CAPTOR (The Alpha Brotherhood) (Standalone Dark Billionaire New Adult Romance) (3 page)

One man says that now I’m even better and some of them laugh. The auction resumes. There are fewer bids, but the price goes even higher. The two voices at the end aren’t the same as they were when I was wearing the corset. They aren’t as friendly, probably because I’ve attracted a different sort of clientele. I’m so glad I took that fucking pill. I hope it works.

A door at the back of the room opens right before a victor is declared. The flashing lights and thumping music from the strip club in front fill the private theatre as a man’s silhouette appears. Suddenly the house lights come up and the men in the seats are just as illuminated as I am. Most of them look so normal. I wonder who was about to win.

My eyes lift to the surprised man sitting on the throne. Normal is not the word I’d use to describe him. Despite his age, he’d probably be attractive if there was any life behind his eyes and his face wasn’t so lined from a perpetual scowl. His attention finally turns to the man still standing in the doorway, but the intruder isn’t looking back. He’s staring directly at me.

The room goes quiet as the trespasser crosses the threshold. Based on the mumbling, they know him and the king should be nervous. His eyes are so blue, so surprised. I can’t pull mine away. Somehow I feel more exposed now that I can see who is watching me and I cover by breasts with my arm as the intruder completely ignores the rest of the court and strides toward the frightened girl standing at the guillotine. Me.

Zoey

My pulse gets faster and faster with each step he takes until he’s next to me on the stage and I’m relatively sure my heart will explode. His lips parted, he stands there blinking at me in disbelief. I’ve never been so close to someone naked like this and I choke out a sob, flinching as he reaches toward me. But it doesn’t hurt, he just tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lightly tracing the square of my jaw as his head cocks to the side.

Most girls would have used their other arm to cover their crotch, but my hand is splayed out as widely as it can to conceal the scarring on my flank. The intruder’s gaze finally breaks from mine and drops downward. At first I think he wants to look at my boobs until his fingers gently circles my other wrist and pull it away from my ribs. He inhales sharply as he looks at my scars, his eyes narrowing as his brow furrows.

“What year were you born?” he whispers, his eyes still surveying the damaged skin.

That’s a strange question, but then again, this is a strange situation. “1994,” I reply.

He lets my hand go and brings his gaze to mine. “So you’re twenty.”

“Yes.”

“Is he making you do this?”

I’m not sure who he’s talking about exactly, but I’m not here of my own accord so I answer, “More or less.”

“Well, which is it? More or less?”

“I’m not really sure.” My voice cracks as I drop my chin to avoid his intense stare.

“I think that means less.” The intruder takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. I exhale in relief and pull it tighter around me. “How much do you owe him?” he asks, lifting my face.

“Um… well, it’s not really my debt but—”

He shakes his head dismissively. “Just tell me how much.”

“Twenty grand.”

“Twenty thousand dollars,” he scoffs. “That’s a drop in the bucket compared to how much you owe me.” The trespasser speaks loudly now, turning away from me and addressing the crowd. “I wonder how much I could charge for the privilege of bending you over and making you scream, Marlowe?”

“Excuse me?” the man on the throne replies, gesturing for the guards that are approaching us to stay where they are.

“You’re more than ten million dollars in the red and you aren’t nearly as pretty as she is, are you? It’ll probably take you a while to work off your debts.”

Marlowe’s eyes narrow. Now that I have a face and a name, I’m starting to understand just how much trouble I’m in. “Shane, you come into my house and insult—”

“It’s my house now. I own it. Like I own you.”

“I don’t owe you shit, kid.”

“Learn to read the fine print, old man,” Shane spits back, snickering. “I know you’re accustomed to dealing with thugs, but officially recorded debts can be bought and sold. Terms can be changed when certain agreements aren’t met. You took something from us. Guess who’s here to collect?”

“You’re…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You didn’t even know. That’s how little you pay attention to your official portfolio, isn’t it? Or should I say my portfolio. Because on paper, everything you own adds up to a lot less than you owe. Let’s just say your creditors were more than happy to be done with you and participate in our hostile takeover, loan consolidation program.”

“Shane, I don’t know what you and your family think is going to happen, but—”

“Leave my brothers out of this. I’m all grown up now and off the leash. You can’t call my father to keep me in line. Our lawyers are visiting yours as we speak to discuss the terms, but I’ll bottom line it for you. You can’t pay me in a briefcase full of blood soaked cash, you son of a bitch. I don’t take kilos of sub-par cocaine. I don’t want your whores. This club is mine. Your construction company is mine. The restaurants, the convenience stores, and every other front that you use to launder money through is all mine. Good luck conducting your real business without them.”

The whispering gets louder as rumors are exchanged amongst the onlookers. “Don’t listen to him,” Marlowe says dismissively. “He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

“You’re the only one in the dark, Marlowe,” the confident man beside me laughs. “The cops you pay to look the other way can’t help you anymore. The politicians whose palms you grease won’t touch you with a ten foot pole now. By the time we’re done with you, the fucking house you live in will be mine and that pretty little trophy wife of yours will be on her knees trying to convince me not to repossess the beds that your children sleep in at night. Too bad, guys.” Shane steps closer and pulls me tightly against his body by my waist. “Auction’s canceled. This is mine, too. She owes you twenty grand? That means she owes me twenty grand.”

He tries to pull me along, but my head is spinning and my feet won’t move. “No,” I murmur.

“Trust me, Cherry. You do not want to stay here,” he whispers.

“No, I can’t do this, I—”

“I will drag you out of here by your hair if I have to,” Shane snaps. “Don’t make me. Walk.”

“No!” I growl, but I take a step with him because he does seem to be the lesser of many evils. His jacket conceals everything that needs to be covered, but I still feel naked and when we pass the corset lying on the floor, so I dip down and grab it. “I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans when they brought me here,” I blurt out. Why am I saying this out lout instead of thinking it?

“And?”

“They’re in the back, can’t we—”

“I’m sure one of the prostitutes is already appreciating them,” he says. “Move your ass. Now.”

“You can’t honestly think you’ll get away with this,” Marlowe’s voice bellows over the murmuring men in the theatre seats.

Shane stops, exhaling in a growl. “I already have,” he replies with a laugh.

“Please don’t do this,” I beg, twisting away from his grip.

His eyes flare as he reclaims his hold on me and it suddenly doesn’t matter if my feet don’t want to move because they aren’t touching the ground anymore. My captor’s fingers dig into my flank as he pulls me along with him. I struggle at first until I see an exit sign over a black door that I’m desperate to walk through. Now his pace quickens to match mine.

I draw in the most refreshing breath of air I’ve ever taken, but it only lasts a moment because Shane pulls me into the back of a limousine. The urge to curl up into a little ball is overwhelming, but if I bring my knees up to my chest, I’ll flash him because I’m not wearing any panties, so I cross my legs and pull his jacket tighter around me instead.

The bastard ignores me once the car starts moving, just staring out the window with a flabbergasted expression. Eventually my pulse starts to slow until my eyelids are heavy.

“This is awkward,” I tell him after a few minutes of riding in silence. Why does he look so surprised?

“You’re telling me, Cherry.”

“Stop calling me Cherry. It’s not my name.”

“That’s not particularly surprising,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Well, what is your name then?”

“Zoey,” I reply. The knot in his throat jumps as he swallows loudly. Is it a bad idea to give the man holding you hostage your real name? I hope not. “What?”

“That doesn’t work for me,” he says flatly.

“What doesn’t?”

“Your name.”

“Dude… Look, I’m not a prostitute, I don’t really know how this works,” I explain, resisting the urge to further defend myself against his skeptical expression. “So if you need to give me another name, fine. I guess. Just don’t pick Cherry.”

“How do you feel about Z?”

“Now that’s ironic,” I laugh.

“Why is that?”

“I’ve always wanted that nickname because it’s actually kind of cool, but there was another girl named Zenobia around when I was a kid, so it was taken.”

“Well, you’re the only Z here now,” he replies, scooting toward me. I knew the distance between us was too good to be true.

“Back off,” I snap. “And stop looking at me with your crazy eyes.” Why do I keep saying inappropriate thoughts out loud?

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” he chuckles.

“That’s what I’m told.”

“I can fix that, you know.”

“You can go…” What am I doing? Shut the hell up! This guy is probably going to kill me anyway, I shouldn’t give him a reason. “I… Can we just get this over with please?” Preferably before this pill wears off. “I just want to go home.”

“You’re not going home,” he informs me. “And there’s nothing to get over with. I don’t need to pay for sex and I’m not a fucking rapist, so quit trembling and cowering like that. You’re spoiling a wonderful moment for me.”

“Oh.” I exhale in relief. I suppose laying the financial smack down on one of the most infamous drug lords in Chicago is a pretty big deal, but it still doesn’t explain this. “Why did you buy me then?”

“Because you looked so…” Shane’s expression loses a bit of its arrogance for a fleeting instant. “Because I wanted to further humiliate him. And repossessed would be a more accurate term.”

“Was all that stuff you said true?”

“Yes.”

“Why won’t you take me home?”

“I can’t.”

“So where are we going?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly growing tired of my questions. “To my place.”

My heart falls into my stomach. “You’re just messing with me, aren’t you? Does giving the girl a false sense of relief make it better for you? Is that your thing?” I hiss.

“No, this isn’t my thing,” he snaps back. “And most women would probably manage a thank you to the guy that kept them from getting brutalized, you know.”

“I’m not ungrateful okay, but throwing out a ‘thanks’ seems a little premature because it implies that I trust you actually won’t… And I’m not ‘most women,’ by the way.”

“No, Z. You definitely aren’t that.”

“Do I... Why did you…” I want to ask him a question about something that happened back there, but I can’t remember. It’s right on the tip of my tongue, a memory so close but so far away. My eyes start blinking and everything gets hazy.

“Are you alright?” he asks, appearing genuinely concerned as he moves a little closer. This is probably a strange thought to have at such a moment, but this guy is really hot when he’s not being a total dick. His blue eyes are so light they remind me of the summer sky. Such a wonderful contrast to his dark brown hair and tanned skin. Shane snaps his finger in front of my eyes. “Zoey?”

“I thought you didn’t like my name.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just…” he trails off, growing more concerned. “Seriously Z, are you okay? You’re eyes are all over the place.”

“Actually, I’m a little woozy. She gave me something.”

“Who did?”

“Cassie. One of the strippers.”

“Prostitutes,” he corrects me.

“Don’t call her that. She’s always been really nice to me, to everybody. She’s a good person.”

“It’s her occupation, not a reflection on her character. You’re the one making all the assumptions.”

“Oh.” I guess that’s a good sign that he’s not a total dick.

“Do you know what she gave you?” he asks.

“That amnesia drug for people who are afraid of the dentist.”

Shane reaches toward me and I try to back away, but I can’t. I’m trapped. “I’m just getting my phone out of my jacket, Z. I won’t hurt you.”

“Please don’t grope me,” I choke, stopping his hand with mine before he can get it under the coat.

His head cocks to the side and he runs his thumb across my fingertips. Normally I’d pull it away, but there’s something strangely comforting about the physical contact. A tremor rolls through my body and my jaw starts to chatter. “God. What happened to you, Z?”

“I don’t know.”

“The phone is in the left breast pocket. Give it to me.”

“Okay.” I slide my fingers across my flesh, keeping the gap between the fabric and skin as tiny as possible. Finding the phone quickly, I slip it out just as discreetly even though his eyes never leave mine.

Shane leans back in his seat and starts swiping the screen. “Is this what the pill looked like?” he asks, showing me the phone.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“So you won’t remember any of this,” he says, his eyes glued to his phone as he continues to read.

“I guess not. I don’t know how it works.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Shane slides across the seat until our legs touch. I know I should be scared, but I’m not. The harshness and hostility that was all over his face drops away as his fingers trace along my hairline. He moves even closer, bringing his face to mine and inhaling, like he’s sniffing me. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathes.

“What?” I shudder, unaccustomed to the sensation. I’m not sure if he’s my savior or my worst nightmare and there’s nothing I can do about it either way. At first I enjoy it, he’s barely making contact, just lightly skimming his fingers across my features. Then he brings his other hand to my face and presses his lips to my forehead.