Savior Read online

  The new scenery should be a welcomed distraction from my regular confinement but I don’t like being out here. Exposure coats my skin. I lose hold of even more of my strength in this great unknown.

  As sickening as it is to admit to myself, I feel more at ease in my gilded cage. I know what to expect in my torture chamber. I’m entirely susceptible here.

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re going to be fine.” I fake a smile even though it sickens me to lie to him. “It’s all for the best, remember? Your dad is helping Cole. He’s taking him away from the bad people.”

  Tobias’s lips move in an indecipherable response. I can’t hear him over the rush of ocean and the whirl of wind through my hair.

  “It’s okay.” I crouch to his level and look him in the eye as Luther and Chris stand at the steering wheel a few yards away.

  “No. That man was nice to you.”

  “That man?” I frown. “Your brother?”

  “No, the other man. The one you were angry with. He’s nice. He’s Cole’s friend. He’s not bad… is he?”

  Everything inside me clenches—stomach, throat, lungs.

  There’s still so much goodness left in this vulnerable child. I’m proud of him for being able to see past his father’s lies to think for himself.

  “He’s not a nice man, Toby.” I grab his hand and entwine our fingers. “He only acts that way.”

  I’ve had to remind myself of the same truth since the moment Luca approached me in the kitchen.

  His intentions weren’t kind. They were cruel. He knew exactly what to say to gain a reaction out of me. He’s a skilled manipulator. An accomplished sadist.

  “Everything will be fine.” I squeeze those tiny fingers. “Your dad would never let anything happen to you.”

  His eyes remain riveted on mine, uncertainty staring back at me.

  “I promise.” My assurance is yet another lie.

  I can’t be sure of anything anymore. I’m not even certain this excursion isn’t a trick. Or a test. All I know is that Luther will hand me over to his son as a peace offering and then try to facilitate a private moment for me to be alone with Luca.

  “Tobias, you’re going to make your father proud. He believes in you and so do I.” I stand and turn my attention to the inky ocean, no longer able to watch his suffering. “We’ll be okay.”

  We continue to bound over the water’s surface, the tiniest glow of the upcoming sunrise barely visible against the boat’s bright headlight.

  A darkened pier comes into view on the island we approach, with another boat lying in wait. Slowly, a man is illuminated, his features unmistakable even from this distance.

  Cole.

  He’s wearing a business suit, his tight expression a clear indicator of our lack of welcome.

  His demeanor doesn’t change when the boat’s engine is cut and the vessel is tied in place alongside the pier. He just stands there, tension ebbing off him.

  “What are you doing here?” He crosses his arms over his chest, his stylish jacket defining his muscled arms and shoulders.

  “Morning, son.” Luther walks to the side of the boat and holds out his hand for me to take. “We need to talk.”

  I remain quiet as I’m helped from the vessel, my bare feet dragging along the wooden pier.

  I let their conversation wash through me. I acknowledge the aggressive chitchat and Luther’s promise of not being armed. But my attention is focused on the darkness of the island, trying to find the target for my attack.

  Luca isn’t in sight.

  He’s not here to protect his boss. He’s not the one patting down Luther or Chris—that task is left to Cole.

  It isn’t until the cold eyes of his son hit me that apprehension truly takes hold.

  He’s so much bigger than I am. And from memory, Luca was even larger in frame. Those meaty fists could knock me unconscious in seconds. Those hands could snap my neck in an instant.

  “If you came to talk,” Cole mutters, “why did you bring a woman and child as a shield?”

  “A shield.” Luther balks. “Do I need one against my own son? Because I brought her here as a peace offering. The woman is yours.”

  I’m shoved toward Cole, my footsteps fumbling.

  “You’re handing her over?” He scrutinizes me.

  The weight of his appraisal is heavy. Cloying. The pinpoint focus makes me itch to brush my fingers over the hidden plastic tube to make sure it’s not going to fall from my waistband.

  I drag my gaze away to stop the nervousness from taking hold. I return my focus to the island. I work harder to find a man hiding in the scrub as Luther attempts to manipulate his son into inviting us up to the house, using Tobias’s fatigue as an excuse.

  They continue to argue under a tone of barely contained civility until finally Cole complies with a, “Fine. Go ahead.”

  He indicates for me to start walking. For me to lead us into battle.

  I don’t move.

  Unease hits me like a freight train.

  “Penny.” Luther waves a hand, instructing me to hurry. “You first, my sweet.”

  My pulse catches at the endearment. No, it’s a blatant warning.

  I have no choice but to obey. I have to do this to regain my position of menial power. To reassert my strength.

  Fuck.

  I hold out a hand for Tobias, who walks forward to join me, then we both lead the way to the end of the pier and onto the island.

  Murmured words carry from behind us, the subtle timbre letting me know everything remains faux civil as I make my way toward the light of the house up ahead.

  Tobias keeps glancing over his shoulder, watching, waiting. I clutch his hand tighter, attempting to calm the tremble of his fingers. It’s the only comfort I can provide. There’s nothing else.

  I can’t gush soothing words. I’m unable to lie to him anymore. I can only attempt to give reassurance in the tightness of my hold as we continue along a winding gravel path, bringing us closer and closer to the large expanse of a mansion up ahead.

  I take us into a house yard, my feet hitting cool cement tile placed around an immaculate pool.

  “I’m scared,” Tobias whispers. “I want to go home.”

  Me too.

  “Be strong.” I squeeze his sweaty palm tighter. “This will all be over soon.”

  I reach the glass door leading to the brightly lit living area and stop to wait for instruction.

  “Go.” Luther comes up behind me, shooing me forward. “Get inside.”

  “Wait,” Cole barks. “You, the woman, and the kid can go inside, but your dog isn’t welcome.”

  The demand twists my stomach.

  I look at Chris—the dog. Disdain crosses his features as I wait for Luther to voice a reprimand that never comes.

  I’ve never seen anyone disrespect this monster and get away with it. Not once. Not ever.

  “Whatever you say,” Luther complies.

  It’s an act. One I can’t mimic.

  “I guess I’ll stay here then.” Chris steps away. “Just so you can feel like more of a man for keeping me outside.”

  Cole claps him on the shoulder as he approaches the house. “If I were you, I wouldn’t forget your best buddy ate lead yesterday because of me.”

  I suck in a breath as white noise assaults me.

  Everything stops.

  Every. Single. Thing.

  Thoughts. Breath. Time.

  I glance between the two men as they exchange muttered retorts my mind can’t decipher. I’m stunned. Confused. And painfully hopeful.

  Your best buddy ate lead.

  Should I allow myself the luxury of believing the comment was made about Robert? That the vile, piece of shit might actually be hurt? Or better yet, dead?

  He didn’t return home with Chris and Luther.

  They haven’t made mention of him at all.

  My stomach heats, the warmth spreading rapidly as Luther stalks toward me, his glare enoug
h of a warning to get me to hustle my ass inside while Chris and Cole continue to swap barbs.

  I don’t allow hope free rein as I walk into the opulent house. I keep optimism’s wings clipped as I take in the open living and kitchen area, the entire space immaculate apart from a few mugs on the dining table.

  “Sit,” Luther growls. “Here, beside me.”

  He claims the recliner and pats his hand on the armrest.

  I do as instructed, sticking close to my nightmare, not only to be seen as an obedient slave, but to read his energy. I want nothing more than to confirm if the anger simmering below his surface is from the loss of his henchman.

  Tobias settles away from us, perching on the opposite sofa, right where Luther foretold him to be—alone, ready for Cole to take a position beside him.

  “Where’s Luca?” I whisper. “What happens if he’s not here?”

  “He’s here,” Luther snarls. “Now quiet.”

  I snap my mouth shut as Cole enters the house, locking the door behind him and pulling across the sheer curtain. “The boy’s no longer glued to your side?” he asks, his attention raking over the boy, then me, to rest on his father.

  “We heard you’re leaving.” Luther shrugs. “I guess he wants to make the most of the moments you have together.”

  Leaving?

  I scramble to understand what must have happened yesterday to cause their sudden departure. They were meant to be talking business. Discussing a partnership.

  My outburst couldn’t have caused the dissolution of their plans, could it? Surely my mindless rebellion didn’t instigate an avalanche. If so, this stab-and-sedate attack won’t absolve the mess I’ve made.

  This punishment isn’t enough.

  Luther will want more from me. He’ll want everything.

  I clutch my hands in my lap, digging my nails into my palms in an attempt to lessen the instinct screaming at me to fight to the death.

  It isn’t until my target walks from the hall to take a few steps into the room, his chin high, his intense eyes finding mine, that the noise in my head lessens.

  For the briefest second, hope flickers to life.

  Painful, delusional hope.

  I clench my teeth against the traitorous response as Luca glances away, disregarding me in an instant.

  From bliss to devastation in seconds.

  Stupidity to reality.

  “What’s going on?” He flicks his attention to Cole. There’s no panic or apprehension. He’s entirely mellow. At least on the surface.

  “I’m not sure yet. But apparently, my father comes in peace,” Cole drawls. “Is my little fox still sleeping?”

  “She’s back to the same tricks as she was on her first night here.”

  I sit straighter, trying to hear what isn’t being said.

  They’re talking about a woman. Their own captive.

  I hold in a snarl, my previous optimism entirely snuffed by disgust.

  I knew I was right not to believe a word Luca said to me yesterday. I knew and yet the smallest part of me is still surprised to learn of his depravity.

  They continue talking about her while anger coils itself around me, empowering me, making me greedy for my opportunity to strike. This man, with his laid-back air and unconcerned tone, couldn’t give a shit about a woman held against her will.

  He’s just another monster, hiding his true colors behind a handsome face.

  “Go check on her,” Luther encourages Cole from my side. “By Amar’s account, she took quite a beating yesterday. She probably shouldn’t be left alone.”

  They beat her?

  My fury increases, my train of thought pinpointing on my upcoming task. I read my opponent as they continue to talk. Luca stands tall, his attention sweeping the room, settling on Cole, Luther, Tobias, and finally me.

  Those penetrating eyes narrow. His shoulders tense.

  I mimic his posture, sitting a little straighter on the armrest. But I don’t narrow my stare. Instead, I soften it.

  I preempt Luther’s promise to give me an opportunity to get within reach of this slimy devil. I act as if I’m not driven by retaliation. That I’ve learned my lesson from yesterday’s outburst and I’m now a docile puppet who lives to please.

  “I’m handing Penny over as a symbol of my apology.” Luther’s words break my focus. “Why don’t you take her to one of the bedrooms and get her accustomed to a new way of life under my son’s reign?”

  Adrenaline kicks in as Luca glances at his boss with a raised brow. That disgusting tweak to his expression is a clear inquiry for permission. A filthy request to defile me.

  “Go.” Cole waves him away. “Enjoy yourself.”

  Luca doesn’t move. He remains immobile, his expression still questioning.

  “Go,” Cole barks. “Teach her what she needs to know.”

  The taste of approaching revenge makes my heart happy despite its panicked beats. I’m going to make this asshole pay for his sins. I’ll inject him with this sedative and hand him over to the devil to play with.

  Then he can see what it’s like to be a victim.

  “Remember what will happen if you don’t behave.” Luther slaps me on the ass and I jolt from the impact. “Now make me proud.”

  “Of course.” I let the words roll off my tongue as I maneuver around the coffee table and into open space to wait for Luca to join me.

  He’s the one who looks at me with skepticism this time, his hazel eyes wary for brief moments before he leads me into the hall.

  The first step away from prying eyes isn’t a relief. The solitude with this bulky predator is daunting but I’m determined. Focused. I’ll earn my way back into Luther’s good graces.

  I won’t fail.

  “Take the last door on the right.” He slows his approach, making me take the lead.

  There’s no excitement in his tone. I’m surprised he’s not salivating at the opportunity to violate me. Usually, men get a sly swing in their step when they know their perverted fantasies are about to be fulfilled. They act differently. There’s an edge to them.

  But not this man. He isn’t showing an ounce of enthusiasm.

  His bliss is tightly bottled.

  As we pass exquisite artwork hung along the walls and the long line of lights in the ceiling, he remains closed off. It isn’t until I reach the door and push it wide that he dares to touch me, his arm brushing my shoulder as he reaches inside to flick on the light.

  It takes all my restraint not to bristle. Externally, anyway. On the inside I’m coiled tight, my mind primed and ready for me to strike.

  “I still don’t want to touch you,” he snarls. “Just thought you’d prefer to see.”

  I try to siphon as much information as possible from his actions. I attempt to hear the deceit in his tone, and still I get nothing.

  I can’t grasp his intent.

  I know he has a motive. It’s now common knowledge at least one other slave is here. But I continue to struggle with his faux kindness.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “The light is appreciated.”

  I step inside, my spine tingling as I enter a room consumed with his scent. It reminds me of yesterday. Of his kind, lying eyes. Of his conniving deception.

  When the door clicks shut behind me there’s no stopping my heart climbing into my throat. I can’t help thinking about the consequences of a possible failure, not only from Luther, but this brutal man.

  His hidden motives taunt me. The walls he’s built to hide his true self leave me with no insight of what’s to come if I don’t succeed.

  “What did he do to you?” Luca walks around me, coming to stand like a bulky statue in front of me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “After we left you behind like fucking cowards,” he growls. “What did Luther do to you?”

  I bristle, hating his renewed stance on this friendly facade. The building kindness is unsettling. “My punishment is being handed over to Luther’s son. And to you.”
/>   His eyes narrow, then lower. His attention treks down my body, scouring every inch of me. And still I don’t witness his sexual interest. This man has an uncanny way of hiding his desire.

  “You don’t seem scared.” His gaze slowly returns to mine. “Does that mean you’re open to trusting me?”

  “Of course.” My response slips out too fast, the hint of sarcasm not helping my cause. He needs to think I’m his to break. A toy. A puppet.

  He sighs. “I’m not going to hurt you, Penny. You can stay as far away from me as you want, but we need to talk.”

  No. There’s no room for chatter. I don’t want him weaving his manipulation into my brain again.

  “We’re not here to talk.” I shuffle closer, bridging the distance between us so there’s only a breath of space. I look up at him through my lashes and try my best to appear meek. “You heard Luther. I’m a gift.”

  I’m not a viper coiled to attack. I’m an object. A slave.

  Believe me, Satan.

  He stiffens, his jaw twitching a fraction. His eyes narrow, the intensity of his stare making my heart skip a beat.

  I wait for him to comply. To finally steal what’s right in front of him.

  “You’re not a fucking gift,” he snarls. “You’re not a fucking slave. All that is over.”

  A twinge of yearning plucks at my heartstrings before I quickly shut it down.

  “Whatever you say,” I keep my voice meek, testing to see if he prefers weak and vulnerable to my usual strong and combative as I avert my gaze like a true submissive. “I’m yours to command. Just tell me what you need.”

  A growl emanates from his chest, the low rumble inspiring goosebumps along my exposed arms.

  “What I need,” he grates, “is for you to understand that I don’t want to fucking touch you. Not now or in the future. I’m not Luther.”

  No, he’s not.

  I’m well aware he’s an entirely new monster. One with different intricacies and fetishes.

  “I understand.” I keep my head lowered, the tube burning hot against my belly. “You’re not like other men. You’re special.”

  He scoffs. “No, I’m not. I’m just a guy who wants to fucking help you.” He reaches into the back of his jeans and pulls out a cell. “Look.”

  He presses the screen a few times, then holds it up to me. My heart stops as he scrolls through images, picture upon picture of an innocent girl with a dazzling smile.