Chapter 9

Laurie

Revulsion creeps through me as Carlos takes my hand and leads me out the door.

My head is swimming with ridiculous thoughts I just want to stop.

Until a few days ago, I never thought I’d meet a man who made me feel the way Parker makes me feel.

While Carlos’ touch makes my skin crawl, Parker’s hands on my body, ignited a flame I didn’t think would be extinguished so soon.

With every step closer to my room, I feel my dread increase even further. I know what will happen next.

I inwardly brace myself for what is to come when we reach my bedroom door. A shiver runs down me as I think of how ruthless he can be, and what he enjoys the most.

If there was even a glimmer of a possibility I could make it past the security on the first floor, I’d take my chances and run.

But even if Carlos wasn’t clutching my hand in his, there is no way off this floor.

No one comes in or out without Carlos’ knowledge. Just like I was two months ago, I’m trapped inside with a monster who’s fooled everyone.

There’s such malice written on his face, all my muscles tense in readiness.

Sure enough, he forces a kiss on me, brutal, hard enough to bruise my lips.

“You will oblige me for the inconvenience you’ve caused. And you will enjoy it. Just like you always do.”

I almost wish he were taking me to my bedroom, but when he’s this angry, the penalty must be paid.

He drags me along to the office no one else has access to and punches in a code.

Sweat has started to collect at the base of my spine, and my palms are growing slick.

The automated door swings open, and he releases my hand. “Sit down. Drink,” he commands.

I step inside the dimly lit room and try not to cringe as I see the screen and the drink he’s placed beside the screen.

I sit, body trembling as he turns it on and passes me the glass. “Drink it and you’ll enjoy this just as much as I do.”

My fingers tremble as I take a gulp of the wine I already know he’s laced with one of his finest enhancement drugs.

I swallow thickly, terror flowing through me as the picture flickers to life. A camera has been placed near an unmade bed.

“I don’t want to watch,” I say.

He stands behind me and places his hands on my shoulders and squeezes so hard I suck in a breath. “You will watch and you will describe every last thing you see on screen. Is that clear?”

Bile rises to my throat but I whisper agreement to his favorite game.

Heat rushes to my skin, and I can feel the warmth of a drug I haven’t touched in two months spread like wildfire through my veins.

I know it won’t take long to work, so I’m not surprised when a fog clouds my brain layering everything and making it impossible not to relax.

My breathing is slowing, and my heart rate to match. Just like every time he wants me compliant, I’m powerless to stop as he plays a pre-recorded couple having sex.

I never know the couples he films. Only that they aren’t aware they’re part of Carlos’ private peep show.

It’s another demonstration. One I didn’t need to be reminded of.

I know better than to look away, so I stay where I am, and prepare to relay what I see on screen until Carlos says otherwise.

The picture is grainy. Just like they always are. And the couple are beautiful. Almost like he handpicked them and cast them in his own private porn show.

I see the man first. He’s wearing a tight t-shirt over a muscled upper body, he’s deeply tanned, hair cut short, he’s smiling as he pulls a woman into his arms and kisses her.

The woman is a curvy blonde, full breasts, and a narrow waist.

I can see their tongues working as they fall onto the bed, and I know Carlos will want to hear it, so I clear my throat and find my voice comes out thick.

“He’s French kissing her.”

The couple are starting to undress each other, so I repeat what I’m seeing.

“He’s unbuttoning her blouse. She’s unbuckling his belt.”

I keep watching, feeling my skin heat as the man starts to kiss the woman’s breasts.

My body is starting to disobey me. I can feel an itch start to grow that Carlos will feed until I’m completely at his mercy.

“He’s kissing her nipples. Licking them. She’s groaning and pulling her skirt up.”

Carlos shifts so he can sit on the chair opposite so he can watch my reaction. It’s all I can do not to flinch as he whispers for me to keep talking.

“He’s pulling her panties down. Now he’s spreading her legs.”

Carlos’ breathing starts to speed the more we watch.

He’ll never touch me. His enjoyment is in forcing me to touch myself to get some ounce of relief.

“He’s using his tongue.”

“Where? Tell me where he’s licking her.”

I swallow. “He’s licking her pussy. She’s enjoying it, she’s holding his head in place.”

“What else is he doing?”

My body is rebelling the more I watch, and the more I see how much the woman is enjoying herself. “He’s sliding his finger in her. She’s opening her mouth, closing her eyes. She’s going to come.”

I moan as the man on screen tugs his pants down and starts sliding his hand up and down the length of his shaft.

I can feel myself getting turned on and I hate myself for it. “He’s rubbing his cock,” I breathe.

Carlos’ voice comes out as a rasp. “Now what is she doing?”

My fingers are creeping closer to my crotch. “She’s coming,” I whisper.

I watch the woman’s face contort into pleasure and let my hand slide to my panties.

“Is she faking?” Carlos asks.

My eyes shift to her face and shake my head. “It’s real.”

I rub myself through the fabric and feel pleasant trembles run through my body. “She’s smiling and getting on her knees,” I say.

I watch on, growing hornier the more I watch. The drug is making every inhibition disappear and replaces it with pure need.

I close my eyes for a moment and imagine I’m in bed with Parker. I think about the way his tongue felt, how hard his cock was, how much I enjoyed him inside me.

With his face on my mind, my fingers creep inside my panties, and I moan softly as I meet wetness.

Damn him. Damn Carlos for doing this to me again. He knows I’ll hate myself. He knows I don’t want to enjoy his sick game.

That’s why he does it. It’s a sadistic pleasure he can both arouse me and scare me.

But he’ll never fuck me. He’ll just watch me watch the couple, calling me names, telling me I’m worthless, that it’s my fault he can’t get it up.

“She sucking his cock. She’s licking his tip, and playing with his balls,” I say in a ragged voice.

I lean my head back against the chair and open my legs wider and rub my clit. “Now she’s climbing on him,” I pant.

My nipples are so hard, I tug my dress down so I can rub them. “She’s going to sit on his face.”

The woman leans over, and the man starts to lick her from asshole to clit. I moan too loud as my finger rubs faster until I can hear my wetness.

Just like he does, every time, Carlos starts to cajole me. “Weak, dirty whore, you loved this from the first time I showed you,” he says.

I don’t care. I don’t care what he calls me, he knows what this does to me. “I hate this. I fucking hate it,” I pant.

The woman comes and I can almost feel the pleasure traveling from her body to mine.

For years, I’ve lived vicariously through the women on screen, desperately wanting Carlos to relent and to touch me.

“I hate it, I hate,” I whisper.

Carlos’ only laughs. “Liar. Dirty little liar.”

I slide a finger inside myself and use the other finger to rub my clit, pretending like I always do, that’s enough.

But it never is. It never satisfied me. And even as I can feel my orgasm growing, I know, it’s not enough.

Not now. Not after Parker.

“I knew you wouldn’t stay away. You’re like a bitch on heat returning to her master.”

Somewhere in the fog, I find something to cling to, to anchor me to reality.

To the cold hard reality of the heartless and sadistic man who refuses to touch me.

My fingers stop moving, and the desire I felt seems to peter out.

I blink as the woman’s body starts to shudder and I see her lose herself in an orgasm.

But my own orgasm, one that always leaves me filled me with emptiness, with a disgust I can only come when on drugs and with Carlos’ forcing me to watch other couples, has vanished.

Carlos’ notices I’m losing interest and stands abruptly. “Why are you stopping?”

I shake my head and stare at the floor. “I don’t want this. I never wanted it.”

My movements are sluggish as I tug my bra back and adjust my dress.

“This doesn’t interest you? Perhaps you’d prefer another couple.”

I’m so used to him not touching me unless we’re in public, that I yelp when he grabs my hair and forces me to stare at the screen.

But it’s a new couple. This time the lighting is better. I can see a curvy brunette sitting astride a man.

I try to struggle, but he wraps a hand around my throat as a warning. “Watch it, whore. Watch.”

I start to cry silently as he holds me in place. The woman’s skin is so pale she looks like alabaster. Her hair is hanging down her back, and she’s rubbing her hands over her breasts.

“What is she doing?”

A tear splashes down my cheek. “Please. I don’t—”

His fingers squeeze, so I choke out the words. “She’s touching her breasts. Pinching her nipples,” I say.

Beneath her, an olive-skinned man is watching on as she drizzles oil over her nipples and takes great pleasure in watching as she rubbing the oil into her skin.

“She’s rubbing oil on herself,” I say.

A pang of terror stabs into my chest, making my breath seize. “No, oh, please, no,” I choke out.

The man is lying back, a slight smile on his face, his own broad chest glistening. The woman leans over, obscuring his face, but I’ve seen enough.

Cold realization flowing through me as Carlos releases me.

“You were watching me the whole time?” I hear myself say.

He leans closer and near hisses the words. “Of course, I was, you stupid whore. Did you forget you and your snatch are my property,” he spits.

***

Parker

“Married?” I repeat.

Amaya nods and sniffs as though it’s not important. “We have a deadline. You need to be back for check-in.”

I shake my head. “I need some detail. Laurie never said they were engaged.”

She checks her wristwatch. “But she did tell you she was his?”

I work my jaw as I try to read her expression. “Not exactly.”

Rather than acknowledge me, she taps on her watch. “Time is ticking.”

I nearly growl the words. “I don’t care about the check in. If they were engaged why was she living in a lookout out in the middle of nowhere for two months?”

Amaya narrows her eyes. “How the fuck should I know? I’m just the hired help. All I know is that I need to get you back before two o’clock.”

I sit back a fraction, mind spinning as I think about everything Laurie said. She was in no way or shape acting like a woman who was planning to get married.

But if she is, it explains why she was reluctant to return. I steal my chance and ask another question. “She said she owed Carlos. What did she owe him for?”

Amaya points to the road. “Drive.”

I shake my head. “Not until you tell me.”

She blows out a breath and looks more than pissed I’m disregarding her. “I don’t know all the details. Something about her mom being a junkie and Laurie ending up in care. Carlos met her at a restaurant. She was outside picking food out of the garbage can or something. He got her cleaned up, and she was grateful.”

That doesn’t fit with what Laurie said. But it’s close enough to make me doubt. “And she just moved in here with him? A girl off the streets? That’s more than grateful.”

Something in the way Amaya drops her gaze makes me wonder if even she finds the story hard to swallow. “Carlos is well known for his charity work. She’s not the only person he’s helped home and educate.”

I scoff audibly. “Laurie’s just a charity case who happens to live in his home? Fucking him is part of that, is it?”

Amaya gestures to the road, and then taps her weapon. “If Carlos fucks her, it’s none of my damn business. I told you what I know, now drive.”

I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, but I don’t pull back out into traffic.

“Laurie was scared. She didn’t want to go back. But he’s got something over her, and it’s enough for her to consider marrying him.”

Amaya’s face blanches. “Laurie is free to come and go. She spent the last two months in the mountains. Does that sound like a victim to you?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t say she was a victim. Why did you use that word to describe her?”

Amaya’s fists clench at her side, and her gun hand hovers over her Sig. “I knew you were going to be a pain in the ass. Move the car or I put a bullet in you.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why Carlos treats Laurie like a runaway pet.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t want to go messing with this. Trust me, Laurie knew what she was agreeing to when she moved in with him five years ago. She knew the conditions.

Fury starts to grow to new levels as I see just how trapped Laurie really is. I don’t know what kind of sick and twisted relationship she has with Carlos, just that he can control her, and keep her under lock and key.

“If he sees her that way, then why marry her?”

Her eyes narrow. “You keep asking questions, what the hell makes you think I’m going to answer?”

I shrug. “You seem to be the only person he trusts.”

She almost snorts a laugh. “He doesn’t trust anyone.”

She slides her hand to her weapon and taps the handle in a not so subtle threat. “Anything else? Or can we get moving?”

I eye her and keep my voice as calm as I can under the circumstances. A shiver is traveling along my spine. “Is Laurie in his employment?”

She near rolls her eyes. “She signed a contract just like the rest of us.”

Fuck.

In a lot of ways, Laurie was the perfect solution.

She thought she had freedom, so she wouldn’t try to run, but in reality, he was just keeping her locked up in another location.

And she was sitting on something she couldn’t possibly know about.

My skin rises as I fight the swelling panic. “Who took Laurie to the lookout?”

Her eyes narrow. “I did.”

She’s just dropped another bomb that I’m not sure I can deal with right now. “No driver? No extra security?”

Her eyebrow arches. “Like I said. I drove her.”

I nod, but more to stall than because I intend to leave. “And Laurie was what? Drugged? She said she woke up there.”

Amaya’s chin drops. “You’re asking too many questions. The last guy who did that came to regret it.”

At the emphasis on the word regret, I know she just gave me vital information.

Before she can pull her weapon, I lunge across the seat and push my forearm against her windpipe.

She struggles, arms flailing wildly as she tries to reach her Sig. I grit my teeth and push a little harder. “Did Carlos order you to shoot me when we get back to the lookout?”

She chokes out a word I miss. I ease off the pressure enough for her to rasp out a sentence. “Who are you?”

Her face is turning purple, eyes bulging as she struggles to breathe. I ease my arm off her throat and growl at her. “I’m no one.”

She doesn’t speak, but when I push the barrel into her skin, she flinches. “Are you trying to help Laurie? Is that what this all about?” she pants.

My heart is thumping against my ribs, thoughts stabbing painfully into me as I try to think of a way I can convince her.

I wrestle the gun from her holster in case she gets any ideas. “Why would Laurie need help? You said she was just crazy?”

Amaya’s lips press together. “But you don’t believe that do you?”

At the regret in her voice, I know she’s probably who I’ve been looking for. But I need to know why. Not just the who.

I shake my head. “I don’t believe she wants to keep working for him. If that’s what he calls it.”

Amaya shakes her head. “No one wants to work for him. Not really. The minute you sign, he has you for life.”

“How?”

Amaya’s eyes stay on the gun in my hand. “The construction is a front. His real business is in illegal software that can override end to end encryption.”

I frown at her. “So, what he hacks into your personal accounts?”

She shakes her head. “More than that. It means he has access to private phone calls. Text messages. Email. Video streams. He can hack into and watch or listen undetected any time he pleases.”

I sit back and release my arm from her throat. She rubs at her neck and glares at me. “You need to rethink this. Laurie isn’t worth crossing Carlos. She made her choice. She came back.”

And even though it shouldn’t be, that’s the part I’m struggling with the most.

I release a sigh and decide to lay it all on the line and hope I’m not wrong about Amaya. “This was never about Laurie,” I say.