Collateral Damage (21 page)

A
pop
and then the vial was tipped over my mouth. I lurched forward as much as I could, sure that if it spilled Cyrus would assume I'd done it on purpose and rescind his offer to leave me in the cage.

Syrup, with the consistency of honey and a medicinal cherry flavor, coated my tongue. I swallowed, sucking on my tongue to remove the taste. "Can I have some water before—?"

Darryl shook his head and brought the gag to my mouth. "Open wide."

I let him put the gag back in. Decided it was better this way. Bad enough that I'd asked Darryl for water. Who knew what I'd be begging for before the night was over.

Cyrus didn't have me in here for nothing.

"All right, let's get her out of reach." Darryl latched on to the bottom of the cage as Eddie worked the crank. The cage swayed a little as it went up. He made a cutting motion once the cage was about four feet off the table. "That should do it."

Both men hopped off the table. I stared at them as they picked it up and carried it to the other side of the backyard. Eddie wandered into the crowd.

Darryl returned alone. "How you feeling, hot stuff?"

I scowled at him.

He cocked his head. Abruptly my veins caught fire. I bit into the ball in my mouth, but a muffled grunt escaped. Sweat broke out on my flesh. Moisture gathered between my folds. My core clenched as I reached the painful edge of a climax.

And stayed there.

"I think it's working." Darryl laughed and moved to stand right under the cage. "I may be tall enough . . . ." He stretched his arm up, and his fingertips poked through the bars, almost close enough to touch my clit. "If you dip your hips forward, I might be able to help you a little."

Gnawing at the ball, I lifted my hips as much as I could. Out of reach.
I'd sooner
soak in acid than let him touch me.

"Gonna feel pretty much the same." He shrugged when I didn't move. "Suit yourself. I'll be around if you change your mind."

Just a few steps away from the cage, he grabbed a waitress and then bent her over a chair. He kept his eyes on me while he unzipped his pants. While he freed his dick. And while he penetrated her so very slowly I could almost feel the length of him sliding into me.

My insides shuddered, and sweat spilled into my eyes, mingling with tears, stinging a little more every time I blinked. The hot spill seeping from me ran down the crack of my ass. Arousal flowed from every pore, baking me alive.

One orgasm. Just one. I'd be okay if I could have one.

You don't know that.

But I convinced myself it was true. Without that hope, I'd go completely, fucking insane.

A tall man with shaggy, brown hair, wearing black pants and a beaming, untucked, white shirt strolled by, singing softly in tune to the riotous music.

I rattled my chains and let out a barely audible scream.
Stop that!
Pride bristled. I ignored it and threw my weight so the cage swayed.

He slowed, looked around as though confused, then glanced up and over at me.

Then he smiled. "Aren't you a lovely decoration?"

I gasped as another heat wave, this one topped off with lust, crashed into me. I couldn't tell him what I wanted. What I needed. Unless . . . .

Touch me!

Circling the cage, he shook his head. "I don't see how . . . unless I can get you down?"

Yes!
My hips bucked. Right then, him lowering me and taking me sounded perfect. I nodded so he'd understand that I wanted him to do just that.

As he approached, a sharp command rose above the noise of the crowd.

"Do whatever you want to her, Patrick. With her in the cage. She opted out of the party. It's too late for her to change her mind."

You bastard!
I glared at Cyrus as he came into view. He saluted me with his long-stemmed glass and took a seat close to where Darryl was still fucking the waitress.

Probably to enjoy the show.

"Hmm." Patrick paced around the cage. "Hell, just look at that juicy cunt. Such a shame that I can't taste it. Can I use a chair, Cyrus?"

"Nope," Cyrus said.

"Well, fuck." Lips twisted in thought, Patrick positioned himself under the cage and peered up at me. He extended his arm. His fingers brushed my butt cheek. "You'll have to press down, honey."

So far gone with need I couldn't care less how pathetic I seemed, I shifted my hips forward so my pussy touched the bottom of the cage.

A single digit slid into me, and I groaned. The ring of muscle at my entrance contracted as though trying to suck it in.
Almost, almost . . . .

Patrick withdrew his finger and stuck it in his mouth. "Oh, that's good."

My climax faded to the razor's edge. I slammed my head back into the bars.

"Hey, Chris!" Patrick called out. "Come here!"

Another man clambered over, bringing a few of his friends.

"What's doing, Pat?" A short, fat man asked.

Pointing at me, Patrick quickly explained the situation and the rules of the game.

Lacy slinked up behind Cyrus and draped her arms over his shoulders. Her red lips curved in a vicious smile. "Patrick's one of the tallest guys here. If he can't reach her, you guys will have to get creative."

"What if I sit on your shoulders?" Chris asked Patrick.

"Like I'm holding your fat ass up so you can enjoy her."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Find something we can stick in her. Then we can all get a taste."

Humiliation ate at me as the men gathered things they could use. Bottles, vegetables—one even brought back a broom. And worst of all, I didn't really care what they used. My heart hammered hard and fast enough to shattered my ribs. My veins shriveled like worms under the summer sun. My core grew hot enough to incinerate me.

Anything
would do
.

They finally agree on a champagne bottle. Patrick drained it, licked his lips, and cleaned the rim with his sleeve. Then he rose on his tiptoes to push the bottle up inside me as far as it would go.

Cold glass filled me, and I burst around it. Forced myself to hold still, afraid to break the bottle. Trembled as I let my head fall forward and drank in the momentary relief.

Which didn't last long. As the bottle left me with a wet
slurp,
the heat rose again.

The men passed the bottle around, lapping up the glossy coating as they leered at me. My quiet moans made them laugh. They knew I wanted it back.

"That's enough, Cyrus."

Vince.
He would stop this. He would help me.

But I couldn't see him.

Someone cut the music. The crowd parted as a horde of guards in black cloaks made their way towards us. Naked, Vince stepped away from the guards.

His neck strained against his steel collar as he was forced to his knees. "I doubt you care anymore that you gave her to me, but what about them?"

Cyrus' brow creased. He met my eyes for a split second before he pushed Lacy away and went to stand in front of Vince. "Them? You mean all these lusty people who can't wait to get their hands on her? They're going to get exactly what they want!"

Drunken cheers sprang out from the crowd. The men under my cage grinned at one another and began discussing exactly where they would take me.

Patrick frowned and grabbed Chris' shoulder. "As soon as she's down, they're all going to pounce. How the fuck are we going to play with her then?"

"Cyrus, me and the guys will pay you for her," Chris said.

The cheers turned to grumbles. More offers were made.

"There are other women." Cyrus laughed and pointed at the woman Darryl had finally finished with. "I've provided plenty for you all—"

"None of them are Nicole," Vince said, calmly. "They've seen her in the arena, experienced the beauty of her submission. The way pain and pleasure meld and cause her to melt before their eyes . . . anything you offer now will be crude in comparison.

What I offer, for one and all to see, is art in blood and flesh. I'd planned to give her a taste of the whip, to slick fire over her flesh, to—"

"Who says I will ever let you touch her again?" Cyrus' tone dropped until it was almost a growl. "You wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know in exchange for her. Have you changed your mind?"

Vince tipped his head back and seemed to mutter a prayer to the star-speckled sky. "My answer remains the same. I have nothing to tell."

Cyrus punched him in the jaw, knocking him into the dirt. "Bullshit."

"Believe what you want." Vince spat out a mouthful of blood, rolled onto his side, and tried to rise to his knees without his hands. Which, by the way he'd fallen, were likely bound behind him. "The point is, she now belongs to them. Shouldn't they have a say?"

"Clever, Vincent, I'll give you that. You don't love her enough to spare her, but you're still trying to save her. Almost fucking noble." He snatched a kerchief from his suit pocket and cleaned Vince's blood from his knuckles. "Fine. I'll keep her for the arena. And you. If you live through the night."

My blood had cooled during their exchange. Not enough to completely take away the feeling of being burned alive by mindless desire, but that feeling belonged to someone else. To the body I no longer inhabited. Vince's presence, his voice, removed me from there. I'd taken wing again, but not to escape. Somehow, I drifted closer and closer to Vince and his aura surrounded me. Shielded me.

I tried to shake off the sensation. Chains rattled as my body trembled, but that was far away. My restraints were of Vince's making. Ethereal, yet more solid than any that had held me before.

As he was yanked to his feet by the guards, he looked at me and mouthed,
I'll be
okay.

And it was then I knew he wouldn't be.

A large, wooden frame was erected in the center of the backyard. Darryl and Eddie inspected it thoroughly, tugging at the joints, leaning their weight on the thick posts before waving the guards who held Vince over. They shackled Vince to the frame, suspending him in the center. His arms and legs, spread wide, formed an X. The chains attached to his metal collar were wrapped around the posts at either side.

Soon blood seeped around the metal bands on his wrists and ankles. As dark droplets hit the earth, something shriveled inside me. From my first day here, I'd relied on Vince's strength. At times I'd hated him for it, because it meant he was one of
them.

No matter what he did, no matter how kind he was, he believed what they did, and he was wrong. He was the enemy.

Yet, at the same time, he'd been an ally. My lover. My only way out of this hell. If only I could make him understand . . . .

At some point, I'd gotten through to him. I couldn't say when exactly. Had it happened all at once or had my reasoning slowly eaten away at his?

Either way, I'd gotten exactly what I wanted. He'd turned on Cyrus.

But what good did that do? Neither of us was any better off. We were both in chains, and there was no way out. None that I could see.

"Look at her." Cyrus stepped up to Vince and put a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at me. "She's lost faith in you. You've lost the power to protect her.

You're weak. Do you think she still wants you?"

My throat tightened as I stared at Vince. Weak. Yes. He was weak. And I'd made him that way.

Is that what you really think? Look at him. Is that weakness?
The voice of logic, the one that always mocked me, spoke softly, reaching beyond the doubt and fear.
It latched on to the part of me that hovered close to Vince. The part that returned to him no matter what was done to me. Because my trust in him couldn't be shaken. Because he'd proven himself to me, and nothing could change that. Blind or caged or whatever, if he was nearby, I'd be fine. The power hadn't been taken from him, he'd handed it over. Why? I had no idea. But there was a purpose behind that too. And a strength that demanded respect.

Cyrus made a sound of disgust and dropped his hand. Obviously, I hadn't proved his point. He motioned to Darryl. "Bring me the whip."

Vince's eyes stayed locked on mine. He inclined his head and his lips formed the words
That's my girl
.

The whip snapped in the air. Cyrus positioned himself behind Vince. "Let me know when you're ready to talk."

A bloody spray followed the first strike and sprinkled Cyrus' hands and face.

Vince's body jerked, but his expression never changed. The long, leather tail came down on him again and again, and still he watched me. As though concerned by my reaction.

Even though I did my best not to have one. Even though I fought to keep my expression as neutral as his.

It helped that I couldn't see his back. But as Cyrus' face became a crimson mask the muscles in my jaw locked. The saliva filling my mouth from the gag almost choked me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop them. All at once, I was grateful for the gag. It forced the screams to the back of my throat. Vince couldn't hear them. And they would only make this worse.

Cyrus threw down the whip and snarled. "What did you do to lead them to me?

My men have found nothing!"

"There's a reason for that." Vince turned his head to face Cyrus, and blood trickled from the collar, forming rivulets down his chest. "There's nothing to find."

"There's nothing?" Cyrus wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve, his features shifting all at once from rage to amusement. "Well, then, I guess I'm doing this for nothing. But so long as we're all having such fun . . . ." He spun around and crooked his finger at Lacy. "Bring the iron, my dear."

Lacy stared at him. "But—"

"You
don't
want to finish that sentence. He's not losing his dick. You've got nothing to worry about." Cyrus unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up to his elbows. "Darryl, take half the guards back to Asheville. Question the resident rogues—

there aren't many, and they're all fucking cowards. They'll cooperate. Make it very clear none of them will be safe if hunters start sniffing around."