Jordan's Redemption: Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance book (The Generals' Sons 2) (4 page)

Chapter 7

Ashley was about to go insane. She had nothing to distract her mind inside those four walls, and she wasn’t able to stop it from replaying that fatidical day in her mind over and over again, trying to understand how things could have gone so wrong. At some point she almost wished she hadn’t been able to escape Hernandez. She was sure that it couldn’t be worse than the living hell she was in.

Hours later the door to her cell opened up and Wilson came in, carrying a tray. Her whole body shuddered when she saw him and not Jordan coming in, and she quickly sat up.

"Eat, and don’t try anything funny, although I would love to give you a well-deserved lesson." He threatened her, handing her the tray.

She started eating in silence, wishing he would leave her alone, but knowing he wouldn’t waste a chance to make her life even more miserable than it already was.

She ate as fast as she could, forcing herself to eat it all, not wanting to give him an excuse to hurt her. She had had enough bad experiences with him. When she was done, she handed him back the tray.

"You know, you could help yourself if you would tell me how to contact the taxi driver that drove you away from here." He said, in a cold tone.

"What?" she spurted, furious. "Why the hell do you want to contact the poor man? He has nothing to do with this story, it was just a taxi that was going past the house that I stopped, nothing more. Just leave him alone."

"You see, that's hard to believe. Why would you go through all the trouble of staging a fake phone call if you didn’t have a quick way to escape the house? That, puta, doesn’t make any sense."

"Really? Did you discern that by yourself? Or did someone help you?" her tone oozed scorn.

He raised his free hand and almost slapped her again, his hand stopping only an inch from her face. "Don’t tempt me, puta."

Shivering, she faced him, probably as furious as he was. "I have no interest in tempting you, señor Wilson. Just leave me alone."

He snorted and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Ashley could only pray they would never find the taxi driver. Who knows what they would do to him if they thought he was her accomplice. The last thing she wanted was to carry someone else's death on her conscious.

She changed her course of thought immediately. She wasn’t ready to think of her mother, so she laid down again and closed her eyes, trying to block out all that horror from her mind.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, the door to her cell was being opened again by Wilson and he brought her dinner.

This time, he gave her the tray and left the room. She ate the food, listlessly, the food tasting like cardboard in her mouth. How long would he keep her there, this way? She would go mad with nothing to do but stare at the walls.

A few minutes later, Wilson returned and picked up the tray without saying a word to her.

Tired of being in bed, she started to pace around the tiny cell, wondering if Jordan would come back to visit her that night.

Of course, she didn’t want that. She would rather not see him ever again in her life. He was nothing more than a criminal, a murderer and she wanted nothing to do with him.

But even though those words ran through her mind, her heart kept calling her a liar. She had to be experiencing some sort of Stockholm syndrome, that was the only explanation. It had to be.

A few hours later, she came to the conclusion he wasn’t returning that day, and after using the toilet, she went to bed.

She was almost asleep when the door to the cell opened up violently, crushing against the wall with a thunderous sound. Startled, she jumped out of bed, just to see Jordan at the door. He crossed the room in a couple of strides and grabbed her by her wrist. "Walk!" He snarled at her, dragging her out of the cell.

Ashley didn’t even try to stop him. He was in a very bad mood and the last thing she wanted was to provoke him. To her surprise, he took her to his bedroom and pushed her on the bed, lying immediately over her, his body covering hers completely. When he brought his face next to hers, she was able to smell the alcohol on his breath and that surprised her. He didn’t drink much usually.

"I'm going to use you, slut, over and over again, do you hear me? I'm going to use you so many times I'll be sick of you." He mumbled in her ear as he trashed her dress and exposed her naked body to his lustful eyes.

He pushed her legs open as he unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock of its imprisonment, just seconds before he shoved himself inside her, just like that, a raw possession planned to humiliate, to make her feel what he had turned her into, a fucking toy.

He pinned her hands over her head with one of his hands as the other one kneaded and squeezed her breasts while his cock kept pounding in and out of her.

His violence and rawness should have killed any possible desire inside her, his touch should have left her as cold as ice… yes… it should… but the spell he accused her of also affected her, and soon her body was also on fire, her hips rocked to meet each one of his thrusts and when his body fell under the power of his orgasm, hers fell right behind him.

He fell over her, his body crushing hers against the mattress, the only sounds in the room were those of their hard breaths trying to go back to normal.

A few minutes later he rolled over in bed and got up. He walked around to her side of the bed and pulled her over to the headboard. Puzzled, she looked at him, trying to figure out what were his plans, when she realized what he was doing: wrapping a leather cuff attached to the headboard, around her wrist. He was tying her to his bed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she cried out, furious.

"Shut up, or I'll shove a nice gag into your mouth. You're staying here, I am tired of going downstairs each time I feel like fucking you." He snarled at her, his mood probably darker than it was when he picked her up from the cell.

"Is this really necessary?" she pulled on her restraint.

"Yes, now just get some sleep. You'll need the energy." He disappeared into the bathroom and she tried to release her wrist from the cuff but it was impossible. It was locked with a padlock, and of course, he had the key to it.

She lay in bed looking at the ceiling, trying to understand why he had brought her up to his room, but she was unable to come to a logical conclusion.

He returned to the room carrying a small wet towel in his hand. "This will do for now. You'll be allowed to shower in the morning." He said, opening her legs.

She closed them instinctively, but he forced her to open up and stay open as he cleaned her pussy, wiping away the cum that had oozed out of her. She felt the blush covering her face, as she looked away. Why was he doing this?

He finished his job and threw the towel over the bathroom's open door, before he turned off the lights and lay beside her, on the bed. It didn’t take much time for her to hear his slight snoring, indicating he had fallen asleep.

Furious, she pulled on her cuff once more, before giving up and trying to get some sleep. According to his own words, she would be needing it.

Incredibly, she closed her eyes and fell asleep immediately, as if her body had recognized its place.

Jordan felt her body relax and fall asleep. After a couple of hours rolling in bed, he had given up and had gone to his office to pour himself a drink. Soon he had drunk half a bottle and his mood was darker than ever. At some point, he gave up pretending and throwing the glass against the wall, he went to pick her up. He needed her with him in bed.

Now, that she was there, sleeping beside him, he could finally close his eyes and sleep.

When the sun finally came up, it found him cuddled up against her warm body, one of his legs crossed over hers and one of his arms wrapped around her belly. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, and each time he inhaled, his nostrils were flooded with her unique scent.

His cock was already hard, and his arousal levels were reaching for the sky, when he opened his eyes and saw her in his arms, still sleeping.

He pulled her closer to his chest, as his cock poked her buttocks, and he cupped her breasts in his hands. It felt so good waking up with her in his arms.

He nuzzled her and she moaned, waking up. He made her lay on her back and climbed over her, spreading her legs with his knees.

She opened her eyes and for a moment, she smiled when she saw him on top of her. Just one ephemeral moment, before consciousness hit her like a ton of rocks and she frowned.

Jordan observed the changes in her expression and cursed fate for making things so hard, so damn difficult. Enraged, he threw those feelings to the back of his mind and buried his face in the crook of her neck, nibbling and kissing her neck and her shoulder.

A few moments later, he went down her chest, reaching her hard nipples, where hands and mouth relished, kissing and kneading, squeezing and sucking, caressing and licking, drawing moans and whimpers from her gritted teeth, making her whole body quiver under his touch. 

The kisses and caresses trailed down her belly to reach her throbbing clit and her drenched pussy. He spent a few minutes there, stimulating her, making waves of pleasure go through her with every touch and every kiss. Soon, he was pushing himself deep inside her, in and out in a fast and hard pace that thrust them into the turmoil of a powerful orgasm that left them both shuddering and panting hard.

When the world stopped spinning, he got up and released her wrist from the cuff, helping her out of bed. "Shower time." He announced, taking her to the bathroom and leaving her there. "You have ten minutes."

This time, he didn’t leave the bathroom, he simply grabbed his things and started shaving his beard, taking away her privacy, but surely he would reply that fuck toys didn’t need privacy.

She entered the shower stall and let the warm water run down her body for a few moments before starting to wash, wishing she could wash away the past couple of days, erased them from time, from her life.

When she was done, she steps out of the stall realizing he wasn’t there anymore, so she took one of the towels and dried her body, wondering if he intended to keep her in his bedroom or if he would take her back to her cell.

She had her answer as soon as she returned to the bedroom. He was there waiting for her, with another dress in his hands for her to wear. Still, with no underwear.

"Put this on, it's time to take you back to your cell." He ordered her.

She grabbed the dress and put it on immediately. "Please, can I have something to read? I'm going insane inside those four walls." She asked, her head leaning down.

"That's your problem, not mine. Let's go now, I don’t have all day." He rejected her request and she considered protesting, but she knew it would be useless. He wanted to make her suffer.

He almost dragged her downstairs and into the cell. When he locked the door behind her back, she had to make a huge effort to keep the tears at bay.

Days went by with little news. Every night he would get her out of her cell and cuff her to his bed, making her available for his use and every morning he would take her back to the damn cell, with Wilson as her nanny, bringing her meals. He never did anything to ease her loneliness and by then she didn’t expect it. He was punishing her, and that was his way of doing so. What infuriated her more was the fact she didn’t deserve this punishment, that she had been trying to go back to him, after risking her life to escape the bastards that had abducted her. She was never capable of thinking about the other part of his punishment. Every time she remembered her mother, her brain simply shut down and she started thinking of something else. She simply couldn’t face the fact that her mother was dead, that he had actually ordered her death. She couldn’t. She understood she was in denial, and maybe she would die still in denial.

She was living one day at a time, refusing to analyze her life and the things happening to her: the empty days spent staring at her cell's walls and the nights filled with overwhelming passion, moans and whimpers of pure pleasure, and with moments where she felt so close to him, a part of him and he a part of her. It was simply maddening, and maybe that was the explanation: she had lost her mind.

Chapter 8

A week later, Jordan was in his office, looking at Wilson, sitting in front of him, across his desk. "How hard can it be to find this man?" he ranted.

"It shouldn’t be this hard, I know and I understand your frustration. We're doing all we can, but it's as if he has disappeared from the face of the earth." Wilson explained, twisting his hands, nervously. Jordan had been extremely edgy lately, and they tried to avoid him as much as they could. Not being able to find the taxi driver didn’t help him.

"What about the stolen drugs?"

"We have a lead on that, boss. We're just waiting for confirmation. It seems the cargo is about to arrive in Honduras and the Marquez have a planned trip there next week. That is what makes us think we're on to something." Wilson explained, relieved he had changed the subject.

"Keep me posted. I want to be there for the bust." He warned.

"Yes, boss, sure thing." Wilson and Garcia were more than happy to be leaving Jordan's office.

In that moment, Jordan's cell phone rang. It was Marcus.

"Marcus, what's up?" he greeted.

"Hi, Jordan. Just checking on things. Do you have any news on the Marquez?" his friend answered.

"It seems we have a strong lead on the drugs whereabouts."

"That's good news. Have you planned how you're going to take them down?"

"Not yet. My mind has been on other things."

"I have the perfect man for you. Professional to the bone, he really knows his business. Maybe you should come by to meet him. I'm sure he would be a great help to you." Marcus suggested.

"That's probably a good idea," Jordan admitted. Then he remembered Ashley and his ever growing obsession over her. "Besides, I need to get rid of a woman. Do you think you can get someone interested?" The words felt terrible in his mouth but he had made up his mind, he needed to take her out of his life, urgently, no matter what the cost.

Marcus chuckled. "There's always someone interested, you know that."

"Good, we'll be on our way tomorrow."

"Perfect, I'll arrange everything. Do you need a private landing track?"

"Yes, I think it will be better. She won't go willingly."

"They never do, my friend," Marcus replied, with scorn.

"I'll let you know the details tomorrow."

"Very well. I'll be waiting for your call."

Jordan ended the call and sighed heavily. Finally, he had made himself take a step forward into taking Ashley out of his life.

After a very intense night with Jordan, his behavior changed. For the first time in all those days, he didn’t drag her back to her cell. The clothes he was holding in his hands for her to wear were very different from the usual dress: a flared skirt and lovely matching top, as well as underwear and shoes.

"What's this?" she asked, a bit concerned.

"We're going out. Put this on, unless you want me to invite Wilson to help you out." He ordered in a very cold tone.

She snatched the clothes from his hands and put them on, quickly, but his behavior only increased her concern. She combed her hair in a simple braid and turned to look at him.

"Let's go. I don’t want to waste any more time."

She followed him out of the house, grateful for a few seconds of the warmth of the sun on her skin after so many days of confinement. He pushed her roughly inside the SUV, and only moments later they were on their way.

Almost an hour later, to her surprise, they arrived at a small airport outside the capital. "Where are we going?" she asked, suddenly feeling a bit scared.

"That's none of your business. Just let me assure you that if you give me any kind of trouble I'll put you in Wilson's hands and let him teach you a little lesson. Am I clear?" He answered in a tone so cold it sent shivers down her spine, and she didn’t doubt his words. Not this time.

They left the car and entered the airport, heading to his family's private plane, that was already waiting for them. Only minutes later, they were flying away. She wanted to ask him again where they were going, but his expression was so dark she simply didn’t dare. Wilson's presence on the plane didn’t help much either.

After an hour of flight, she was sure they were flying to another country, and somehow that scared her even more. Where was he taking her?

Five long hours later, the plane finally started to prepare for landing. Although she had been looking out of the window the whole time, she hadn’t been able to discern their destiny and she was even more worried.

They landed on a small landing track, one she was sure was used to bring drugs into the country, whichever one it was. On one side of the track, two SUVs waited for them.

Jordan was the first to leave the plane and Ashley followed him with Wilson on her tail. She even thought of making a run for it, but she knew she didn’t stand a chance against all of the men presents.

Four men came out of the cars and joined the arriving party. One of them stood out: tall, dark, tanned, with a broad, muscled body, he oozed power and authority through all of his pores. He was obviously, someone important. He walked straight to meet Jordan.

"Jordan, my man, good to see you again." Both men hugged and slapped each other's back.

"Marcus, thank you for coming to pick us up." Jordan said, still with a dark mood.

"It's my pleasure, man, you know that." He turned to greet Wilson. "Wilson, what's up?"

"All fine, Mr. Perez."

"So, this is the woman?" Marcus asked Jordan, his eyes set on Ashley.

Startled, she looked at Jordan,

"Yes, it is. Now, let's get out of here." Jordan answered, his expression so dark, she shuddered. He grabbed her by her arm and dragged her to one of the cars, almost shoving her inside.

Ashley took a seat in the car and tried to figure out why that man Marcus knew about her and what that could mean for her. She still didn’t have a clue where they were, but she was surely getting more and more worried.

Jordan took a seat next to her and the cars drove off. When they reached the highway, Ashley finally realized where they were: Miami. No wonder they had used that airport. Jordan knew I would take any chance I could to escape him. He had nothing more to hold me back.

They drove for at least one hour until they arrived at a mansion in one of the small towns surrounding Miami. Like Jordan's houses, this one was also heavily guarded.

They hopped out of the cars and entered the house, Jordan's hand wrapped tightly around Ashley's arm. "Marcus, do you have cells in this house?" he asked with a tense tone.

"Sure, like in all my houses. You never know when you'll need one." The other man answered with a mocking smile.

"Good, please take me to one." He asked.

Marcus looked at his friend and at the woman he had a tight grip. "Are you sure that's necessary? There's no way she could escape this house."

"Once, I was fool enough to think that about my house. Believe me, it won't happen again." Jordan explained, through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself. Matheson, please walk my friend downstairs and help him in all he might need." Marcus indicated to one of his men.

"Sure thing, boss." The man showed Jordan the way, as he dragged her downstairs, behind him. When they reached the cells, Jordan dismissed the other man and entered the cell with her.

"Your routine here will be the same as you had back at my house. At least, until I finally get rid of you." He announced, pushing her over the bed.

"What? What are you talking about?" his words sank deep into her heart and she jumped out of the bed.

"I've decided I've had enough of you." His cold words felt like sharp daggers being shoved into her body, all at the same time.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked, her voice too shaky, despite her efforts to control herself.

He grabbed her chin tight between his fingers. "I believe I should at least get something out of this whole thing. After all, you have been more than trouble since the beginning, so I'm selling you, probably to the Russian mafia. They're always looking for fresh meat." He explained with the cruelest smile she had ever seen on his lips.

She pushed his hand off of her with both her hands, her heart pounding hard in her chest. "You're lying. You can't do this to me." She shouted, more scared than she had ever been in her whole life, all the stories she had heard about human traffic passing by her mind.

"Just watch me." He said, turning to leave the room.

He meant it. He really meant it. That's why he had brought her here, and that's why Marcus had asked that question.

She instinctively ran towards him and threw herself at his feet. "Please… I'm begging you… don’t do this. Kill me, let me rot in this cell, but don’t do this."

He pushed her away from him, without even looking at her. "I've made up my mind. I'm sure you'll enjoy your new lifestyle." He left the room and locked it behind him.

Ashley got up and pounded hard on the door, calling out his name, but he didn’t come back.

She stopped banging on the door and let herself fall to the floor, as tears ran down her cheeks. She had always known she would never walk out of this alive, but she had never considered the idea of being sold like a piece of meat.

This couldn’t be right. Simply couldn’t. How could she be so wrong about him? How could she have fallen for a man willing to sell her off to a slaver? She just wanted to die.

She must have fallen asleep on the floor next to the door, exhausted, because it felt like hours later when she opened up her eyes.

Slowly, she got up and looked around, looking for something she might use, but like in the cell back at Caracas, there was nothing. Not even a damn sheet she could use to hang herself because she would rather die a million times than to become a real slave.