[Forbidden book 02] Forbidden Rapture (17 page)

BOOK: [Forbidden book 02] Forbidden Rapture
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Samara couldn’t stop thinking about Makayla and what might be

happening to her.

One of the first things Samara did when she was shoved into

the room was to check the door. Not a surprise, locked. The small

window also had bars on it, sort of reminding her of the things she

heard about the Compound. But this wasn’t the Compound. She

heard someone unlock the door saw the knob turn, and Samara

held her breath, waiting to see who might walk in. Two men

entered, one dressed up in a suit, cane in hand. The other more

casually dressed, and both had cold, dark eyes. Yet there was

something familiar about the one with the cane. Something that

Samara couldn’t put her finger on.

“What did I tell you?” the one with the cane said. “Still

enticing.”

“But not what I paid for.” The other strolled into the room,

staring at Samara. The way he moved had her instantly on edge.

“She’s missing something, Esopo.”

“And I told you that you may do whatever you wish with her,

as compensation.”

The guy lunged at Samara, grabbing her arm tightly, jerking

her close. His other hand fisted into her hair, yanking her head

back. She hissed in pain. He kept hold of her by her hair, grabbed

the front of her shirt and ripped it open. This time she cried out

and began to fight him.

“I see you enjoying yourself already, so I’ll leave you to have

your fun.” The one with the cane walked out, closing and locking

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the door behind him.

Once her shirt was ripped all the way off, leaving her in her

bra and jeans, he shoved her away. Samara hit the wall hard,

crossed her arms over her breasts and watched him. He licked his

lips, eyes going up and down over her body. But it was his hands

that had her fear climbing. His hands went right to the belt around

his waist, unhooked it and pulled it quickly from the loops.

He folded it in half, slapped his hand and smiled at her. “Now

the punishment comes for you letting another fuck you.”

* * * *

“Now, how the hell you know anyone is here?” Dane asked

Blaine for about the tenth time.

They pulled up in front of a building right on the border of

town. When they were younger, in their teens, the three of them

use to visit this house. It had one time been the most popular

brothel in Treece. But once it was discovered that kidnapped

young girls ended up here, some used as prostitutes, others just

sold off, and the house got closed down. So to Dane it really

wasn’t that much of a surprise to know that someone might use

the house for their own sick pleasure.

The three of them got out of the car slowly. Dane had this

nagging feeling that something bad might already be happening.

First off he couldn’t imagine any reason for Samara to be brought

here. Yet, then again, it was the perfect place to hide someone.

Everyone in town suspected this house had been shut down, not

in use.

“You hear that?” Blaine asked.

“Sounds like yelling or crying,” Devon remarked.

“Samara!” Dane rushed past them, right into the house.

The house was dark, dusty and cobwebs everywhere. The

place had been turned upside down long ago. In the center of the

room, which had been the gathering place for men to pick which

women they wanted, Dane stopped and listened. Sure enough he

could hear crying mixed with screaming coming from upstairs. He

turned left, found the old staircase and took them two at a time.

Most of the bedrooms had no doors, and some hung on

broken hinges. But down the long hall there was one door that

was closed, and beyond that he could hear Samara crying out and

the faint sound of slapping. The kind of slapping that came with a

belt.

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He took off at a run, slamming into the door with his shoulder.

He busted through, saw a man raise his hand up with a belt in it

and Samara hunched in a corner trying to protect herself. Dane

went right towards him and body slammed him down to the

ground.

Dane wrestled the man, fighting to get the upper hand. But

thanks to his little bout with Cameron earlier he was still weak and

ended up the one on his back. The man above him raised his fist

but the blow didn’t come.

“Don’t you know three is better than one?” Devon had a hold

of the fist yanked the man off and hit him hard in the gut. He bent

over and Devon finished him with a knee kick right in the face,

knocking the guy out cold.

Dane nodded to Devon, rolled himself over to his hands and

knees and crawled to Samara.

“Samara,” he said her name softly.

Samara slowly raised her head. She had a cut over her left

eye, right along her eyebrow and her whole back was quickly

turning black and blue.

“Oh God, Dane!” She rushed into his arms, wrapping her arms

around his neck. “I thought they killed you.”

“Going to take a lot more than a hit to my head to get rid of

me,” he said, closing his eyes, holding her as tightly as he dared.

“Hey, what happened to Blaine?” Devon asked.

* * * *

Blaine stayed downstairs; he walked around, looking in each

and every room. Hairs on the back of his neck stood up, making

him feel the presence of another. In his right hand he held a gun,

cocked and ready.

A scuffle sounded behind him, Blaine swung around, aimed

and stood in shock as the one who made the sound came out of

the shadows.

“Hello, Blaine. Been a long time.”

“Owen?” Blaine frowned, not believing his eyes.

Owen Paterio had been a school buddy when Blaine got

shipped off. He also had a twisted side to him, one that Blaine had

quickly discovered. Owen liked to beat the girls he went out with.

Got off on their pain. Owen also didn’t mind ‘renting’ out his

girlfriends. After this, Blaine began to back away from him. What

got Owen kicked out of school and disappearing was the night he

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picked up one of the freshmen girls, drugged her, and held a

private auction. To Owen, girls were used and abused and you

were either with him or against.

Looking at the man now, Blaine hardly knew him. Owen

dressed in the finest silk suit money could buy. His blown hair

slicked back from cold, brown eyes. Narrow face, nice tan—no the

man that Blaine thought he knew years ago wasn’t the same one

standing before him.

“You going to shoot me?” Owen asked with a smile. “That

wouldn’t be very gentlemen like, now would it? After all, how long

has it been since we last saw each other?”

“Are you the money behind this shit?” Blaine demanded. He

didn’t lower the gun or his guard. With his memory coming full

force at him, Blaine recalled how well Owen could talk his way out

of trouble.

“You still coming to their rescue?” Owen asked. “You can’t

save them all.”

“I don’t need to save them if I stop you.”

Owen laughed, “Oh Blaine I’d forgotten how funny you can be

at times. I really have.”

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

The smile slowly left Owen’s pretty face. Pretty boy was what

they called him back in school. He also had the charm, the smiles,

and the cash to get out of trouble. But he didn’t have anything that

Blaine wanted in order to get out of this mess.

“I already have.”

Another noise had Blaine glancing over his shoulder. That

small action was all Owen needed in order to make a run for it.

And Blaine was right on his ass.

Blaine ran after him. Through the house, jumping over rubble

like broken tables and chairs, and out a back door. He got outside

just as Owen got into a car. Blaine shot his gun, hitting the sides

of the limo twice before it pulled away fast. Blaine stood alone

outside, breathing hard, watching it leave.

“You okay?” Devon huffed, clearly out of breath because of

running. “Heard shots.”

“I’m fine,” Blaine answered. “Just ran into the past.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” He turned, looking Devon in the face. “Did Dane

find Samara?”

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“Yeah, that fucker beat her.” Devon swallowed. “Heard

anything from Darius?”

Blaine shook his head. “Nothing yet. Why don’t you take that

bag of shit to the police? I think it’s time we burned this place to

the ground.”

“Blaine, you alright?”

“Just peachy,” Blaine turned back around to the direction the

limo had headed. “Fucking peachy.”

* * * *

Darius followed his personal escort up the stairs, back to the

main floor then up another set to the second. After writing the

check, waiting for them to make sure he had the money in his

account to cover it, he now headed for the girl and prayed like hell

it was without a doubt Makayla Tabor.

On the second floor they went down a darkly lit hallway to the

door at the end. The man, who led him this far brought out a key,

slipped it in the lock and opened the door. It slightly pissed Darius

off to know that not only were the girls taken, but also locked into

a room to wait their fate. It also had him wondering what kind of

condition he might find her in.

“Enjoy,” the man said, opening the door for Darius.

Darius turned his head slightly with a nod before walking

inside. The door closed, lock turned and he quickly looked around

for a way to get her out, then his eyes landed on the girl upon the

bed.

Her long black hair fanned out, falling off the bed, as well as

one arm and one leg. Apparently she had been tossed onto the

bed. Taking a few steps closer he saw that she also was scarcely

dressed. A very thin, white baby doll lingerie covered her young

body and no panties. From the way she stayed on the bed, even

when Darius touched her face, told him that she also had been

drugged.

“Makayla?” he said her name softly, kneeling down on the

side of the bed, tapping her face. “Makayla, wake up.” She

moaned. “Great,” he groaned, sighing.

Standing back up, Darius went over to the only window in the

room. He pushed the thick burgundy curtains aside. Surprisingly

there weren’t any bars on the window, yet at the same time why

would they need them since the girls seemed to all be drugged

once brought to the rooms. No threat of them trying to jump.

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Pulling out his phone, he dialed Blaine. “Hey man, I need a

distraction,” he said the second Blaine answered the phone. “I’ve

got her.” He turned and looked at the young girl passed out on the

bed. “She’s out. I think they’ve drugged her, maybe roofied her or

some shit. I’m going to have to carry her out and I don’t think

they’re going to just let me walk out the front door with her.”

“Think a raid will do it?”

Darius was speechless for a few seconds. “How the hell are

you going to get a raid?”

“I didn’t say with cops.”

“Okay, I’m just lost then.”

“You dope, I’m going to raid the place! Just be ready to leave.”

“And how the hell am I going to know?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” The phone went dread, and Darius just

stood there frowning.

“That man just keeps getting stranger and stranger.” Shaking

his head, Darius went back over to Makayla. He knelt down once

more near the bed, grabbed the sheet and covered her up. As

much as he might be attracted to her, she still was a kid. “What

are we going to do with you, little one?”

* * * *

“You need stitches,” Kera told Samara for about the tenth

time.

Samara flinched when the ice touched her back. The beating

she endured was worse than anything she ever experienced at

the hands of her father. The son of a bitch who beat her really got

off on it. When she tried to fight back he backhanded her so hard

that she almost blacked out. That hit busted open her eyebrow.

“I’m not going anywhere until Makayla is back,” Samara said,

shaking her head.

“I can’t get this bleeding to stop,” Kera sighed. “Dane, please!”

“Samara you need to have that cut stitched up,” Dane said.

“I’m not leaving!” Tears filled her eyes again. She didn’t know

if it was from the pain in her back or the pain in her chest over

what might be happening to her sister.

“I’ve got some news.” Blaine came back into the guest house.

After they got Samara out all went back to Darius’s place and

decided to wait there until they had some news. “Darius has

Makayla, but in order for him to get her out he needs a big

distraction.”

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“Is she alright?” Samara knew she sounded desperate, but

didn’t care.

“As far as he could tell yes. They have her drugged though.”

Her heart sank. “But don’t worry. He’ll keep her safe, and we’ll

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