Beyond Ransom (The Ransom Series) Read online

  It truly is hopeless.

  Mark doesn’t seem fazed. He’s radiating a smile toward me, practically beaming. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Robert. I had hoped to save your daughter from an extended stay, but it appears she might as well make herself comfortable here.”

  I can’t look at him anymore. The thought of spending another hour here, let alone days or weeks or months, absolutely destroys me inside. How long will it take for Mark to give up on my parents ever pulling together enough money to pay the ransom? How long will it take for him to use and abuse me until I’m spent and then kill me?

  “Please.” My dad’s voice is trembling. “Please don’t hurt her. Give me time. I’ll do as you ask. I’ll get your money. Just don’t hurt my girl any more than you already have.”

  My heart breaks for him. I want to speak up and comfort him, to let him know that I’m hanging in there and surviving and that I’ll wait as long as it takes for him to save me. I don’t want him to be hopeless.

  Mark’s expression hardens. “I’ll do what I want with her, when I want to. The longer you take to get my money, the greater the chance that she’ll come back to you in more pieces than what I took from you.”

  “Will you let me talk to her? Can I see her?” Dad’s voice is becoming desperate.

  “You’ve asked for two things. You’re only getting one of them.”

  The more I hear Mark speak to my dad, the more I realize just how in command of the situation he is. Mark holds all the cards. I barely recognize this version of my dad on the phone. The hard-ass detective with the tough exterior is nowhere to be found in this battle. I feel like Mark is winning without even trying.

  “I want to see her,” Dad decides.

  Mark looks at me and puts a finger to his lips, motioning for me to remain quiet. I comply without question. I have no intention of making a crazy outburst of useless information on the call this time.

  Mark fiddles with his phone for a few moments then faces it toward me. The screen is small from the distance Mark is away from me, but I can make out the blurry outline of my dad’s face. It warms my heart a thousand degrees to see him and even more when my mom’s dark brown hair and red face enter the picture.

  “We’re going to get you home, sweetheart,” Mom says between sobs. Dad seems at a loss for words with his hand over his mouth.

  Hearing their voices hits me particularly hard, but seeing their faces is too much. Tears instantly pool behind my eyes and race down my cheeks. I wish they could reach through the phone and pull me to them. I’ve never wanted to be in my parents’ arms more than at this moment.

  “It’s your lucky day, Mr. and Mrs. Whitford.” Mark’s voice shatters the beautiful virtual moment my family was just sharing together.

  “What do you mean?” Dad asks, as confused as I am.

  Mark leaves the phone trained on me. “It turns out you’ll get the opportunity to talk to her, though she may be too busy screaming to talk back.”

  I’ve just started to process Mark’s words when he nods to man at the side of the room. I noticed him standing there before, but now he’s wearing a ski mask that covers the majority of his face.

  He rushes me, grabbing my chin and pulling my head back with one hand as he moves swiftly behind me. I can feel the cool metal of the blade of the knife he’s holding to my throat with his other hand even before its sharp edge pierces my skin. I yelp as the flesh opens and proceed to screaming as he traces the blade slowly across my neck.

  When he’s done, he removes the knife and leans in close to the side of my face. He takes in the scent of me briefly before kissing my bruised cheek through the mouth opening of the ski mask. He moves his head a little more and kisses me directly on the lips. I try to cringe away, but he holds my face there, forcing me to taste his chapped lips and cigarette breath. Eventually the man pulls away from me while still holding my head back in my neck’s most vulnerable position.

  I hear my parents’ frantic cries through the speakerphone the entire time. Mom is in hysterics at one point, and then I don’t hear her anymore. Silence fills the room, and I wonder for a moment if the phone call has been disconnected. Warm blood seeps out from the superficial wound on my neck as we all await whatever is going to happen next.

  “Who is that? Which fucker on your crew just drew blood from my daughter?” Dad’s voice is furious. “Who’s next in line after you to get a bullet in the head when I find you all?”

  The tough and determined dad I’ve been waiting to hear is finally back and fighting for me. Despite my bleeding neck, I’m thrilled to hear him pissed. I want him to channel his anger into the search to find me. He’s no longer hopeless.

  “Goodbye, Robert. Nice speaking with you as always.” Mark ends the phone call without another word, and my dad’s face is no longer looking back at me on the device. I immediately miss him.

  “Sensitive skin there on the neck, isn’t it?” Mark asks me. “Just a little deeper and he could have cut your throat.”

  I can already start to feel the blood drying as it drips down my neck. I’m so sick and tired of bleeding for this man.

  “You’ve only just encouraged him, you know. The last thing you should be doing is pissing my dad off.”

  I don’t know where this sudden bout of courage is coming from given my situation, but I’ve put it out there and it’s too late to take it back.

  “He can be pissed all he wants. I need his fury. I encourage it!” Mark seems about as fired up about this as my dad was. “It’s not going to make the money appear in his account any faster. It’s not going to give him a magical path to find you, dear.”

  Mark can say whatever the hell he wants. Dad’s found a reason to fight for me again. That’s all that matters.

  “I’m sick of this sudden attitude, girl. As much as I love looking at your pretty face, I can’t stand having you here a moment longer.” He looks over his shoulder at the back of the room. “Leo, get this little shit cleaned up and put back in her cell.”

  Leo. Thank God.

  As much as Mark thinks he’s won this evening, I feel like the true victor in this little exercise he’s put on. My dad’s probably doubling his efforts to find me at this very moment. To top it off, I’m leaving Mark’s presence for the night in the company of the one man in this building who I can almost trust.

  I have to remember my place, though, and stick to my expected role with Leo. I’m supposed to be his submissive captive. To Mark and the other men, I have to appear wary of Leo. I have to play my part in his show, too.

  The truth is I don’t really get the chance. When Leo finishes undoing my restraints, he moves on immediately to his charade, or what I have to hope is his charade. He grabs me by the arm and practically rips it from my socket as he pulls me toward the door. I stumble to keep up with him, almost face-planting before I find my footing. He’s doing a little too good of a job with this act.

  7

  Proximity

  When we’re outside the door and on our way down the hallway, I rip my hand from Leo’s grasp. He turns to me with a furious look and grabs my hand again, pulling me around to a stop to face him.

  “You shouldn’t talk back to him,” he whispers through clenched teeth. “You’re asking for trouble the moment you open your mouth against him. You haven’t figured that out yet?”

  He’s scolding me, and it pisses me off, only fueling the fire within me. “Sorry, I have a hard time keeping my fucking mouth shut if you haven’t figured that out yet.”

  After a moment Leo’s face softens. The glare of annoyance and frustration leaves him, replaced by a look of concern. He tilts my head back with a slight push of my chin and inspects my neck. “We need to fix this up. Come on.”

  “Why you?” I say as he pulls me by the arm again down the hallway.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re always the one treating my injuries. Are you some kind of doctor?”

  We stop briefly outside a small offic
e. Leo grabs a first aid kit from a shelf just inside the door.

  “I’m not a doctor, but I’ve been learning from one. It’s important to have useful skills in this business. Having a purpose is a good way to ensure survival.”

  “I’m glad.” He looks back at me with confusion, so I clarify my comment. “I’m glad it’s you doing this part.”

  With an uneasy smile, Leo leads us through the building and back to the cell I’ve become so familiar with.

  He opens the door and motions me inside. I pause for a moment, my body reluctant to go in at first before I remember who I’m with. After spending most of the day in the main room with Mark and the other men, it’s hard for me to remember that Leo isn’t the same as all of them, or at least he doesn’t seem to be the same.

  I take a seat on the cot, and despite how hard and uncomfortable it is, I feel the desire to lie down on it and fall immediately to sleep. Being in this place in a constant state of fear and pain and worry about the unknown is utterly exhausting.

  Leo sits down next to me. “You okay?”

  “Tired,” I reply.

  “You’ve been through a lot.”

  I anticipate the next words out of his mouth. “And there’s more to come, right?”

  My insight into Leo’s thoughts causes a small smile to work its way into his face. I really wish he didn’t have such a nice smile. Dark strands of hair are falling in his face again, another thing I wish would stop happening. Why does this man have to be so damn good-looking?

  Leo focuses on the first aid kit next to him, digging around in it until he pulls out some small packages of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He returns his attention to me with a look of debate flickering over his face. “Why don’t you lie down so I can get a better look at your neck?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” I’m surprised by my bit of humor, and I love that he read my mind about my body’s desire to return to a horizontal state.

  I lie down on my back as Leo readjusts to kneel on the floor. He tears open one of the small packages and wets the gauze with rubbing alcohol. “This might sting.”

  He wasn’t kidding. It stings like a motherfucker as he touches the gauze to my neck. My eyes squint shut and my lips press firmly together as he continues to dab the gauze along the cut in my skin.

  “Sorry,” he says from above me.

  “It’s okay. It’s not that bad.”

  When the stinging subsides, I open my eyes. Leo’s face is directly above me, his complete focus on treating my neck, so I take a moment to study him. His skin looks soft and smooth despite the stubble on his chin, and my mind’s desire to test that observation is almost enough to compel my body to comply. His eyes are a cloudy slate blue tinted with more sadness than I ever realized eyes could hold. They’re only accentuated by the dark hair that surrounds his face. Even when he’s not smiling, he’s good to look at. He could be scowling at me and I’d still find him extremely attractive.

  I feel the gauze he’s using to clean my skin get dangerously low on my chest. Did I really bleed that far down? My shirt must have caught underneath me when I lowered myself to this position, because my cleavage is showing more than normal. Leo is surely noticing this as he cleans my skin.

  My nerves about this situation stick with me even after he’s done with the gauze. As he smoothes some ointment out over the cut, I don’t even notice the sting. All I’m focusing on is how close his face is to mine, our lips within inches of each other as he’s leaning in so closely to apply butterfly bandages to the wound.

  I don’t think Leo even notices our proximity until a slight gasp escapes my lips. They’re parted slightly, eagerly awaiting another pair of lips to reciprocate their fervent desire for contact.

  Leo stills above me for a moment, observing me intently and clearly interpreting the signals my body is sending to him. He dips his face down toward me until our mouths are within centimeters of each other. I can feel his breath pass between my lips. I can feel the heat of his skin so close to mine.

  He moves the tiny amount of distance to close the space between us and connects with my lips, touching them gently with his own before engaging them more forcefully.

  Our kiss becomes frenzied and desperate, as if this may be the last night we ever see each other and we’re making the most of the time we have left before we’re separated. Leo’s hands are in my hair, his thumbs caressing my cheek, his tongue exploring my mouth. I feel like he’s all over me and in me and on me in every way possible even though we’re only kissing. My hands fist his shirt and pull desperately at his shoulders and neck.

  I’ve kissed guys before in high school, but never like this. This is passion at its purest. This is undeniable lust. These are the needs and longings and desires of two bodies coming together in one moment amidst a swirl of surrounding chaos.

  I feel the change in Leo’s demeanor even before he withdraws from me. He stares at me for a moment, my eyes still wide with lust and my chest rising and falling erratically.

  “This is a bad idea,” he says quietly before standing up and looking at the door behind him. “This will not end well for either of us if we’re caught. We can’t do this.”

  I pause for a moment before looking away from him. Though my mind completely understands his concern, my body really doesn’t give a shit. Whatever just passed between us made me feel alive. I felt a strange taste of freedom despite my captive state. That one experience and this gorgeous and caring creature in front of me gave me something to live for, even if only for a few short moments. Now I just feel hollow.

  “Okay.” It’s my go-to answer in this place. It’s obedient and submissive, just how they want me to be.

  I can’t look at him now. I’m too embarrassed and disappointed in what just happened to face him.

  I hear the first aid kit being closed up followed by footsteps moving away from me to the door. My eyes close to fend off the burn of tears behind my eyelids.

  Leo doesn’t say another word as he leaves me, vulnerable and alone, locking the door behind him.

  8

  Shame

  It’s been an entire week since the day I was taken, and strangely, an uneventful week. I haven’t left my cell except for two short trips to the bathroom each day.

  The men who take me there are almost always different, and I’m thankful that none of them have tried to touch me or take advantage of me during their time in the presence of apparently the only woman within this entire building. They even let me do my business with the stall door closed, and I savor every single second of those precious moments of privacy that I’m given.

  There has to be a shower somewhere in this building, but if there is, they aren’t letting me use it. I’m given a wet washcloth once a day and told to wipe myself down during my time in the bathroom. I feel only slightly better afterward, though the stench and grime of this place seem to stick to me no matter how hard I scrub at my skin.

  I’m given one meal and a water bottle around what I believe to be lunch time each day. It’s always paper plates, plastic utensils, and plastic water bottles. They’re smart enough not to give me any kind of glass or ceramic dishes or actual silverware. I keep hoping that someone will slip up and give me any one of those things. I’d save it for a rainy day, hiding it until I need it to fend off the next person who tries to take advantage of me.

  I haven’t been placed on display in the main room with the other men since the day the skin on my throat was sliced open for my parents to see. That also means I haven’t seen them or talked to them on Mark’s calls, either. I don’t even know if Mark is calling them at this point. I’m clueless about what he’s doing and where he is. It’s not clear to me yet whether I should be delighted or terrified by that.

  Wherever Mark is, Leo must be with him, because I haven’t seen him since the night he engaged me in the most exhilarating and explosive kiss of my life. Being alone in this cell for hours on end each day has given me a lot of time to think,
to process this strange connection that Leo and I share, and I still don’t know what to make of it. It doesn’t make any sense to me why he’d seem to care for me when the rest of the men in this building only see me as a piece of meat dangling in front of their faces.

  The fact that Leo hasn’t stopped to check on me makes me worried. I find myself wondering if he’s okay, which is stupid considering he’s not the one locked in a cell and at the mercy of a madman. The thought has crossed my mind that maybe he doesn’t care, that he left me here to rot and I shouldn’t expect to receive his protection or compassion again.

  There’s one other thing about Leo that I’ve thought about a lot during my time alone here. That kiss. That beautiful moment when our bodies connected as one and for a short time I forgot about the constant fear and worry. We transcended this place in that moment, and I crave to be there again. I crave it almost as much as I yearn for open air and warm sunshine. I crave it almost as much as seeing my parents again.

  We shared a perfect moment together, and then it shattered. I feel like Leo has left me, abandoned me. The only person here who seemed to give a damn about me is seemingly gone, leaving me to fend for myself.

  I’m left alone with my thoughts for too long, trying to put myself back into that moment to experience it all over again even if Leo is nowhere to be found. I’m lying on the cot, my thoughts lingering on his rough lips introducing themselves to mine and his needy tongue mingling with my own. I miss the feeling of his hands in my hair and the touch of his fingers on my cheeks. What starts as a gentle warmth deep in my core intensifies to a burning heat just thinking about him.

  Frustrated, I roll around on the cot in my body’s natural reaction to dealing with the ache inside me. I’m desperate for some kind of release, so much so that my hand grazes my breast and squeezes it. My other hand lingers down to my shorts, my fingers rubbing at the cause of my current crazed state and sending a jolt of pleasure to course through me. I can feel the increasing heat in my cheeks with each quickening of my breaths.