stroked her hand up and down his muscled flesh.

On another mutter, she was thrown aside, and he sprang out of bed, stretched, and strode out of the room without a word.

The cold he’d warned her about seeped in, and the twine nipped at her wrist. Using her one free hand, she tried to shift it out of the furrow it had created in her skin. But she couldn’t move it so went to work on the bedpost. No luck loosening it from there either.

After at least ten minutes of trying, she gave up… until the nightstand caught her eye. In the top drawer, she shoved aside socks and tee-shirts and other useless items like gum and deodorant trying to find something that could cut the twine.

She grazed cold metal and paused. Pushing a tee-shirt aside, she identified it… a gun. Letting her fingers slide over the textured surface of the grip, she picked it up to be surprised by the weight.

The door opened, startling her. Rushe noticed the gun in her grip and lowered the towel he’d been using to dry his hair, shoving the door closed at his back.

“What you gonna do with that?” he asked.

He threw the towel to the corner, on top of her discarded dress.

“Let me go,” she said, trying to stop the weapon shaking in her hand.

“‘kay,” he said, producing a knife from his pocket.

The line of hair that descended from his navel disappeared into his unbuttoned jeans. She hadn’t seen any underwear in the drawer, which meant he couldn’t be wearing any.

Rushe came toward her with the knife. Her clarity stuck in a mental groove. With a swift knock on her wrist, the gun was gone and somehow in his grip.

The speed of his maneuver left her head spinning. She sat back on her haunches, somehow not surprised by his surprising action.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” Rushe asked, stashing the gun back in the drawer then buttoning his jeans.

“What?” she asked. “I threaten you with a gun, and that’s your question?”

“You didn’t threaten me, Red,” he said. “You didn’t do much of anything. What’s his name?”

“Why?” she asked. “Why would you ask me that?”

“‘Cause when we’re through here, I’m gonna pay him a visit.”

“A visit? Why would—”

“He’s got no sense sending his woman out into the world—”

“His woman?” she asked.

“You could’ve helped yourself,” he said. “That, with the gun, what was that?”

“I—”

“You’ve been threatened with sexual and physical harm,” he said, opening the drawer and pulling out the gun again.

He thrust it into her hands and fell to his knees at the side of the bed.

“What are you—”

Rushe grabbed the barrel and brought it to his forehead. “Shoot,” he said. “Shoot me, take the guys out there by surprise, kill them, find the truck keys, and get the hell out of here.”

“You want me to kill you?”

“When I came through that door, you should’ve shot first and asked questions later.”

“But… but I…”

Rushe still held the barrel but the shaking in her hands increased. “You can’t do it,” he said, shoving the gun aside with disgust. “If your life is in danger, you pull the trigger. Don’t think about it. Shoot. Do you know how dangerous the knowledge you’ve just given me is? You can’t defend yourself. I can do whatever the hell I want with you.”

Snagging a tee-shirt from the drawer, he tossed the gun back to its place. When Rushe put on his shirt, she was hit with a barb of disappointment that his body was no longer on show for her.

“You’ve been nice to me,” she whispered.

He immediately stopped. “What?”

“You haven’t threatened me,” she said. “If I shot you, I’d lose my only ally here.”

“I’m not your ally,” he said. “I told you not to be a nuisance.”

When he began to move her hand shot out to catch his jeans pocket, stalling him. “I won’t hurt you,” she said. “You haven’t hurt me.”

“I tied you up.”

“For my own good,” she said. “You said it yourself that your colleagues are out there.”

“If I had stopped you going into that bar—”

“You blame yourself. That’s why you’ve been looking after me.”

“I told you not to trust anyone.”

“You’ve given me no reason not to trust you,” she said.

“I woke up molesting you.”

“Is that why you stormed out of here?” she asked. “You were asleep. There was no harm done. I was the one on top of you. Do you want me to apologize?”

Rushe lunged down, grabbing her chin to force her face up to within an inch of his. The maneuver stretched her imprisoned arm, sending a stinging pain through it.

“What the fuck do I have to do to you? I’m dangerous. You’re in a lot of trouble here, Red. You better watch yourself, or I’ll throw you out there.”

“But you wouldn’t hurt me yourself,” she said. “If you were going to let them have me, you’d have done it already… that’s why I trust you.” He said nothing. “Do you know how dangerous the knowledge you’ve just given me is?”

“You’re coming out of here to get some food,” he said, choosing not to respond to her statement.

“Out?” she said, tensing and regretting her sass. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“You’re not being punished,” he said. “You can’t stay in here. You need to eat… unless you want to starve?”

“Couldn’t you bring something in?”

“I’m no waiter and this is no hotel.”

Rushe leaned in to slash her restraints. As soon as she was free, he hauled her to her feet and unwound the twine.

“It hurts,” she said.

“I told you not to fight it,” he said, tossing the twine to the floor. “Why don’t you do what you’re told?”

“I was sleeping.”

With her in his grip, Rushe yanked her to the door. “Do not talk to anyone,” he ordered. “You speak only to me and only when spoken to.”

“But—”

“Consider this free advice that will keep you alive. All of them will touch and taunt. As far as they’re concerned, we’ve been in here all night fucking. You are my bitch.”

“Touch?” she asked.

“You’re going to eat, sit quietly, and do exactly what you’re told, understand?”

That might have been a question, but Rushe didn’t wait for a response. He dragged her out of the closest thing she’d had to a safe space in this shack and straight into the lion’s den.

FIVE

Starvation was preferable over what was outside that bedroom. The living space stretched the full width of the structure. A couch and a pull out bed were at the far end. Closest to their room, a TV occupied a cardboard box table with a few other chairs next to an empty fireplace.

Another door stood next to their bedroom. Rushe took her to the ramshackle kitchen, jutting away from the middle of the living room forming the lower part of a T shape. Two doors on the other side, she guessed, were bedrooms too.

“Breakfast and a show,” Skeeve said when Rushe nudged her down into a chair at the central table. “Come sit over here.” Skeeve pushed away from the table and rubbed his lap.

Shiv sat at another side of the table with the twitchy kid and the driver in another two places. In the harsh light of day, all four of them appeared pathetic but no less sinister. Her estimations of them didn’t change though the Kid seemed more interested in her today.

“You had your fill yet?” Shiv asked the room while leering at her chest, though it was covered by Rushe’s shirt.

“It’s hot in here little girl,” Skeeve smirked. “Why don’t you undo a few of those buttons?”

Shiv snickered, and the Kid’s eyes flared in hope. Skeeve leaned forward and took hold of her knee. Pulling it aside his other hand groped up her thigh.

Rushe stood at the kitchen counter with his back to proceedings. Just like he’d said, she was on her own.

Trying to free herself she pulled away, but Shiv lunged forward to grab her shoulders.

“Glen get the shirt!” Shiv exclaimed and the driver pounced to his feet.

Without escape, options were bleak, but she wouldn’t surrender without a fight. Everyone froze when a deep, rumbling punch of a single unamused laugh came from the corner. The men all poised to attack her desisted to slink back and find the source of the single flat note.

Slowly Rushe turned and flung a jelly sandwich to the table. “You’re some kind of pathetic. All of you. Have you never seen a woman in your lives?”

The men slunk back to their seats at the same time Rushe returned to whatever he’d been doing.

“Eat,” Rushe commanded.

Her? She snatched up the sandwich he’d tossed down and began to gobble. Her desire to leave the safe bedroom wouldn’t increase, so she might stay put for her next meal… or the next five.

“We need our fun,” Skeeve said. “It’s our turn with the bitch.”

“You don’t touch my stuff and you know it,” Rushe said. “Don’t want your dirty paws on her; God knows what diseases you vermin have.”

“You think she’s lily white?” Shiv exclaimed. “Bet she’s a dirty, little slut.”

“You’re not gonna find out,” Rushe said.

Having practically inhaled the food, she only had a few bites left when Rushe stormed over to yank her up out of the seat he’d not long ago dumped her in.

“Move,” Rushe said.

She lost her footing, but his grip kept her upright. By the time he got her back to the bedroom, he was practically carrying her.

He threw the door aside and flung her down on the bed. The shirt bunched at her waist in her fall; she tugged it down while trying to regain her composure. When she turned, a damp towel landed in her face.