Authors: Christina Crooks
Rough Play (23 page)
It opened. A woman was thrust inside but immediately fell to the ground.
“Wait!” Charlotte said, but the door shut and latched again, leaving her in light still too dim to examine anything closely. Including the woman.
“Hey.” Charlotte touched her with her boot, gently. The woman appeared to be naked, lying on her stomach, her white flesh catching the light in strips. Glints of sweat or blood pooled in divots and shallow grooves. Charlotte hoped they were shallow.
“Hey. I think you’re hurt. Say something. Are you okay?”
The woman groaned. Then, “What the fuck do you think? Am I okay. Are you one of the lobotomized monkeys, or do you still have two brain cells to rub together?”
“Gail!”
The woman slowly pried herself onto her side. Charlotte felt the weight of her regard.
“Charlotte.” Gail managed, with a grunt of pain, to rise to a sitting position. “You are so fired.”
23
I
t was finally Halloween, and Martin sat where he could watch the front entrance of Subspace. He’d sat there since just before the sun went down, until now—hours later—and all he’d seen so far were far too many costumes of vampires.
t was finally Halloween, and Martin sat where he could watch the front entrance of Subspace. He’d sat there since just before the sun went down, until now—hours later—and all he’d seen so far were far too many costumes of vampires.
If he saw another glittery fanged creature of the night, he’d stake it.
His mood was foul. Two days had passed since Charlotte had nailed him in the nuts. They still ached when he moved.
Not as much as the rest of him, though. His brain and heart especially. He should’ve handled her better. He should’ve handled everything better. Martin swiveled in his vinyl seat, winced. He scowled as he flagged the waiter.
Instead, Amethyst slid into the booth, across from him. “I have some good news. Want to hear it?”
“No. Go away.” He paused, looked her over. “You’re not in costume. They shouldn’t have let you in.”
“You’re not in costume, either,” she retorted.
“Owner’s privilege. Besides, I’m scary enough naturally.”
“Har, har. You’d make a good clown.” She grinned.
In fact, his friend was all but dancing in her seat, her purple locks swinging to and fro. Martin sighed. “Okay. What’s your good news?”
“I’m so glad you asked! I’ve found a way to buy Subspace.”
He looked away with exasperation. Toward the door.
More sparkly vampires made their way past the doorman. Would he even recognize Charlotte if she came in costume? She probably wouldn’t come at all. And he had no way to reach her.
He remembered Amethyst. “We’ve discussed Subspace a few times, Amethyst. It’s no longer for sale at the moment.”
She lifted a tiny flash drive on a lanyard loop, swung it back and forth as if she were trying to hypnotize him. Her gaze was certainly intense. “It’s all here.”
“What’s all there?” He looked past her, glanced again at the entrance. His gaze went back to the small black rectangle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. As usual. Where’s Ratty? I thought for sure he’d come for Halloween.”
Her smile lit her face up in ways he’d never seen before. It made him remember Charlotte declaring Amethyst and Ratty had a lifetime thing. It made him think of Charlotte’s own bright smile.
It made his heart hurt and his balls ache.
“Ratty will come in his own time. Ratty’s wearing a special costume.”
“Not another vampire, one hopes.”
“Will you please pay attention? Who are you looking for?” she finally snapped when he glanced again toward the door.
“Charlotte.” His cock throbbed. His balls throbbed worse, of course, but that was to be expected. And was his own fault. “I have some things to straighten out with her. I think she thinks I kidnapped her friend. Well, her client. And it’s true her client probably is actually abducted, since I have the phone. It’s a long story.”
“My story’s better.”
Martin glared at her, opened his mouth to tell her how wrong she was.
She spoke first. “You know I’ve done pro-domme work. The money’s been great and I enjoyed men paying me for the honor of debasing themselves at my feet. Your boss, Richard Corvine, is a bootlicker. One of my regulars. I’ve got him recorded—right here—paying homage to my thigh-highs. On his knees.” She grinned. “I made him state his name and occupation for the record, before declaring him a naughty boy. He’s not a very thorough bootlicker, I’m afraid. He missed some spots. I had to grind him underfoot a few times.”
Martin stared.
“So, Master Martin, you don’t have to worry your scary little head any longer about any incriminating photos falling into his hands. He won’t dare to take the smallest action with them once he knows you have this.” She tossed Martin the flash drive.
He clutched it. “You’re not kidding? No, I can see you’re not. Richard Corvine. The same Richard Corvine?”
“Petclub tycoon? Yep.” She grinned, smug.
“I don’t believe it.” He saw her look. “I investigated him from every angle, but everything slid right off the man. He was as pure as a man of God.” Humor bubbled up inside him. “Damn. He’s your boot cleaner, huh? I looked everywhere to pin something on him, then you go and find his dirty secret. It was right in front of me the whole time.”
“Everyone has secret fantasies. He’s just like most people out there: good at hiding them. Especially the super naughty ones.”
The black square of plastic rested in his palm. It held the power of freedom if Amethyst was telling the truth. “You’re amazing,” he said with awe. “Relentless and amazing. Mistress Amethyst.”
He saw her shudder. “Not ‘Mistress’ anymore, please, at least for a while. I promised Ratty a shot at topping me tonight. Can you believe it? So.” She flicked a finger against the flash drive, her nail clicking against it. “This means I get to buy Subspace, yes?”
“Yes. Yes, gladly.” He cast another glance at the door. A tall man wearing a rubber mask entered. Something about his posture seemed familiar.
Martin sighed. “I’ll gladly unload this place on you. You offered a fair price.”
She looked at Martin, her gaze keen. “What’s wrong then?”
“Charlotte is what’s wrong.” He gave Amethyst an abbreviated version of the scene two nights before. “It ended as badly as it gets. She jumped to the conclusion I’m worse than Kartane.” No wonder she hadn’t returned to Subspace. “He’s the one who took Gail downstairs to the dungeons, he’s the one who hurt Charlotte when they were married, but I’m the one who gets all the blame.”
“Kartane took her downstairs. Hmmm.” Amethyst nodded, taking it all in. “You still have the phone?”
“Yeah. All of them. Now that the blackmail threat’s gone, I can bring them in to the police.” He started to rise.
“Hang on a sec.” A deep frown furrowed Amethyst’s brow. “Kartane wanted Subspace, too. I don’t think he meant to say it out loud, but he once talked about the club as if it was going to be his own personal hunting ground. Soon.”
They stared at each other.
Martin’s pulse sped. “You don’t think . . . ?”
“That Kartane’s your blackmailer? Sure.”
“How’d he get into Subspace? You’re the only one besides me with a key and the security code.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Ah, so that’s why you’ve been weird lately. You thought I was blackmailing you. Silly boy.”
“If I’ve been weird lately, it has to do with more than just you. Self-centered girl. Since you’re so smart, answer the question. How’d Kartane get inside Subspace to deliver the phones?”
“I have a better question for you. Where’s Gail?”
Martin swore, rose to his feet. “Of course. We’ve got to get those phones to the police.” He had a thought that chilled him. “What if Charlotte ran to Kartane that night? Jesus, I’m an idiot. He might have taken her just like Gail. We do have to go to the police right now.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Martin turned at Amethyst’s tone, and just stared, open-mouthed at the man who stood before them.
“I am Ratty of Gor!” Ratty had a cloak thrown back, showing his scarlet tunic, sandals, and the sword in its scabbard slung over his left shoulder. The knife attached to his leather belt looked real. His metal helmet, with its Y opening, covered his tattoos of rats. A pouch at his waist bulged with its unknown contents. “Fear me!” He grinned at them both. “What do you think of my warrior costume? The tharlarion boots were kind of challenging, but I know a place that does soft leather work.”
“Ratty?”
“Yes?”
“We’re kind of in the middle of something.”
“Ah.”
Amethyst took in his expression. “Maybe you can help us. We were just wondering how someone might enter and leave Subspace without being seen, or tripping the alarm.”
Martin could tell from her voice she didn’t really expect an answer, had in fact only asked to make Ratty feel included, but the slender man was nodding. “Easy. The Blood Orange room, the really old dungeon? It could be connected up to the Riverport undertunnels. They’re a network of old tunnels that reportedly go from nearby businesses to the river. Or, they used to before being bricked off.”
Martin and Amethyst looked at each other. Martin shook his head. “Kartane took her downstairs, and nobody saw her again.”
“Saw who?” Ratty wondered.
Amethyst nodded. “It makes sense. We have to look.”
“Agreed.” The two rushed off.
Amethyst hurried back, grabbed Ratty by his leather belt, and pulled him along.
24
C
harlotte finished using the bucket, unable to help grimacing in distaste. The odor cleared her sinuses. The bucket hadn’t been changed since she’d arrived two nights ago. As she made her way across the hard-packed dirt floor, she stumbled over Gail’s bare feet.
harlotte finished using the bucket, unable to help grimacing in distaste. The odor cleared her sinuses. The bucket hadn’t been changed since she’d arrived two nights ago. As she made her way across the hard-packed dirt floor, she stumbled over Gail’s bare feet.
The woman’s lack of reaction showed how much of her spirit had leached away during the past days. “Hey,” Charlotte said as she settled against a metal wall as far from the bucket as possible. “Are you okay?”
“I want to hurt him.” Gail spoke in a monotone. “Then lock him in a dark cell. See how he likes it.” She moved slightly, and Charlotte heard her bite back a whimper. “He thinks he’s some sort of king. A ‘Ubar.’ He’s crazy.”
Gail didn’t have to say who she meant.
Charlotte nodded, then realized Gail might not be able to see it in the dark. “Yes, he is.” Gail’s condition frankly worried Charlotte. Yesterday Kartane took Gail out for another session with something that made an ominous thudding sound. A brick? A rock?
He’d ignored Charlotte, except for the hot, spicy drinks he watched her swallow. Caffeine? An aphrodisiac? He’d called it slave wine. It wasn’t poison, but neither did it make her warm to him. Quite the opposite.
What was he thinking? He hadn’t touched her at all. Saving her for something special? Or did he prefer to break only one woman at a time?
For that was clearly his intention. Gail had told her everything the first night, from Elizabeth’s help trying to escape to the inventive punishments meted out by both Talia and Kartane upon their recapture. “He won’t stop until we beg him to enslave us. Beg for his brand. Beg for his use.” Gail’s tone had revealed the depth of her horror. “We have to get out of here.”
When Kartane had flung Gail back into the cell, the woman couldn’t do more than curl up into a ball and shudder.
She sat listlessly now. It frightened Charlotte as much as anything else. Gail wasn’t the listless type. “Talk to me. Are you okay? Can you walk? Can you run?”
“I want to hurt him. Brand him on the forehead with a big
G
so everyone knows he’s a Gorean pig. I want to hear him scream.”
G
so everyone knows he’s a Gorean pig. I want to hear him scream.”
“Gail, you have to snap out of it.”
“He kidnapped Elizabeth. She’s just a kid.”
“Gail, please.”
“I want to hurt him.” Shadows moved as she turned her head. Charlotte could feel the weight of her gaze. “I believe I will get a sperm donation. I’d rather do that than have anything to do with men. Not ever again. And if I’m pregnant with a boy instead of a girl, I’ll abort it.”
Charlotte felt tears gather in her eyes. “Gail,” she began helplessly.
The lock rattled.
Both women scrambled backward, as far from the door as they could get. They huddled together.
The door swung open, admitting enough light to make them squint. “Hello, slaves.”
He waited.
Charlotte remained silent as long as she could, but fear rose quickly in her. Whatever he’d used on Gail, it had left her incapacitated for hours.
It was only their words he wanted. For now.
Gail moaned her rage and defeat.
Both of them finally replied with reluctance, “Hello, Master.”
“Very good, slaves.” His tone carried triumph.
Charlotte tasted bitterness in her mouth.
“Charlotte. I placed you here with Gail so you could learn your place relatively painlessly, by proxy. But it occurs to me I’ve been neglecting you. Do you feel neglected?”
“Yes.” She ignored Gail’s gasp of surprise. “Why don’t we go grab a cup of coffee and talk this over like civilized people?”
Kartane laughed. “Oh, certainly. In time. First, however, I have a question for you.”
Charlotte heard the familiar jingle of her keys, the ones he’d taken from her the first night.
“Your apartment contains something of mine. I can’t seem to find it.”
“You went into my apartment?”
“It’s much easier with keys,” he agreed.
Realization hit her. “That was you last week! Picking my lock, trying to break in. What on earth were you looking for? We split everything in the divorce.”
“A piece of property is missing. A very important piece. I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve asked you about it before. I’ll describe it again. It’s a small, flat stone, very plain-looking, with the initial
G
formed on its underside.” He looked at her. “You’ve seen it.”
G
formed on its underside.” He looked at her. “You’ve seen it.”
“I remember your asking about it. You said it was a paperweight that had sentimental value.”
“You know where it is.” He approached her.
“Don’t tell him where it is!” Elizabeth shouted.
She’d been so quiet after being punished for the escape attempt, Charlotte had all but forgotten the girl in the cell next door.
Kartane was on Charlotte, hauling her up and forcing her against the metal. “You’ll tell. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell.”
“It’s his Home Stone! The Ubar’s Home Stone! Without it he has no power!”
“Shut up!” he snarled.
“The Ubar has lost his Home Stone!” Elizabeth called out, her voice echoing through the darkness. Shocked murmurs came from all directions. “The Ubar of Gorr is outcast! We’re free!”
“You’re free when I say you’re free!” But Charlotte felt the tremble in Kartane’s grasp. She could smell his fear-fouled breath. He muttered, “God damn it.”
Suddenly Gail attacked, more viciously than Charlotte would’ve expected. It loosened his grip on her, then broke it. Charlotte slipped away easily, gaining just enough distance. Then turned and, with one still-booted foot, kicked him in the stomach. It drove him back, off-balance and gagging. The two women edged past him and rushed to make their escape. They shoved the cell door shut. Metal clanged as they threw the latch. They looked at each other over it, then shrieked when Kartane threw his body against the door. “Talia!”
They backed away. “Talia will let him out. We have to go. Now. But . . .”
“But nothing!” Charlotte pulled the naked Gail back toward the tunnels.
Gail grabbed her arm to stop her, completely unself-conscious about her nudity. “Not that way. And we have to let Elizabeth out.”
“Okay. Crap. Okay, yes.” They rushed around the metal walls to Elizabeth’s cube, opened the latch. “Oh, baby.” Elizabeth lay on her side, her legs and arms tied behind, drawing her body into a bow so tight her red silk poncho bunched underneath. Gail hurriedly untied her, her hands swift and compassionate on the thin young girl. Charlotte helped them both to stand.
Kartane threw his body against the door again. They all heard the cracking sound. “Come on!” Gail cried. She led them away from the tunnels, but before Charlotte could object, Gail explained, “Talia and Kartane’s other favored slaves are that way. The rooms are more comfortable, with lounge chairs and tapestries and large beds. Elizabeth described it. The asshole’s got himself tiered slave pens. We’re in the ghetto section. We don’t want to go uptown. I know there’s an exit in this direction—a tunnel to Subspace—I’m just not sure where.” Gail stumbled.
Charlotte supported her and Elizabeth both. “You guys are in bad shape,” she despaired as they limped forward too slowly.
Gail shoved at Charlotte weakly, anger without strength. “You two go ahead by yourself then. Maybe you’ll find the exit without me.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” Elizabeth promised.
Charlotte tightened her grip on Gail, hauling her forward more quickly. Did Gail get some kind of perverse energy from being obstinate? “Stubborn bitch, aren’t you?”
“It works for me,” Gail replied, gasping for breath. “Bitch,” she added.
Elizabeth’s arms draped around both Gail and Charlotte. The young woman pointed with her chin. “Is that it?”
An enormous tapestry of a warrior slaying a dragon dominated the wall.
“Behind it,” Gail said.
They wasted no time shoving the tapestry aside. They saw the door made of plank wood so old it was rotted in places.
“They’re coming.” Elizabeth said it calmly, but her face blanched of color. “A lot of them. I really thought the loss of Kartane’s Home Stone would make them rebel against him. Please hurry.”
“Okay. The door’s sticking. I’ll have to kick it. Let go for a sec.” When their arms dropped from her, Charlotte raised her leg and kicked the wood. Dust puffed into the air. She kicked it again, but it only rattled in its jamb. “They don’t build them like they used to,” she muttered.
A strong grip pinched her shoulder painfully. “Got you.”
Her heart skittered into panic as Kartane’s fingers dug in cruelly. A wild fear sealed her throat and made her limbs heavy and stupid. She moaned, inarticulate, her mouth instantly drying out, her tongue clumsy.
He had her again, and she wouldn’t get another chance at freedom. This was what she’d tried so hard not to think about. His cruel possession brought her back to the unspeakable time when she’d been the focus of his sadistic attention for two days. Being tied and tortured and branded, being betrayed, all the while with him convinced it was what she wanted.
He still believed it.
She’d wondered, during the worst of the pain and humiliation, if she’d brought it all on herself. If she deserved it.
If she’d created the monster he’d become by being one herself.
Knowing the depravity he’d sunk to, and with a repeat of the same or worse fate facing all three of them, and the same questions plaguing her now more than ever, Charlotte finally found her voice. She shrieked her horror.
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