Survival Games (6 page)

He looked up to
see Jessica stumble and catch herself. He slowed the treadmill down to a
moderate walk. He did not want to hurt her, especially after today. She
continued to walk, her eyes locked on the monitor and he flipped the switch,
turning the DVD off before heading to her room.

Her eyes glazed
with exhaustion and when he turned the treadmill off, she faltered. Like
lightning, he was at her side, catching her before she collapsed. He unclasped the
handcuffs and carried her to the bed, concerned with her pale cheeks and
shallow breathing.

“Damn it,” he
muttered to himself, closing her door and running to the kitchen. He grabbed a
bag full of water bottles and threw together a tray of fruits and vegetables
for her. He paused, grabbing a Gatorade from the refrigerator adding it to the
bag. She needed hydration and nutrients and he hoped she wouldn’t need an IV.

Returning, he set
the tray down and sat on the edge of the mattress, twisting the top of the
Gatorade off. He put it to her lips holding her, helping her drink until the
bottle was empty.

“That a girl,” he
said and covered her with the bed sheet before he headed for the door.

“Thank you,”
Jessica whispered and closed her eyes.

Ty looked at her
and shut the door. No one had ever said thank you to him, at least not here,
her words surprised and touched him. He leaned his head against the door for a
moment and went back to the control center.

He continued
editing the tapes of Jessica, including his seduction of her this morning. It
was tasteful and sexy and torturous at the same time making this one of his
best. When he was done, he played it back for Frank.

“That, my friend,
is a gold mine.” Frank nodded toward the monitor rolling bogus credits. His
eyes flicked from the dark screen to Jessica’s and he licked his lips. “She is
one hot fuck.”

Ty caught the look
on his brother’s face, the sadistic blend of wanting and violence and a shiver
played low on his spine. “She’s mine,” he said. “No one else touches her.”

Frank turned to
Ty, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly parted. “Are you telling me what
I can and cannot do?”

He inhaled and
nodded. “No one touches her.”

He popped the disc
out and put it in the holder glancing at the bank of monitors. His interest in
the family business came to a sudden end the moment his lips touched her skin
and now all he wanted was her. The rest of the captives held no substance. They
weren’t even in the same league as Jessica.

But he had to play
this smart with Frank, appeal to his sense of drama, otherwise Jessica was as
good as dead.

Frank cleared his
throat. “That’s a little extreme.”

Ty turned and in
two strides towered over his stepbrother. “Not until we have him.” He pointed
at the video case on the counter. “Otherwise, she’ll fight us every step of the
way.”

“We’ve got him.” Frank
pointed at Mike’s monitor.

“But he’s not the
one who will push her buttons.” He turned, studying the monitors wondering if
what he said was true or not. Would she bend to his every whim if she knew? He
glanced over his shoulder. “Think of the money that will roll in when she’s
willing to do multiples.”

Frank pursed his
lips. “She already did a multiple scenario.”

He was running out
of excuses. “Just let me handle this one my way and I promise, it’ll be worth
your while.” He picked up the disc. “In the meantime, I think it’s time our boy
there sees this video. That should snap him out of it.” He smiled in Frank’s
direction, waving the video he just finished. “Send Lisa in once I get everything
set up.”

Ty grabbed a chair
and walked out of the control room with the disc. He entered Mike’s room, set
up the chair and slipped the DVD into the player glancing at Mike. “I’ve got a
surprise for you,” he said crossing to where Mike was curled up. He hauled him
to his feet and dragged him to the chair. Mike didn’t resist, he continued
staring aimlessly into space.

Ty strapped his
wrists and ankles to the chair and stood looking down at him. Mike had an
uncanny resemblance to the actor Ed Harris and that had pleased their
benefactors. He shook his head and walked over to the screen pressing the play
button. He sat down next to Mike as the film began. Jessica’s face filled the
screen and Mike blinked. He was no longer staring aimlessly. He was staring
intently at the screen as the highlights of the last three days rolled before
him. It was the first reaction he had since the day they killed Mary.

The video opened
with her sprawled on the couch and Chris and Frank mauling her with their hands
and mouths and her dress soon fell in tatters on the floor.

* *
* *

Mike’s eyes never
left the screen. He didn’t notice Ty getting up or Lisa crawl in front of the
chair. He watched Jessica and his heart pounded between his legs, hard and raw
and wanting. How he wanted to be one of those men, to feel her skin under his
fingers, to taste her sweet nectar, to stick his cock in her mouth. He dreamed
of her, of doing everything these bastards were doing and more and the fire of
jealousy burned under his skin. At least it wasn’t the coward sitting next to
him.

Hands on his groin
jerked his gaze from the screen to the blonde unzipping his pants. A low groan
escaped when she slipped him in her mouth and his eyes shot back to the screen,
playing out the fantasy in his mind. It was Jessica’s mouth sucking the tip of
his cock.

Jessica
.

“Ah God,” he
whispered.

The scene on the
couch faded with her collapsed and staring with glazed eyes, the spiteful smile
plastered on her lips.

“Bastards,” Mike
breathed the word, partially lost in the feel of Lisa’s mouth.

“Wait, there’s
more.”

He shot a glare in
Ty’s direction and then returned his attention to the screen as the picture
faded up with Jessica tied to the bed.

“Ah God!” Mike
gripped the arms of the chair, his desire now swarming with envy and anger.

Ty leaned over. “Nectar
of the gods, I swear,” he whispered as the screen showed his face buried in her
pussy. “I lost count at how many times she came.”

Mike sent a
sideways glare in his direction and returned his attention to the screen,
Jessica cried “NO!” but he saw the rush of liquid gold line her pussy. He saw
Ty’s tongue dip deep within her tasting, torturing, teasing her and she
responded again and again.

His cock throbbed,
pulsing in Lisa’s mouth, dripping like Jessica dripped on screen. “Ah, God,
Jess!” He arched, trembling with the power of the release. Lisa swallowed the
torrent he shot down her throat and kept sucking, stroking him with her mouth. Mike
groaned, feeling the blood fill his vessel again, painful so soon after the
explosive orgasm. He couldn’t push her away and he couldn’t speak, he just
stared at the screen, at Jessica climaxing over and over and over again at the
hands of the bastard next to him.

“She was so wet,”
Ty said when the video showed his fingers slipping into her.

“Son of a bitch,”
Mike growled, he was hard and throbbing again. “Son of a BITCH!” Mike couldn’t
help it, he spewed his load a second time with a groan and the screen faded to
black.

“Good job, Lisa.”
Ty led her out of the room.

He returned and
smiled at Mike.

“You really are a
sick son of a bitch.”

Ty crouched in
front of Mike still smiling. “I’m wondering how good she’ll be when she finally
does beg.”

Mike struggled to
break out of the bonds. He wanted to strangle the life out of Ty.

“Did she ever beg
for you?”

A shadow passed
over Mike’s face. “I never had her, you son of a bitch.”

Ty laughed. “Poor
bastard,” he said and got up to leave. He folded the chair, ejected the DVD and
walked out.

“Let me out you
coward! I swear if I ever get my hands on you, I’m going to rip you to pieces!”

The pain of his
penetration woke her and her eyes flew wide. The dark sinister man from the
prior night slammed his hips into hers, raping her without regard. She pushed
against his chest, the cobwebs of sleep clearing as if a hurricane gale blew
them away.

“No,” she
screamed, but this time, her voice was not filled with the same hesitant
trepidation as it was earlier when Ty was doing his grand seduction, this cry
was filled with pain and terror.

She slapped his
face and he pinned her arms, riding her hard, tearing her with each sadistic
thrust. She tried to buck him off, but didn’t have the strength. Finally giving
up all fight, she turned her head and closed her eyes while he did his thing.

“C’mon bitch, you
liked it last night,” he growled and drove into her over and over and over. He
released her wrists and grabbed her neck, restricting her airway, riding her
relentlessly.

Oh my god, he’s
going to kill me!
His dark angry eyes glared as she flailed, scratching at
his hands, trying to loosen his grip, gasping for air, the slight pathway he
left not enough to sustain her. The room began to spin, her efforts weakening
as his thrusts became more violent, he arched, groaning and squeezing a
fraction tighter as he came.

His shudders
seemed distant and when he peeled his hands from her throat, a great intake of
air filled her burning lungs and she gasped between each painful cough.

He glared at her
and stood, zipping his pants. “If you breathe a word of this to him, I will
kill you.” Then he was gone.

She lay staring at
the ceiling for a long time, her breath hitching in and out of her chest, the
darkness creeping over her skin, making her feel dirty and ashamed.

The bad man
raped me.

The thought
triggered silent hot tears adding to her humiliation. Her stomach rolled and
she vaulted into the bathroom, vomiting the small amount of Gatorade in her
stomach.

I need to feel
clean.

She reached into
the shower and flipped it on, dialing it to scalding hot and stepped in.
Grabbing the soap, she scrubbed her skin until she was red and raw. No amount
of scrubbing could take away the feel of his hands squeezing the life out of
her or the dull pain resonating between her legs. The soap, once a full bar,
now just a sliver, slipped from her palm swirling down the drain. Jessica
leaned her head against the damp tile, letting the steam swirl around her for a
while before she shut the faucet off.

Stepping out of
the shower, she wrapped one of the plush towels around her and crossed to the
sink, wiping a clean swath through the mirror with her hand. She shot back a
step, blinking at the clear mirror, the steam slowly filling the space again,
but it wasn’t her that was in the reflection. It was Eric.

She grabbed a face
cloth and wiped the mirror again. Her little boy stared back at her, his wide
eyes locked on the black and blue marks surrounding her throat in the shape of
hands. His gaze shot to her eyes.

“Mom.” His eyes
filled with tears.

She reached her
hand toward him, expecting the glass to stop her progress, but when her palm
cupped his warm cheek, she gasped. He turned his face into her hand, pressing
his lips to her palm. A tingling sensation started at her wrist, traveling up
her arm and through her body, concentrating on her throat before fading.

He took her hand
and placed a small metal object in it. “I can show you what this opens, but not
right now. Hide it in a safe place,” Eric said and was gone.

Jessica stared at
the key in her hand and back up at her own reflection, the dark bruises faded
away, leaving only the memory of the nightmare. If she didn’t have the old
skeleton key in her hand, she’d seriously doubt her sanity. Twirling it in her
fingers, she glanced around the room for a place to hide it. There was a lip at
the top of the shower stall and she climbed up on the edge of the tub stretched
her hand up and placed it out of sight.

Daniel heard Eric
in the bathroom. He came around the corner as Eric said, “Hide it in a safe
place.” And he turned to leave the bathroom.

“Who you talking
to, Sport?”

Eric looked up at
his Dad and shrugged. “No one,” he answered nonchalantly.

He knew how upset
his father got when he told the truth. Daddy didn’t believe Mom was alive,
neither did his sister. They said it was in his head and the sooner he accepted
that she was gone, the better he would be. Therefore, Eric kept quiet. He knew
he needed to help his mom get out before something really bad happened. She was
special but he needed to show her the way to get out. If he could get her to
open the door, she could stop the bad man and get out.

Their therapist
LeAnn lost her husband a few years ago and said she knew how hard it was to let
go.

But she didn’t
know.

She didn’t
understand, so Eric just stopped talking about his mom altogether. He needed to
save her, not forget her.

The next morning,
Jessica stepped out of the bathroom dressed in the pretty cotton sundress and
stopped in her tracks.

He set the tray of
food down turning his head in her direction. His blue eyes caught hers before
they made a quick scan and he straightened. Hunger sparked in his eyes and he
started toward her.

Bedroom eyes.
The phrase jumped into her head again and she stepped back, feeling the wall
behind her. Flashes of his hands gliding on her body tainted by Frank’s brutal
rape snapped off in her head and she panicked. His slight laugh shattered the
silence and her eyes darted between him and any possible escape route.

He cornered her
and the phrase fight or flight ran through her mind. She stepped toward him and
threw a right hook with the power of her weight behind it. Her fist connected
with his chin and sent him back a step. Pain flared in her hand and she shook
it, darting under his arm around to the center of the room and took the stance
of a boxer waiting for her opponent to advance.

Bedroom Eyes
rubbed his chin where she hit him and stopped laughing, spinning in her
direction. Stalking toward her, he easily sidestepped her next punch, grabbing
her arm as it passed him. He yanked her toward him, grabbing the bicep of her
free arm and holding her in place with her back against his chest. She squirmed
in his grip and he wondered what the hell brought this on.

Her bare heel
slammed down on his Nike-clad foot, stinging but not enough for him to loosen
his grip. He leaned in to speak, to tell her to cool her jets, he was only
there to bring her food, but before he got the first syllable out, she slammed
her head into his nose.

“Shit!” He let go
of one of her arms and when she swung away, he yanked her back. She rammed her
elbow in his chest using inertia to her advantage.

* *
* *

That was enough.
Ty was no longer amused and he picked her up by her arms and threw her toward
the bed. She landed on the mattress, rolled and was up on her feet seconds
later.

He started toward
her again, she charged full into his stomach like a linebacker, knocking him to
the floor, and he grabbed her, bringing her down with him and rolling, pinning
her to the hard concrete with his body. Her hair fanned out under her as she
struggled and he was able to get a hold of her arms, pinning each one by her
head and holding her there until she stopped struggling.

“Are you
finished?”

“No,” she growled
and tried to bite him.

He grabbed both
her wrists in one hand, kneeled on her thighs, pushing them open with sheer
force.

“Are you finished?”
he growled down at her.

She spit at him.

He wiped the spit
from his face, glaring at her. “You have entirely too much energy today.”

“You’re hurting
me,” Jessica said.

“That’s the
point.” He moved his hand under her dress and pinched her nipple.

“Get off me,”
Jessica said.

He leaned down,
biting her other breast through the dress, still glancing sideways at her. She
winced and renewed her efforts.

“I just came in to
bring you food,” he explained, his hand trailing down between her legs, his
stroke soft and sensual.

Jessica stopped
struggling. “Then stop,” she finally said.

Being this close
to her, even with her struggling and fighting was as intoxicating to him as a
gram of heroin is to an addict. He couldn’t stop; even with the silent plea in
her eyes, even if he was presented with the choice of stop or die, he couldn’t
stop. His hand continued gently probing, massaging, teasing and she didn’t look
away.

“Stop,” she
commanded softly.

He stopped but
remained on top of her, pushing her legs wider and settling between them, his
jeans tight and constraining against his hard member. He studied her face, the
flush in her cheeks, her wonderfully dark eyes and he hesitated, tracing the
outline of her jaw with the fingers of his free hand.
God you are beautiful.
The thought never voiced, only a deep sigh passed his lips and he went to
kiss her but she turned her head away.

Sudden
overwhelming anger engulfed him. Anger at his stupidity, anger for her
insolence and anger because more than anything, he wanted this woman to admit
she felt the same heat, the same wanting, the same need throbbing in his veins.

 He grabbed a
handful of her hair and pulled her head back. She cried out and he took the
opportunity, covering her mouth with a powerful unwanted kiss. Her teeth
clamped down on the soft tissue of his tongue and he yelped, yanking away. A
hot coppery taste filled his mouth and he swiped his finger on his tongue only
to find red tinged saliva. She had bit hard enough to draw blood. He narrowed
his eyes.

“Goddamnit! I just
came in here to bring you something to eat.”

She looked up at
him defiantly. “Then get off me.”

“You’re the one
who started this,” he said looking down at her.

“You cornered me,”
she shot back.

Ty closed his eyes
for a moment. She was right. He did corner her. Inhaling, he opened his eyes. “Maybe,”
he said, conceding with a half grin, letting the simmering anger cool.

“Let me go,” she
said.

“I’m not sure I
can do that now,” he said and the smile disappeared, he released the handful of
hair and put his hand on her cheek, running his thumb over her lips. “And I
don’t think you really want me to.”

“Please don’t.”

He shrugged an
apology. “Sorry, babe.”
But being this close to you, I couldn’t stop if I
tried.
The silent admission troubled him and he studied her face, moving
his hips gently, circling, teasing, grinding, throbbing against the fabric of
his jeans.

“Jessie, what am I
going to do with you?” He scanned her face, the flush in her cheeks, the
alternating heat and plea in her eyes. Gaining control, he laid his forehead on
the concrete next to her, closing his eyes.

“Goddamnit,” he
whispered tasting his own blood. He lay on top of her until his heart rate
slowed to a normal pace.

“Damn it,” he said
and rolled his head so he could see her face. She was looking away from him but
he could still see the curve of her neck and the smooth skin of her cheek and
for a second, he understood completely why Mike was so in love with her.

This cannot
happen
.

It just can’t
.

He shot to his
feet and left the room.

* *
* *

Jessica rolled,
getting to her hands and knees and glanced at the tray. A bountiful breakfast
of fruit decorated the plate and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice sat
next to it. Her head dropped and she blinked back tears blurring her vision.

Damn him!

The way he looked
at her was different, like she was no longer a possession, and God help her,
when he said her name, it melted her to the core and that worried her. Worried
her a great deal, but the fact he stopped gave her a sliver of hope.

She needed to work
this, to milk it for all it was worth and maybe, just maybe, she could walk out
of here alive. Maybe
Bedroom Eyes
was her ticket out of this hellhole.

She crawled into
the bathroom and instead of a shower; she filled the tub and slid into the hot
water, leaning her head back against the ceramic lip. A quick glance toward the
hiding spot of the key and she closed her eyes, mulling over how she could manipulate
him into helping her.

He stopped and he
didn’t ask her to beg. Both significant if the videos he played for her were a
real representation of his attitude. Today he didn’t follow that path; today he
softened and tried to kiss her.

Her brow creased.

In none of the
sultry film scenes did he give any indication of warmth. Passion and sexual
prowess, oh yeah, but warmth and depth, no, no sign of that in the videos he
took part in. She sighed, opening her eyes, reaching for the soap and froze.

He stood in the
doorway, his arms crossed; his head held low, glaring through those long dark
lashes. His biceps straining in the gray t-shirt he wore.

If she didn’t
think he was dangerous before, she sure did now. She shrunk back in the tub,
curling her legs. Her heart jumped in her chest and sweat broke out under her damp
hair, tickling her scalp.

“Get out,” he
commanded.

“I’m not ready
to,” she challenged, ignoring the metal taste of fear in her mouth.

His hands curled
into fists. “Get out,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t think
so,” Jessica said and braced herself against the back of the tub.

In one stride, he
was next to the tub and knelt down, grabbing a handful of her hair.

Suddenly, her head
was under water and she flailed, her hands slipped off the smooth lip of the
tub and she reached for the hand holding her under, panic filling her and her
lungs burned for air. Just as suddenly, she was yanked back out of the depths
of the tub. Water spewed from her lips with the power of her cough.

“Get out,” he said
letting go of her hair and standing.

Jessica met his
crazed glare and decided the most prudent route would be to do as he said. She
reached for a towel and he stopped her.

“Just like you are.”
He pointed toward the room.

She crossed her
arms over her breasts and walked into the main room dripping wet.

He followed her.

“Sit down and
eat.”

Jessica obeyed,
kneeling down and eating, shivering from the cold concrete under her knees. She
refused to look at him. His agitation scared her; he was just as pissed off
with himself as she had been with herself yesterday. She stopped mid-bite at
that thought, hesitated and then continued. She finished the food and drank the
juice.

He reached down to
grab the tray.

“Thank you,” she
whispered.

He hesitated but
wouldn’t look at her either. He scooped up the tray and left the room.