Tortured Soul (10 page)

We drove around the outskirts of town and kept to the suburbs, eventually pulling into the familiar area of my childhood. This was where I had lived with B and Grandma before I left Claymont, before my life went to hell in a hand basket. For a fleeting second, I thought we were going to my old home, until Dillon passed the street that led to it. Instead, we entered an obvious affluent suburb. If the pricey cars parked in wide driveways didn’t give it away, the sprawling homes on larger than normal tracts of land did. The car moved with a gentle bump off the street, through a large iron gate that opened as we approached it. We continued driving down a long driveway that led to a circular finish in front of an impressive single story home. Wide steps led the way to an impressive double oak door. The home looked luxurious and modern, but elegantly beautiful. We all climbed from the car, and Shakhta scooped me up once again into his muscular arms. As he climbed the three stairs up the wide stoop, I pretended that this was my new home I was coming home to, rather than a temporary place. I allowed myself a moment to visualize Shakhta as my master, and that he wanted to keep me. So far he had been a kind master, gentle and understanding. He made me feel safe. I tried to imagine a life where I was always cared for. It had been so long since I felt protected. With the nervous energy surrounding us, I was ushered into the home. No words were spoken as each person seemed to disappear into the recesses of the house. Shakhta carried me through to the living area and deposited me with care onto an expensive looking white couch. I immediately stood back up, fearing my grubby clothes might tarnish such exquisite furniture.

“What are you doing, Malen’kaya?”

“Shakhta, I don’t want to get your couch dirty.”

The grin that so rarely graced his face broke free, and he took a few short steps towards me. He placed his large hands on my shoulders and gently pressed down in a silent plea to sit, so I did.

“Eli has already spilled soda, chocolate and some sort of green slime on this sofa. A little dirt isn’t going to make any difference at this stage. Welcome to my home.”

I wondered who Eli was but didn’t bother to ask. I was emotionally drained and just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. Even though I slept on the jet, I still felt listless and flat. As my gaze floated over Shakhta’s home, I couldn’t help but shudder. There had been a moment of wonder and awe when I had first entered Master Jonas’ home, too. It had turned out to be hell on earth.

Dillon had Bomber sitting at the long dining table, his pants dropped around his ankles. He wore boxers that covered his nudity, but I averted my eyes regardless. It wasn’t that nudity bothered me, I just didn’t want anyone to get the impression that I was interested in them in that way. I had learned early on with Jonas that curious glances could bring unwanted attention.

“You should live. Doesn’t even need stitches,” Dillon confirmed.

Bomber grunted as he pulled his pants back on.

Dillon continued, “Down that hall you’ll find two spare rooms, take one and get yourself cleaned up.”

Bomber disappeared as Gabbie slid silently through the back glass doors that overlooked a large pool surrounded with outdoor furniture. There was a small guest house in the very back of the property. Beyond the fence that bordered the property was nothing but thick sprawling firs that were a common sight for Claymont. The town was surrounded by mountains, which at this time of year were capped in snow. Unspoiled forest reserves, which began at the base, climbed steadily higher into the beautiful summits. Claymont was truly a picturesque town; it was comfortable with old-world charm, but was busy enough due to the renowned college on its outskirts. As I looked over the stunning countryside lit by moonlight, I found myself questioning once again why I ever left.

I regarded the unfamiliar room around me. It was an open plan with a large modern kitchen, dining room and living area. The walls were white, the floor coverings white, the furniture either white, black or chrome. Some people may have found it a little stark and impersonal, but I found it peaceful. Black and white photos of landscapes covered some of the walls, and even though I found myself drawn to the quiet yet expressive images, I couldn’t bring myself to move in for a closer look. Not until Shakhta entered the room from the wide open hall in front of me. Obedience reigned where my master was concerned. I stood, pressing my tired shoulders back, my head slightly lowered submissively, and my gaze rested on his. He held out his hand, and I gingerly walked forward to take it.

“I’ll show you your room. You can clean up and get some rest.” I began to follow him down the long hallway. “Are your feet alright, do you want me to carry you?”

“I’m fine, Shakhta,” I whispered.

“That’s Dillon’s room.” Shakhta nodded in the direction of a closed door to my right. “And over there is the study.” He nodded to another closed door on the opposite side of the hallway. “Bathroom.” He nodded to our left again as we passed a different closed door. “My room.” This time he pointed out an open door on our right.

I got a glimpse of a large king size bed with soft black comforter and pillows. An enormous framed black and white picture of a forest scene sat on the wall above the bed. The thick trunks of the trees took up most of the frame. A gentle fog hung in the air, giving the picture an ominous impression. To me it looked peaceful and quiet.

“You can use this room.” Shakhta signaled to a room behind us, and I stepped cautiously toward it.

He pushed open the door and led me through. There was a queen size bed adorned with a red comforter, and red and black matching pillows. Two small art deco lights sat on the wall above the bed and there was a small table on either side. A large set of dresser drawers that matched the bedside tables was propped against the wall in front of the bed and to my right was a closed door which I assumed hid the closet. On the other side of the room were sheer curtains that stood as a barrier between the room and a sliding glass door, which led to the back patio.

Shakhta must have noticed my gaze. “I don’t want you going outside, Em. Keep the curtains drawn.” He moved over to the windows and pulled a second heavier curtain across the view. “I’ll go get you a clean shirt to wear for tonight. I believe Rebecca has been busy shopping for you, so when you go home tomorrow you can finally wear something of your own.”

His words took a moment to register. “Home?”

When Shakhta looked up, his gaze was hard and even, a stark difference from the concerned looks he had spared me thus far. It frightened me a little to see him look at me that way.

“Home, Em, your house. Actually it’s yours and Rebecca’s. Charlie lives there, too. They’ve been busy renovating it; you probably won’t recognize it—”

“You’re giving me away, Shakhta?” I whispered, my lip trembling.

Shakhta ran his hand through his hair with agitation. “Not getting rid of you, Em, just taking you home, where you belong.” Before I had a chance to panic he moved forward, pressing his hands to my cheeks. “Rebecca will flay me alive if I don’t take you to the house tomorrow. Let’s just take it slowly okay? You can see the house, your room, and then decide where you will feel more comfortable.”

I nodded, though a part of me was still reeling at the thought of Shakhta discarding me. When he headed toward the bedroom door, I called out in panic, “Shakhta?

While I looked forward to having some time to myself, I was still nervous about him leaving. Talk about screwed up; my body and heart were at complete and utter war with each other. He turned back to face me. “W...where will you be?”

Shakhta sauntered back to me, looking concerned once again. There was no sign of the hard cold stare he had given me moments before. “I’m going to make sure the team is settled in, then we are going to have a quick meeting in the study. I won’t be leaving the premises, and if you need me for anything come find me. Try and get some rest though, it’s after midnight.”

“Yes, Shakhta,” I whispered.

He was standing so close we were almost touching. He looked down at me with those dark eyes, regarding me with lustful interest. I could see the war raging behind those eyes, the need that he was trying so desperately to reject. He squeezed his eyes closed, and when they opened the desire and want in his gaze was palpable.

“I’m such a bastard,” he murmured right before his lips crushed against mine.

Caught completely off guard, it took me a moment to respond. And when I did, it shocked me. I had never opened my mouth for a kiss, instead retaining that one piece of defiance during my entire time with Jonas. Jonas cared little; he didn’t even kiss me the first time he had taken me. He never once pressed his lips to mine. Neither did he care if others did. As soon as Shakhta’s lips touched mine though, I immediately allowed his tongue to caress mine. This was my first real kiss and it was hard, dominant, warm and passionate. It made my heart explode with emotions that I had never experienced before. Shakhta’s hands held my face, controlling the kiss, moving my head to the exact place he wanted it. My heart slammed hard in my chest and my hands grabbed hold of his bulging biceps hoping they would hold my suddenly weak legs. While my body responded appropriately to his kiss, a whimper of fear escaped me, causing Shakhta to abruptly pull away.

The anger that radiated from him made my eyes widen slightly, but I didn’t shrink away. In the past such an action only led to pain. Without warning, he pulled his hands away and stormed out of the room. I was left standing in a confused daze as my fingers lightly traced the warmth that tingled on my lips. I immediately felt bereft and alone. My body moved towards the door automatically, ready to seek him out. I forced myself still though and just stood there, breathing hard, regaining my senses. I was quickly reminded of the fatigue which sat heavy on my shoulders and was finally tempted by the comfort of the bed behind me. I pulled off my clothes, and at the last minute remembered the letter tucked safely inside a Zip-Lock bag in the pocket. I pulled it out and climbed under the soft sheets. Carefully, I unfolded the note, and Shakhta’s neat handwriting lay before me.

“My name is Emily Maree Donovan and I am not a possession, I am a person. I am not a toy to be played with, I am a living soul. I do not need a master because I have the strength to be my own master. I am to be treasured, loved and protected, and I will accept no less. I survived my captivity and I will continue to fight and survive until my life is my own once more.”

I wanted to believe these words, I wanted to own them. They scared me though. They represented uncertainty, and they came with the possibility of heartache. I folded the note and tucked it under my pillow. With the knowledge that Shakhta was close by to keep me safe, I feel into a deep and restful sleep.

BRAIDEN

I sat behind my large mahogany desk, and typed an email to my stepfather. I was brooding and pissed off over the way I had manhandled Emily. I had touched her—hell, I had more than touched her—I had mauled her. And it had frightened her. I was tempted to find Larz or Bomber and ask them to kick the shit out of me for being such a spineless, arrogant bastard. Instead I ended up here, at my computer thanking Alexander for the private jet and doing the unthinkable—asking him for another favor. The scales were going to tip back in his favor. I needed to find Jonas Levier and I knew Alexander had the ability to help me.

Dillon entered the room and sat down in front of me. He stretched his long legs out and laced his hands behind his head like he didn’t have a care in the world. We already had a meeting with whole team earlier. I explained that I would possibly be leaving as soon as tomorrow...today... I needed to take Jonas out. While he was living and breathing, he would always be a threat to Emily. Bomber and Gabbie would come with me, and Larz would stay here to watch over Em.

Dillon sat quietly and watched me with far too much speculation in his eyes. I sent my email and put the computer into hibernation mode, then rested back in my comfortable leather chair. For a moment I reveled in the peace that coming home gave me, such an occasional feeling that I relished. I had traveled the world, had stood on every continent to be honest. And all of those travels had led me here. This is where I felt comfortable. There was tranquil stillness here in Claymont that I hadn’t managed to find anywhere else. My life had taken a deadly and unusual path, but led me here. I was happy with here, but my moment of contentment didn’t last long. The image of the damaged girl two doors down filled my mind.

I raised my brows in silent invitation, urging Dillon to get whatever it was on his mind out in the open.

“What’s going on with you and Emily?”

Never one to beat around the bush, his question didn’t surprise me. Can’t say it didn’t piss me off, but nevertheless, we were business partners and family. He had a right to ask, more so than anyone else.

“I’ve spent two months searching for her. I found her, literally carried her out of captivity, and have spent the last three days keeping her alive while trying to keep her sane. To say I am invested in this case is a reasonable expectation.”

It was Dillon’s turn to raise a brow. “You were invested long before Emily was taken from Claymont. The girl had you twisted in knots before you had even met her.”

I shrugged, I couldn’t argue because it was the truth. Her story, her picture, it had touched a place inside of me that triggered a switch. Protectiveness had reared its head and there was no way I could switch it off.

“She doesn’t need a new master or a lover, Braiden, she needs help.”

My raised brow lowered into a pissed off scowl. I was irritated that he had judged me as a prick who would take advantage of Emily. I was even more pissed off that he was right. I had slipped up with Emily, and as much as I wanted her, I wanted to protect her more, even if it was from myself.

“You think I would hurt her like that?” I growled.

Dillon shook his head. “No, not intentionally, but your emotions are all over the place. I see the way you look at her. It’s with possessiveness and something else, maybe misplaced affection?”

“There is nothing misplaced about the affection I feel for Emily. Yes, I care for her more than I should and I can’t help that. But I sure as hell can control what I do about it. I won’t be jumping into bed with her the first chance I get.”

I cringed at the memory of kissing her. If she had wrapped her legs around my waist and pressed her heated core to my groin, would I have been able to stop? I tried to think I would have, but something told me all sensibility went out the door where Emily was concerned. I needed to get her home, back to Rebecca, and then I needed to get the fuck away from her. I didn’t trust myself being so close. Hunting Jonas was just the distraction I needed.

“The possessiveness comes with the territory, Dillon. You and Dave both agreed that it was possible I might need to assume a roll of dominance with Emily to help transition her from captivity to freedom. To play that roll takes something that you most likely won’t understand, but it needed to be done. With that control comes with proprietary. I’m not dead, I can’t help those emotions.”

Dillon sighed and rubbed a hand over his buzz cut hair. “I know, I know,” Dillon said, his hands raised in surrender. “I just don’t want her to get hurt,” he looked up at me, “or you.”

“Did you grow a pussy while I was away?” I asked with a frown.

Dillon laughed. “It seems I did.”

A smile broke free on my lips. “Okay, at least you admitted it.” I sighed. “She needs to see Dave. She is definitely showing signs of PTSD, nightmares, possibly flashbacks. She has a strong armor, but underneath it she is terrified of pretty much everything.” Dillon nodded in agreement. “She is going to be pissed off with me when I leave, but I have to go. She isn’t safe until Jonas Levier is six feet under. I hope Rebecca realizes what she is in for.”

“I don’t think any of us are really sure what we are in for with Emily.”

I sighed. “She is going to need help, Dillon, more than what we can probably offer her.”

“We’ll take care of it and she will be protected at all times. You concentrate on Jonas. The sooner you deal with him the sooner Emily can begin to heal.”

I nodded and stood from behind the desk. I was exhausted, I’m pretty sure I had sand in places sand has no business being, and the fine layer of salt from my ocean swim had left my skin dry and itchy.

“I’m going to take a shower and get a few hours of sleep. Larz and I will take Emily home first thing in the morning. I’ve contacted Alexander asking for his assistance...” I glanced at Dillon waiting for his reaction. Nothing. If he was surprised, he hid it well behind a mask of indifference. “He’s going to ask around and try to get a location on Levier. I could do it on my own, but things will progress much faster with his help.”

“You’ll owe him,” Dillon said matter-of-factly.

“Yep, but she’s worth it.” Dillon grunted. “Speaking of women, how’s Annie—” Dillon shot me a ‘don’t go there’ glare, as if that would deter me. “You get your act together and ask her out yet?”

“Guess I had that coming after my little Emily tirade, huh?” asked Dillon, and I nodded. “Well,” Dillon stood up and stretched, “hope the suspense doesn’t kill you, ‘cause I have no intention of sharing my love life with you.” He was out the door promptly following that. I got what I wanted though, my cousin out of my hair. It was just too easy.

***

I was awake, showered and dressed half an hour after the sun had risen. Stopping by Emily’s door, I pressed my ear against it and listened. Silence, so I assumed she was still asleep and left her alone to grab some breakfast. I would deliver Emily to her sister today, and by nightfall I would be on a jet with my team. The thought of leaving Emily behind sent a bolt of fear right to my gut. I knew Larz would give his life to protect her; it was the only reason I was able to pry myself away. My mood had soured at the thought of leaving Em. She was not going to take it well. I wanted nothing more than to stay with her and help her overcome the damage instilled by the monster Levier, but the need to make her life safe was overpowering. The need to fuck her was just as overpowering, so I needed to distance myself from Emily Donovan. The sun was high in the sky and Em still hadn’t made an appearance. We needed to get moving. I tapped gently on her door before entering.

“Em?” I called out as I walked into the room. Any further words were stuck in my throat. A gloriously naked Emily was sitting in her submissive resting pose on the floor by her bed. I couldn’t help looking over her feminine figure. She was beautiful, even with the scars that laced her skin. My hands trembled with the need to touch her. I squeezed my eyes shut and locked the desire down deep.

“Em, please stand up.”

She stood with her eyes still downcast. I willed myself to keep my eyes above her chest. I moved forward and placed a finger under her chin to lift her gaze to mine. Being able to see one’s eyes and facial expressions was my key to reading people. Women especially wore their emotions in their eyes and on their faces. Emily was good at hiding hers, but I could see through her façade. Right now, Emily’s eyes held confusion.

“Get dressed, Malen’kaya. Put on the shirt I left for you last night and the shorts from yesterday.” I stood back and waited while she quickly dressed. Obedience was not a problem for Emily; it was one of the most significant marks Jonas had left on her. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” She shook her head. “Follow me.”

Before she left the room, she quickly ran back to the bed and slipped a piece of paper out from under her pillow. I recognized it immediately as the new mantra I had written for her. It warmed my heart to know she still had it. One day soon, I hoped the words would be repeated with conviction, and eventually, the need to keep it gone.

In the kitchen, Larz handed me a plate of toast. “Sit,” I commanded, and she went to kneel. “On the chair, Em,” I gently corrected.

I was trying hard not to come across as abrupt, but my dark mood was making it difficult. Once I fed her the slice of toast, I led her and Larz to the garage. My Corvette sat sorrowfully still and quiet. Dillon had driven it every now and again to keep the motor in top condition, but I doubt he really pressed the pedal and let her purr like I knew she could. Dillon drove a fully restored 1969 Chevrolet that packed one hell of a V8 under the hood. I knew he wasn’t afraid of a little speed. What did bother him was the exuberant price tag attached to the hood. I moved across the garage and opened the back passenger door of the much more conventional SUV. Emily slid in and I closed the door behind her. Once settled in the driver’s seat, I noticed Larz’s wistful stare at the Corvette.

“You ever driven one before?”

“When exactly would an ex-navy SEAL be seen in something like that?” He chuckled.

“Next week. Dillon will give you the keys. She needs to be run often to keep the oil and fuel from going bad.”

Larz grinned. “You trusting me with your pride and joy?”

“I’m trusting you with her,” I nodded towards Emily, “and she’s more important,” I murmured. Larz’s face became serious. “Just make sure Dillon is with her when you take it for a spin. Don’t leave her alone, not even for a minute.”

“I should be offended by that, but I know you’re a little worried right now which has clearly affected your brain. I will protect her as if she’s my own.”

I didn’t like that Larz had referred to Emily as his, not one little bit. I almost growled out loud like an angered beast. I gripped the steering wheel tightly as we moved through the tall gates that separated my property from the street beyond. I glanced in the rearview mirror. I had no doubt Emily would have heard our conversation, but her eyes were focused on the passing scenery, her face carefully blank.