Page 96 of Captive Souls

But it was too late.

They’d left me in a cheap motel room bathroom, handcuffed to the sink. My wrists were bleeding. So was my lip. My eye was swollen, and it throbbed like a motherfucker.

I’d fought them. Which maybe wasn’t smart, but I’d reasoned that I was fighting for my life. Knox was either dead—unthinkable—or hurt enough to leave them to hurt me. And he’d have to be heartbeats away from death to stop protecting me.

Either way, I wasn’t going to go quietly.

The men I’d fought against were much stronger than me and had no qualms about beating an unarmed woman.

I was still wearing a tee and panties. Luckily, the panties had remained intact, even though one of the men—Groves, was his name—had tried to wrench them off as I’d writhed on the cheap sheets of the bed, terrified that I was about to be raped.

But the second one, the one who was quieter, older and likely in charge, had stopped him.

“Stone wants her untouched,” he growled, ripping the man off me.

The younger, vile one was breathing heavily, eyes on me, on my exposed panties. “What does it matter?”

The man had let him go. “It’s your hands. Then your life.” He shrugged.

For a terrible moment, when I thought that man was willing to risk an empty threat and go for me again, my blood sang with real fear.

I exhaled with relief when his eyes darted away, and he muttered a string of curses. “What’s the point of this shit gig if I don’t get pussy?”

The older man glanced at me, sighing, as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy’?

I scowled at him, refusing to engage in any kind of false comradery with my captors. I was under no illusions that this experience would be anything like what I had with Knox. This was different. This was real. The throbbing in my eye, the stinging in my wrists and the bone deep fear coursing through me told me that.

Before Knox took me, if I was tied to a bed in a tee and underwear with at least one man who had made it clear he wasn’t opposed to rape, neither of them shying away from violence against women, I’d likely be a simpering mess. I would’ve been begging for my life.

But I’d changed in the cabin with Knox. I knew I’d softened him in a way that couldn’t be described, and he’d hardened me.

The strength he helped me discover inside myself meant I was able to scowl at both men, refusing to give up my power.

They stopped speaking to me after that, my would-be rapist sulking and scrolling on his phone, the other just sitting there, staring off.

My mind raced with escape attempts, with worry for Knox, wondering about my sister, if this meant that they had found out where we were because of her.

I knew she wouldn’t give up our location easily. The vision of how they might’ve extricated the information from her turned my stomach.

With my mind torturing me relentlessly, I struggled to keep my expression even, to hold the tears at bay. Creating grief in the unknown was a surefire way to insanity. I had to maintain my head. I gathered all of those panicked, painful worries and images, then I shoved them into a closet, bracing the door shut.

It rattled, but it didn’t open.

Stone had arrived at the motel after a few hours, wearing a three-piece suit and a sedate expression. As if he were walking into a boardroom and we were having a civilized meeting rather than a cheap motel where he had me tied to the bed.

“Piper.” His oily gaze traveled up my exposed legs. “Not the circumstances I wanted us to see each other again in.”

I pursed my lips, refusing to greet him.

“I’m disappointed,” he sighed, unbuttoning his jacket before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I thought Knox was loyal. But it seems he is just another snake who can’t control himself.” His eyes ran over me again, and I shivered in disgust. “Not that I blame him. I can understand why he thinks you’re worth dying for.”

My vision went blurry and a low roar erupted in my ears. I struggled to catch a full breath, as if all the oxygen was stolen from the room. “He’s dead?” I whispered, forgetting my vowto myself that I wouldn’t speak. The two words were rasped out, coated in pain, agony so visceral I could barely swallow a scream.

Stone smiled with satisfaction. The pain, the despair in my breath made him happy. “People who betray me, Piper, do not walk this earth for long.” He gripped my neck, hard. I might’ve focused on that pain if my heart hadn’t been splintering in agony right then. “You’d do well to remember that.”

I wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Knox wouldn’t want that. I wouldn’t give him that. “Fuck you,” I spat.

Another smile. “I will be fucking you, Piper,” he returned placidly. “The night you become my wife. And I’ll ensure that I do it so thoroughly that I remove any trace or memory of Knox that remains.”