Hostage (6 page)

Code

Fuck.

Seriously, I have got to be dumber than fucking shit. With this whole mess I’ve gotten into, I had to go and fuck Wren? I mean, sure, it was a great distraction, but I’ve got to get my brain out of my cock and focus on the big picture here.

Staying alive.

I look at my watch and know that the mall is getting ready to close and, in another fifteen or twenty minutes, I know exactly where to go to get us some food. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Wren straightening her clothes, and damn if I don’t want to fuck her again.

I have to force myself to look away. For all I know this will come back to haunt me, and I’ll get out of this nightmare alive and then have her go crying rape.

So not what I need.

It’s funny, but I’ve never really given a shit about whether I live or die until now. Now all of a sudden I have this incredible desire to live.

I just want to do so on my own terms.

I tried it everyone else’s way and, for a while there, I thought my life was my own, but then Deke and the crew came along and took it all away from me, and I was too damn stupid to realize it. Now I’m in over my head and responsible for not only getting myself out of here alive, but Wren too.

Freedom.
Oh freedom.
There’s that old spiritual again.

At times like this, I’m fucking sure the idea of freedom is just a mass delusion.

Shit.

For at least the tenth time today, I have to wonder if keeping Wren is really the smart thing to do.

She’s only going to slow me down.

For a second, I think about letting her go, but she’s my only leverage. Plus, I know Deke has seen her, and I don’t want to risk her getting hurt because I fucked up. She may not realize or want to admit that I’m actually helping her at this point, but, in a way, I am.

Great time to suddenly develop a conscience, right?

Even though the sex was fucking hot and went a long way in getting me to momentarily relax, I’m back to feeling wound up and antsy. I’m starving and, to be honest, I’m tired.

Like ready-to-drop tired.

I can’t even remember the last time I had a decent night’s sleep that wasn’t alcohol or drug induced.

Or on clean sheets for that matter.

Unable to help myself, I look over at Wren. She looks like she sleeps on clean sheets every night. In ordinary circumstances, someone like her would never fuck a guy like me. Maybe in my previous life, but that’s long gone.

And I can’t look back.

Up above I can hear doors slamming and what little light was coming from the stairwell goes dark. I can hear Wren gasp as we’re plunged into complete darkness. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “In another ten minutes, we’ll be able to get a little bit of light down here.”

“How?” For some reason, her voice sounds very weak, small. Normally I don’t take notice of that shit, but I guess my conscience is working overtime.

“They’re closing up upstairs. Once I can be sure that everyone’s gone, I’ll be able to turn on one of the lights down here, and we can go up and grab some food. You’re hungry, right?” My question comes out a little harsh, and I’m kind of glad I can’t see her face right now. The last thing I need is to look at her and feel like I’ve kicked a puppy.

“How will you know when everyone’s gone?”

I shrug even though she can’t see me. “I used to hang out here a lot. I learned the schedules. I doubt much has changed. I just need you to stay put and don’t move around too much and risk making noise. There’s a security guard who walks the mall all night. If you trip and bang shit around, he’s going to come down here.”

Way to go, asshole. Why don’t you just tell her how to find him so she can turn you in and get away?

I really am a fucking moron.

She’s quiet. Almost too quiet. Now that I’ve completely screwed myself, I need to come up with a way of keeping her here. Keeping her safe. I know that she’s probably thinking the rent-a-cop is going to be her savior, but she’s wrong. If she leaves here before Deke and the crew are caught, she could be in danger.

And I probably will be dead.

Quietly, I move around. I know this place like the back of my hand, and I know exactly what it is that I’m looking for and where to find it. Moving to the far corner, I find that doorway that we were heading toward earlier. There’s a shelving unit there. I feel around for a minute and find the three things I’m going to need.

She’s going to hate me, and I really can’t blame her. But considering I’ve kidnapped her and fucked her, what’s one more crime to add to the list.

I walk back over and put my hand on her shoulder, and she lets out a little scream. My hand immediately goes over her mouth. “I told you to be fucking quiet,” I hiss in her ear.

“Well you scared me. I never heard you move!” The words are out of her mouth as soon as I remove my hand.

“Listen, Princess, we have a problem.”

“What?” I don’t know if it’s fear or defiance or what, but her snappish tone is a far cry from the way she sounded a few minutes ago.

“When I go to get our food, I have to go alone.”

“Okay.”

I laugh bitterly. “There is no fucking way that I’m leaving you down here unattended. Don’t think that I’m not aware that you’ve been sitting here trying to figure out how to make a run for it as soon as I go upstairs.”

“I…I wasn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t know where to go.”

“Liar.” And before she can utter another word, I have the duct tape ripping and over her mouth. She goes to stand up but I shove her back down on the box. “We can do this one of two ways, Princess. I can keep you tied up and that tape over your mouth so that you can’t get away…”

Her head shakes furiously from side to side, and I’m close enough that she’s shoving against me in an attempt to get the tape off her mouth.

“Or we have option number two.” I put my hand by the tape. “I can pull this off right now, but then you’re going to have to strip.”

She instantly grows still.

“Those are your options. Bound and gagged or naked. Either one, it makes no difference to me. But I’m hungry and believe it or not, keeping you down here is keeping you safe. You may think that running is going to save you, but it won’t. Deke won’t rest until he finds us both. Think about it.”

She sags in front of me, her head hitting my shoulders. Personally, if I could have had her bound and gagged
and
naked, I’d be pretty fucking happy. But now is not the time for that.

Food.

Shelter.

Sleep.

“So what’s it going to be, Wren? Are you stripping for me or are we tying you up?”

Slowly, she holds out her wrists to me. I reach up and make sure that the tape on her mouth was still in place.

And feel the tears that stream down her face.

Wren

Stupid, fucking, vicious, heartless asshole.

He must have no heart at all to leave me gagged and bound down here in this pitch-black hellhole by myself. And then he acts like he’s being reasonable and giving me a choice about it.

He’s like those monsters who do inhuman acts of depravity and then try to justify them with twisted logic.

The next time he tries to put his hands on me, I’m going to claw the skin off his face.

My wrists are bound together with the tape, so tightly it’s almost painful, and the piece of tape on my mouth is scratchy and very upsetting. There’s something terrified about being gagged like this. It’s not just the helplessness, either. What if I have to throw up or something? I’d choked on my own vomit because I can’t open my fucking mouth.

Not that fucking Code would think about something like that. I’m just a body to him—a tactical advantage.

Clearly, one round of sex wasn’t enough to soften him at all—either distracting him enough for me to get away or getting him on my side. I’m not going to give up, though. I just need to focus. Think. Plan.

Not get distracted myself by the memory of how good he fucked me a few minutes ago.

 My pussy is still sore and tingling from his cock. I’ve never come so hard before in my life.

Before Code, the only time I really came during sex was one random night with a guy I met in a club a couple of years ago. He was pretty good-looking—one of those charming, slick rich boys—and I went home with him after dancing together most of the evening.

He wanted to tie me up, and I let him. Thinking about it now, I realize how stupid it was. I didn’t know the guy from Adam, but I let him bind me spread-eagle on his bed.

I still remember how it felt. The complete helplessness as I was stretched out, completely naked, unable to move. He played around with my body for a while, teasing my breasts and pussy until I was wet.

Now, remember, I don’t usually get turned on with guys, no matter how much sex I have, so it was an unusual situation for me.

The guy fucked me with his fingers until I came, biting my lip and unable to meet his eyes. Then he untied me, turned me over, and bound me again so he could fuck me from behind.

I didn’t come again with that guy. Code was the first time I’ve ever come from a man’s cock.

But, thinking about it now, I realize there’s something really twisted in me that makes me get turned on only when I’m helpless.

That must explain my reactions to Code. It’s not because of anything intrinsic to him. It’s just that I’m all messed up, and he happens to have hit some of my hot buttons.

I feel better with this realization. Ironically, more in control than I felt before.

It isn’t really Code I’ve been reacting to all this time. It’s just that I’m more helpless with him than I’ve ever been before.

Since my step-father, at least.

Code isn’t anything like he was, though. My step-dad always acted sweet and tender, even when he was raping me. I still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and feel his body behind me, on top of me, hear his soft voice whispering words to me about how I’m his little girl, his angel, his darling,

That’s probably why sweet and tender just doesn’t do it for me now.

I’d rather a guy act like the monster he really is. At least Code isn’t trying to put on an act.

You’re probably thinking I need therapy, but I’ve had plenty of it over the last five years. I’ve talked things out with several different counselors and psychiatrists.

If you’re like me, you don’t want people to know you’re messed up, so you learn the things to say to make them think you’re getting better. I’m perfectly functional in most areas of my life. It’s only sex where I’m all screwed up.

None of that really matters right now. All that matters is surviving this ordeal and getting away from Code.

I don’t know how seriously to take his warnings that I’m in danger from those animals in his old crew. It doesn’t really make sense that they’d waste their time coming after me, even if they find out who I am. I’ve got nothing they want. And it’s not like Code is attached to me so they could use me as leverage to get to him.

He’s probably just trying to scare me. Make me think I’m dependent on him completely so I won’t try to get away.

If I can get away from him, then I can go to the police. They can take me back to my dad. I will be perfectly fine.

Code is the only one I’m really in danger from.

My eyes are adjusting to the darkness a little. I still can’t see anything clearly, but I distinguish between levels of darkness, indicating where the stacked boxes and shelves are in this basement.

Code didn’t bind my feet. Just my wrists behind my back. But I can still move around pretty easily.

Maybe the sex did work a little. Maybe he was distracted enough to not think everything through. Sure, I can’t scream because I’ve got the fucking tape over my mouth, but I can stand up. I can walk. And I can find something sharp enough to cut the bindings off my wrist.

Maybe feeling helpless turns me on, but I’m not completely helpless in this. And I’m not going to let Code bully me into doing nothing.

I stand up on stiff legs and try to walk. I stumble a little, since my legs don’t feel used to moving, and I’m sore from being fucked so hard earlier. But after a few seconds I can walk better, and I kind of feel my way around in the dark.

There’s not likely to be any convenient knives or scissors hanging around here for me to find, but maybe I can find some sort of sharp edge.

I stumble my way past a bunch of boxes to the wall of metal shelves I remember seeing. There, I feel around in the dark, searching for something with a sharp edge.

There’s not really much except more boxes, so I feel around on the shelf itself. After several minutes, I find an edge of metal on a shelf at thigh level that’s not perfectly smooth. It’s hardly what I would call sharp, but tape can be cut pretty easily.

So I crouch down enough to rub the tape on my wrists against the metal edge.

I accidently scrape my skin against the edge, but nothing much happens to the tape. I rub even harder, praying that it will start to break.

If only he hadn’t wrapped the tape around my wrists so many times. It’s really thick.

But I’m not going to just sit around and wait for Code to come back. I’m going to get out of here.

Code might think I’m a helpless girl, but I’m not.