The 7: Wrath Page 2

  Her pants turn rhythmic in a telltale sign she's close to coming. The walls of her pussy ripple around my hard cock, and I slip my hand between us, pressing her harder into the tree so I can get to her clit. My fingers find it like a heat-seeking missile finding a target. I swirl and press against her, and her pussy clenches around me, practically strangling my cock with her little, tight, hot, wet walls. She cries out my name…my real one…and it pushes me over the edge.

  I roar and empty myself inside of her.

  That's when I feel the familiar press of a cold muzzle against my temple and hear the click of a hammer being pulled back.

  “Konstandin…I’m surprised. It’s not like you to be caught with your guard or your pants down. How things have changed.”

  My blood freezes in my veins, and Jade stiffens. I don’t bother to look at him. I keep my gaze locked on Jade, willing her to remain calm and not panic…yet.

  A hand reaches under my jacket and removes my gun from the holster.

  I clench my teeth. “And it's not like you to do your own dirty work, Tarek.”

  He chuckles, a dark, disturbing sound that matches the ice in his heart. “Well, it’s not every day your brother steals your fiancée. This called for my own hand.”

  FOUR

  Splitting pain in my head and darkness…

  That’s what greets me when I come to.

  I don’t even remember him hitting me, but the throbbing at my temple tells me it was likely with the butt of the gun.

  Probably a Sig 226. It was always his weapon of choice.

  The fact that Tarek hasn’t killed me yet should be my first clue that things are about to get bad, really fucking quickly. But I don’t even have time to consider it before a blow lands against my temple, knocking my head to the side and sending blood rushing down my cheek.

  Motherfucker.

  That woke me up.

  I shift, and some sort of restraints bite into my wrists and ankles. Cool metal of a table presses against the exposed, naked skin of my back.

  Where the fuck am I?

  A blinding white light flips on above me.

  “Fuck!”

  I turn my head to the side and clench my eyes shut against the offensive bulb.

  Familiar soft beeping noises fill my ears.

  Medical equipment.

  A hospital?

  A blow to my stomach robs my lungs of air and removes any thought I may have that I might be somewhere safe.

  While I gasp for breath, heavy breathing echoes in the room from whoever is taking the shots at me.

  A hand grabs my chin and turns my head back until the light shines through my lids. Something blocks it out, and I slowly open my eyes.

  Emotionless dark eyes.

  Surgical mask.

  A doctor?

  But where’s Jade?

  Any attempts to turn my head to search my surroundings are thwarted by the strong hand on my jaw.

  “Well, Konstandin. It seems you’ve been a bad boy. You know what happens to bad boys? They get punished.”

  Another blow knocks away any ability to process his words. But not before I catch the slight accent. He’s from the motherland.

  Fuck.

  Blood gushes into my mouth. I swallow it and choke. My gagging coughs ricochet around the room, and he laughs, a deep, sinister sound that sends chills over my already cold, exposed skin.

  It’s not Tarek. I would know his laugh anywhere.

  This is someone new, someone he brought on after we fled. This is the new me. The enforcer. The bringer of pain.

  This is the man who will eventually kill me, unless Tarek mans up and decides to do it himself.

  Not yet, though.

  Tarek won’t make it that easy. He’s going to drag this out, beating and torturing me for as long as he can before I finally succumb and my body gives up.

  And God only knows what he’s doing to Jade.

  Rage boils through me, breaking through the fog of pain, and I tug at the restraints. Leather bites into my skin.

  Fuck.

  I won’t get anywhere. I know that. But I can’t not try. I can’t leave Jade in Tarek’s hands, not even for a minute.

  Blows rain down on my body until a dark haze overtakes me.

  Any sense of time is lost.

  All that remains is pain, fear for Jade, and rage.

  I can handle just about anything. But her…

  Christ, she’s an innocent in all of this. It was a fucking arranged marriage to my brother organized by her father who saw her as nothing more than a bargaining chip in his negotiations for territory. She didn’t choose Tarek. She didn’t choose his life…this life. She never wanted it.

  And now she’s alone with one of the most sadistic fuckers I’ve ever known.

  A strike lands in my gut, forcing my breath from my lungs. My chest seizes, and I gasp for air through the agony.

  Fuck!

  “Better settle in and get comfy.” It’s a clear warning of things to come and only the second thing he’s said to me since I awoke.

  The silence is intentional, a tactic I’ve often used in these situations over the years. It makes people uneasy, desperate. I used it to get information, to get compliance, to get control. He is using it to try to break me, to make me panic.

  But it won’t work on me.

  Whoever this motherfucker is, he clearly doesn’t know who or what I am.

  And that will be what gets him killed. It’s only a matter of time before he makes a mistake. Everyone does.

  Except me.

  Until I got complacent…

  I never should have let my guard down. Especially not in public. I don’t know those people from the party…not really. Any one of them could have been working for Tarek or have made an offhand comment to someone who knows him and inadvertently outed us.

  Now Jade’s paying the price for my mistake.

  Footsteps retreat…ten…twenty feet maybe…and a door opens. The bright light above me remains on. I turn my head to the side, trying to survey my surroundings.

  A metal door closes behind the man before I can catch a glimpse of him.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Three locks.

  Footsteps on stairs.

  Given the chill of the room, lack of any windows, and the stairs, I can tell I’m definitely underground.

  Cocksucking motherfucker.

  There’s no way I’m getting out of here unless that door is open or I have the keys.

  I don’t know where I am or how long I was out.

  I could be literally anywhere. Tarek would have had his plane waiting to take off as soon as he grabbed us. I could be back in Philly for all I know. Or we may have never even left Denver.

  It doesn’t matter. Wherever I am, I’m getting out. And then, I’m finding Jade, getting the fuck home to my dog, and ending this, once and for all.

  FIVE

  Time has no clear meaning. No definites.

  With no windows, no phone, no contact with the outside world beyond my tormentor, all I can do is try to count the number of times he comes and goes.

  Ten.

  That door has opened and locked ten times since I arrived. I think, at least since I woke up.

  Ten opportunities to escape. Ten failures.

  Because this guy is good. I didn’t give him any credit that first day. I underestimated him.

  He doesn’t make mistakes.

  I’ve never seen his face and haven’t heard his voice since the first time he visited me here. The occasional wicked chuckle accompanies his sick, demented torture, usually when he breaks out some sort of implement designed to inflict maximum pain.

  Blow torch.

  Tire iron.

  Vise grip.

  The familiar tools I’ve used a hundred times have been turned on me.

  With anyone else, I would have been out of here within twenty-four hours. Because most people are morons when it comes to keeping someone restrained and
contained.

  But not this fucker. He knows what he’s doing, and he has medical training, that much is evident.

  An IV keeps me hydrated, and he must be injecting some sort of nutrients or something to keep me alive this long, because he sure as shit isn’t feeding me. He’s also giving me some sort of drug I can only describe as diabolical. Whatever it is, it makes my limbs feel like lead, but allows me to experience the full pain of every single cut, burn, twist, and strike he inflicts.

  It’s the perfect drug, the ultimate in torture tech. I wish I’d had it when I was still working.

  Instead, it renders me immobile while this asshole works me over.

  And with every moment that passes, the rage inside me builds. Rage at my brother, rage at this man, rage at myself for letting this happen.

  I should have known I couldn’t walk away from that life. Even if I hadn’t fled with Jade, there’s no way Tarek would have let me lead a regular life. He relied on me too much to keep everyone in line, to do his dirty work, to ensure his empire was protected from every conceivable threat. And I did it for him, time and time again, giving away a small piece of my soul with every limb I severed and life I took. I did it because I loved him, because he was my flesh and blood, because I had never known anything else, any other way of life.

  It was a downward spiral into Hell. Until the day Jade was brought to him…to me. I never knew something so pure, so innocent, so beautiful existed in this world. It never had in my world, the world that was created the first time I took a life and then was nurtured and twisted further by my brother.

  I tried to leave that world. That was my first mistake. The second was believing I could ever truly hide from him.

  For the millionth time, I twist my wrists, digging the leather straps further into my irritated flesh. Blood trickles down and pools under my hands, spreading across the steel below me. Any skin under the restraints was ripped away days ago from me trying to free myself. But the ties won’t budge.

  No one is this good. No one except me.

  He will make a mistake. Eventually. Even I did.

  I just have to remain alert. Because not getting out isn’t an option. I have to get to Jade.

  If that fucker lays so much as a finger on her…

  Blind fury overtakes every fiber of my being imagining all the things that have been happening since I let her get taken.

  I failed her.

  But it won’t happen again.

  Footsteps descend the stairs, and a shadow blocks the thin line of light at the bottom of the door.

  He’s back.

  Click. Click. Click.

  The door pushes open, and he steps inside.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Once the door is secured, he makes his way across the bright room, casually, as if he’s on a morning stroll instead of entering to rip me to shreds while my heart still beats.

  I’ve been watching him. He’s big and carries himself well. There’s no doubt in my mind he doesn’t need the medical tricks to inflict damage on me. I think he enjoys it, though. It’s a game. A sick, twisted game, designed to prolong my agony.

  Removing flesh.

  Burning my body.

  It would be hard to do without this set up. Much easier for the captive to escape.

  This gives him time. As much as he wants to practice his craft.

  He’s a real sadistic fucker, and that’s saying a lot, knowing what I’ve done to people.

  The flash of a needle in the bright operating lights catches my attention. A mere moment after it’s pushed into the IV in my arm, a heaviness descends on my limbs. I try to pull against the restraints, but my body is lethargic and useless.

  He leans over me, and despite the mask, the smile is evident in his eyes. “Oh, what I have planned today…”

  His head tips back with his laugh, and he reaches for a bolt cutter.

  Shit.

  This is gonna hurt.

  SIX

  He doesn’t even realize he’s just made a huge mistake.

  The agony in my hand and shooting up my arm barely registers over the thrill of knowing I’m getting out of here…soon.

  Cutting off someone’s finger is brutal and a staple of torture.

  It’s also really fucking stupid when you have them strapped down to something and are depending on the restraints to keep them compliant.

  The leaden feeling in my limbs will wear off after a few hours. It always does.

  Once that happens, I’ll be able to slip my left hand free of the restraint thanks to now being sans-pinky.

  The man who doesn’t make mistakes has finally opened the door for his own demise.

  It was only a matter of time, and now that it’s happened, I can barely contain the excitement bubbling through me.

  I study the back of the man who has sliced and diced me for almost two weeks. He has no idea that by this time tomorrow, he’ll be dead.

  What I wouldn’t give to be able to have a few days with him in this playroom to inflict upon him what has been done to me ten-fold.

  He will get what’s coming to him, but getting to Jade trumps my desire to exact the type of revenge that’s burning in my brain and gut right now. She’s the only thing that’s mattered in my life since the moment she first smiled at me and that unfamiliar tug in my chest formed. My black, dead heart warmed with something I’d never experienced before.

  And I won’t fucking lose that.

  “Are you done for the day?” My words come out more like a croak through my raw, scratchy throat.

  It’s stupid to engage him. I know that. I try to never give him any indication that anything he’s done to me hurts. And that’s a real motherfucking chore. I’ve gritted my teeth so much and so hard, at least two have cracked. But knowing I’ll have the upper hand shortly has brought about a new bravado and desire to fuck with this cocksucker.

  His turn back to me is slow and methodical. “Would you like more?”

  Dark eyes roam over my naked form. “Perhaps you wouldn’t miss a rib or two?”

  He stops at my cock. “Then again, the American serial killer…what was his name? Ah, yes…Dahmer…he may have had the right idea with keeping certain things as trophies. It would add a little something special to my collection. I can keep it next to your finger.”

  The mere mention of my missing digit causes a throbbing to erupt again in my hand.

  “Who needs a pinky anyway?”

  The doc chuckles and returns his attention to my face. “That may be true, and you won’t be needing any of your appendages anyway.”

  My balls shrink up into my body at his words. Maybe antagonizing him was a bad call. If he decides to continue working me over there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

  He leans back and shakes his head. “But I won’t take it tonight. You’ve lost enough blood as it is. I wouldn’t want you to go into shock. Having to revive and stabilize you would ruin my dinner plans.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved by someone else’s hunger.

  “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Konstandin. We have a lot of work to do.”

  He’s certainly right about that. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. As soon as these drugs wear off, this fucker is mine.

  His retreating footsteps and the clicks of the locks falling into place allow me to relax, as much as that’s possible while strapped to a metal table, bleeding from an amputated finger, and about a million other cuts.

  Jade’s green eyes flash in my mind.

  The pain means nothing.

  Nothing means anything.

  Not until Jade is safe and back in my arms.

  Tarek won’t kill her. No, in his own sick, twisted mind, he loves her. That’s what terrifies me the most because Tarek’s version of love isn’t anything a normal person would recognize.

  I didn’t even know what it was until I met Jade. And even then, it took six months of watching her, guarding her, and seeing what a truly mag
nificent and innocent person she was to finally realize the tightness in my chest and the racing of my heart weren’t caused by any ailment. I had fallen in love with my brother’s fiancée. And for some reason only God knows, she loved me back. Even through the hard, bloody exterior, she saw into the depths of my black soul and found a sliver of light.

  No one has ever meant anything to me. No one ever got close enough to touch my heart. But she didn’t just touch it, she consumed it, and me.

  I don’t even care if she never forgives me, if she says she never wants to see me again after letting this happen. As long as she’s okay, I can find a way to scrape and survive, even without her. Even though she is the very air I breathe. I just need her to be safe.

  SEVEN

  The thump of his footsteps descending mirror the thudding of my heart.

  But I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous.

  I’m ready.

  The agony of working my hand free from the restraint after the medication wore off took a while to ebb, but once it did, I was able to move from the table that has been my prison for almost two weeks and explore the room.

  All the weapons of my torture were laid out for me like a fucking smorgasbord.

  Fuck, I really wish I could spend some time with this asshole to give him what he really deserves.

  I scrub my good hand over my face. I’m such a fucking hypocrite. He’s not doing anything more than what I’ve spent the last fifteen years of my life doing. I guess it’s different when you’re on the other side of the fist, or crowbar, or bolt cutters…

  Although, honestly, I’m not afraid of death, nor would I ever give my brother the satisfaction of knowing the torture got to me. But Jade changed everything.

  I will fight to my last dying breath for that woman, no matter what it costs me.

  My hand throbs. I managed to stitch up the worst of my wounds, but the pinky situation…there was no stitching that. A powdered clotting agent and a bandage was my only option. Luckily, this fucker also had antibiotics on hand, so I dosed myself with that too. There’s no time to stop for medical care when I get out of here. I just have to pray infection doesn’t set in before I can get to Jade.