Dirty Desire (14 page)

“Man, it’s been over two days since she’s been gone. We need to call the cops.” Leigh’s persistent need to get the officials involved is finally wearing off on me. We’re going to have to do something else if we’re ever going to find her. We’ve exhausted almost all of our friends’ help in the matter. I thought I had a guy that could trace credit card use, but there’s been nothing since before she’s been gone.

How the hell is she getting money? Where the hell is she staying?
Fuck!

“I just don’t know where she could be,” I huff, leaning back in my chair and running my fingers through my hair. I’m a nervous wreck that she’s gone for good and I’ll never be blessed with her hot as hell attitude again.

“None of your guys came up with anything?” John asks from across the room. We’ve been sitting in this office since she went missing. None of us have gone to work…this has been our job. Finding her and bringing her home has been my main focus. Everything else is on the back burner until I find her.

Then it dawns on me.

Kayla expected to have her by now.

Kayla hasn’t called to check in.

Holy fuck.

“I know where she is,” I blurt, throwing myself out of the chair and shoving my shoes on as fast as I can.

“What?! Knox wait!” Leigh tries keeping up with me but I’m grabbing his car keys and in his car before he’s even found his shoes.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise! Thanks, man!” I yell as I whip the car out of his parking spot. Springfield is a few hours from here, and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that Kayla is behind this. Blinding rage courses through me the entire drive. She fucking took her…I know it. I should have known she was up to something when she showed up here, but I never expected her to kidnap someone. Why the hell haven’t I thought of this before?!

And if I’m right, she’s going to be using her new plaything at the club…just like originally planned.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, pounding on the steering wheel as I get stuck in traffic.

It takes forty-five minutes longer than usual, but I make it to the house with an hour to go before the club opens. I don’t know if she’d actually take Harper on stage this soon, but if she kidnapped her I wouldn’t put anything past her.

“Let me in,” I growl to the gatekeeper.

“This isn’t your car, sir,” He says, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I know it’s not my fucking car! My car is in the pound because it was totaled! Now open the fucking gate!” I can feel my skin heating and I’m sure I look like a madman, but he does as I ask and opens the gate.

Speeding through the driveway, I leave Leigh’s car parked in the front of the mansion and storm into the front door.

“Kayla!” My voice bellows through the empty halls. “Kayla!” Running to every room of this massive fucking house, I come up empty handed.

Where the fuck would she be keeping her that’s not here?

Oh my fuck the club. There are all kinds of storage rooms and private rooms in the basement of the club.

“Fuck!” I bellow, slamming the door on my way back to the car.

The club is a short drive from the mansion and when I get there, there are only a couple cars in the parking lot. None of which I recognize.

I go inside as calm as I can just in case someone sees me, but I’m burning with rage on the inside. I rush down the stairs, my heart thumping in my throat as I run to the room.

The mother fucking room I was planning on dropping my conquest. Goddammit I’ve been a fool.

“Harper!” I yell, swinging the door open.

Empty.

The sheets on the bed are ruffled which just ups my belief that mother fucking crazy ass bitch Kayla took her.

“Kayla!” I scream, bursting out of the room and into the hallway. I feel like a madman, but there’s no telling what she’s putting Harper through at this point.

I’ll lose my fucking club before I let her hurt my girl.

A light around the corner catches my eyes and I run towards it. “Kayla!”

“Don’t fucking move,” a man with a very large build growls. He’s guarding the door and I have slim to no chances of getting around him, but I’m not going to stop trying until I get to her.

“Move,” I growl, fists clenching. The door behind him leads to a room that’s never been used. I’m guessing exactly what I need is behind that door. I just need to get around this mammoth to get to her.

“Let me in!” I bellow. “Kayla!” I run at him, and as soon as I make it close enough to get to him I hear the gunshot.

“Shit,” I hiss, grabbing my leg while I go down. “Mother fucker!” I yell at him, ready to murder people.

“I told you not to move.”

Just as I start to black out from pain I hear heels clicking in the distance.

I’ll kill her.

When I wake up I’m in a totally different room. The walls are red and black. There’s a soft hint of murmurs going on around me. I have no clue what day it is or what time it is…everything’s blurred together recently. There are voices around me…hushed tones of a crowd…but I can’t make out any specific voices

What the fuck is going on?

I tense, trying to curl my body up in a protective position, but I fail. My bare arms and legs are being held to the table by some type of strap and all of my senses immediately go on high alert. Looking around, my breath coming in short spurts and my arms starting to tremble, I only see walls. They put some sort of gag in my mouth, probably so I don’t scream out for help. There’s a guard around my neck, causing me to be completely immobile and unable to see what’s in front of me. I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for something, anything. I can only imagine where I am right now, but I’m praying so hard for it not to be true. When nothing happens, I start to replay the last thing I remember and my breaths start calming down.

The last thing I remember I was being prepped for a bath. Something the guards are positive is necessary two times a day. Once in the morning and once at night. After that I’ve got nothing. I did bathe. I shaved like requested. They’ve allowed me one disposable razor each time, and each time I’ve had half a mind to use it as a tool against them but I wouldn’t last that long against them. I’m about the size of the door guard’s right bicep.

Every day I’ve been here I’ve been woken, showered, fed, and shoved back in my room with my guard. The first few days I refused to eat, but then my will to survive kicked in and I accepted the dry, tasteless energy they fed me. My guard doesn’t talk to me. He glares at me when I start pacing and he always stops me from going too close to the door. After he made me pass out that night I’ve had a gnarly bruise on my throat and it hurt to swallow for a few days so I’m not about to try that maneuver again. My days have been pretty mind numbingly boring, actually. I don’t know who has me. I don’t know what happened outside my door that day. I don’t think I’ll ever know, really. I’m certain there’s no one out there that’s coming to my rescue. My mind has been playing tricks on me lately, thinking I’m seeing things that I’m not, so I chalk it up to an illusion…even if it was clear as day Knox’s voice. The one time I tried to fight back I was knocked out…I haven’t given up I just have to be smarter about it.

It’s getting to the point where I just want to get it over with. Whatever they’re keeping me here for…I want it over. I can’t spend the rest of my life living in solitude in a basement. I think it’s only been around a week, the marks on the wall say so, but I’m not certain. With no windows and no telling what time of day it is, I have no way of tracking time. I guess that might be a good thing, not knowing how long you’ve been gone with no one looking for you.

A bell brings my attention back to the present and suddenly there’s something being drug across my skin. It’s spiky and running up my leg. A moan from somewhere in front of me makes me jerk at the restraints. Jesus Christ it’s a sex club. I’m not stupid, I’ve read the books. I know places like this really exist. How can someone get off on this?! I want to scream out for someone to help me, but the gag in my mouth is stopping me.

The man walks over and takes the gag out of my mouth, pushing a small earpiece into my ear. A voice comes to life.

“Don’t make a sound, Harper,” the woman says. It’s the blonde woman. The one that took me. “The louder you are, the more you’ll regret it. People aren’t here to hear you scream in resistance, they just want to watch. Let them watch.” She purrs like she’s not doing anything wrong right now.

“Fuck you,” I whisper so only she can hear me.

Suddenly a crack cuts through the silence and sends searing pain down my inner right thigh. I cry out and another hit happens on my left. He’s hitting me with a whip! I can feel the tassels falling from my leg but this time I don’t cry out. Every time the whip comes in contact with my skin I grit my teeth a little more, trying my hardest not to make noise.

The louder you are, the more you’ll regret it.

I’d rather not know how bad I would regret it. As it is I think I’m still wearing panties, I’d like to keep it that way.

He continues his torture, gently trailing the tassels of the whip up and over my panties, then up to my breasts. I hate that my nipples are pebbling from the gentle touch. I hate that people are watching my body respond to something like this. Do they not know I’m a prisoner here?! This isn’t willing, people!

“Good girl,” her voice comes into my ear again and I wish I could rip out this earpiece and break it into a thousand tiny pieces. “Almost done.”

The man at the table, who from what I can see has tattoos running up and down his arms, has moved to the side of me. His hands, warm with some type of liquid, come down on my stomach and start massaging me.

Everywhere.

“No,” I whisper, trying to wriggle out of the restraints. “No!” I yell, forgetting all rules when his hands reach my breasts. He pushes me back to the table and squeezes hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

This isn’t supposed to be happening. Wherever I am…this can’t be happening!

I hear a few louder voices in the crowd…a man moans in the background and a lady sighs.

No.… No, please no
.

His fingers start playing my nipples and I curse myself for even remotely thinking it feels good. This sick fucking bastard.

I pinch my mouth shut and squeeze my eyes closed, trying to block everything out. I can feel the nerves running through my body, making me shake from fear. His hands roam my body and every now and then I hear a moan come from him. I can’t open my eyes for fear of what I’ll see.

How is this happening to me?

My breaths come in short gasps, my mind starts swimming as I’m violated in ways I never imagined in front of a crowd of people.

I need this to end.

With tears streaming down my face, I hear a bell and suddenly all contact leaves me. He’s not even standing by me anymore and I breathe a sigh of relief…but not too much relief.

I know this isn’t over.

As the table starts to shift, I feel a pinch in my neck again and everything goes black.

“You pushed her too far on the first night.”

I hear her voice through the fog but I refuse to open my eyes.

If I don’t open them they don’t know I’m awake and they can’t hurt me anymore.

Maybe they’ll just leave me here to die.

“I did exactly as I was told,” a voice growls.

“I never said to make her cry. Patrons don’t want to see that shit.”

I fucking knew it.

“Not my fault you picked a weak one.”

“I DIDN’T PICK HER!” The woman screams before storming off, the click of her heels loud in the silent room.

I hear a man chuckle when she’s gone and immediately tense up. This is the man that was with me on stage. This is the man that touched me in ways I’ll never be able to wash off my skin.

Rage is burning inside me and I’m trying not to cry, but the memories of what happened to me bring the tears back to the surface.

I’m not fucking weak…

“Get up,” he barks, making my eyes fly open. “Shower. You stink.” He throws a bar of soap at me as I slowly sit up from the bed. Whatever they knocked me out with earlier is still buzzing through my system.

“Up! Now!” he barks, startling me. He’s bald, muscular, and full of tattoos.

I glare at him, wanting nothing but to spit angry words at him but I save my energy.

When the door to the bathroom slams I mutter under my breath “Fucker.”

Maybe I am weak after all.

After turning on the water and waiting for it to run at least luke warm, I step into the shower and immediately regret it.

“Shit,” I hiss as the water runs down my thighs.

I look down and see the welts on my thighs. Red, angry, raised marks mar my thighs from where he hit me earlier.

All because I made a noise.

Next time I need to be silent.

Listen to me…next time! Am I already that far gone that I’ve resigned to this being my life? I’m just going to sit here and accept the fact that this is going to happen to me normally now?

The bar of soap in my hand gets a good workout as I try to scrub this evening off of me. Once clean, I give my entire body another once over, trying to wash away the memories of what I was just put through. By the end of my shower my skin is red and burning; the welts on my thighs feel like they should be bleeding already. I wish they were.

I wish I could just end this so I don’t have to go through that again.

I know that’s not an option though.

Fuck, I need to get out of here.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself anymore. My skin is pale, there are dark circles under my eyes. Not a big surprise since I’ve been held in a basement for god knows how long. I can tell I’ve already lost weight…Jesus Christ is this what I’m letting myself turn into?

No.

I won’t.

I won’t become that weak girl that was hidden away from society for years.

Looking around the bathroom, all I see is the bare minimum.

And then my eyes hit the mirror.

Glass.

After a quick glance at the door, I start working on the mirror. If I can loosen it from the wall I can get a piece of it off without having to shatter it. The less noise the better.

The minute I hear the pop from the wall there’s a loud banging at the door.

“Get the fuck outta there, this isn’t a spa!” The guard starts unlocking the door and I rapidly wrap a towel around myself before the door swings open.

I glare at him as he takes me by the arm and pulls me out of the bathroom.

Please don’t notice the mirror, please don’t notice the mirror.

He deposits me back in the bedroom and I beeline away from him, straight to my bed.

“Wait…where are my clothes?” I start searching the bed. Nothing. “They were here when I left!” I spin to glare at him but he’s just grinning.

He shrugs at me and winks, then slams the door closed.

“Fuck!” I need my clothes! “Give me my goddamned clothes!” My banging on the door goes unnoticed, at least to anyone that matters.

I have to get out of here.

I can’t go through that again.

Pacing the room, I try to calm my nerves but as soon as I start to calm down I hear the lock disengage on the door. My eyes grow wide and I tighten the towel around my body, standing frozen in the middle of the room.

As the door open, I hear her before I see her.

The click of her heels.

“Harper,” she purrs, practically floating into the room. Perfect, mother fucking cunt bag bitch.

“What the hell do you want with me?” I hate there’s a quiver in my voice. I can’t show fear around her. She feeds off fear.

“Cooperation, Harper.” She chuckles. “That’s all. I just need your cooperation.”

“I’ve never played well with other girls,” I growl. She grins, then shrugs.