Missing Link (The Finders Book 1) (7 page)

Allie didn't look surprised or shocked by any of the confessions I had just thrown at her. Either she knew more than she was letting on, or the whole abusive boyfriend thing is a familiar subject for her. I tensed when she suddenly threw her arms around my shoulders and squeezed tightly.

"Hold on to that, babe." She whispered close to my ear, “because one day you will have to make a choice about what you want, and I hope like hell it's the right one."

I stood there, still and confused as she packed the rest of her things and gave me another bright smile before walking out. I heard the front door open and close and dropped, suddenly exhausted, back onto the couch. I wasn't sure what just happened, but my body felt a little lighter.

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It was late at night as I sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, Elise has made me some amazing pasta dish that I was promptly stuffing into my mouth ever so unladylike. It was so delicious, covered in cheese, pasta cooked to perfection, tiny bits of bacon scattered through like little surprises for your taste buds. I envied this woman's cooking skills. It was something I had never been very good at. If it came in a packet, or was microwaveable I was good to go, but anything that consisted of adding more than 3 or 4 ingredients and included words like simmer, glaze or blanche and I was done for. Unfortunately my Mother never passed her cooking genes on to me. She was a great cook, able to whip up a 3 course meal with the most basic of ingredients. I stopped filling my mouth with food, taking a moment to think about my Mum. Charlie hadn't allowed me to have any pictures of my family.

It was hard but I made sure to always take time to work through my mind and pull out memories where I could see my Mum and Devon clearly and once again memorise their faces. Devon’s soft green eyes and cheeky smile, and my Mums beautiful heart shaped face with the auburn hair that framed it perfectly. Her smile was perfect, her lips bowed to create the most kind and caring smile I could ever imagine. My Mother loved by father, had for more than 6 years before they got married and had me. I saw pictures of a father who hugged me, kissed my skinned knees and worshiped my Mother like she was a princess. I shook my head quickly, wishing for these new memories to disappear. As far as I was concerned the Father I had known died three years ago, right alongside my freedom.

I raised a spoonful of pasta to my mouth, savouring every little bit of flavour as I chewed. I sighed, the food settling comfortably in my stomach. The door to the kitchen banged open without warning and I jumped in surprise, sending my spoon clattering back into the bowl and throwing the pasta out over the sides. I grabbed hold of the bench to steady myself on the stool before looking over my shoulder to find a frowning Charlie. He looked different; his face was unshaven, which was nearly unheard of for him, his usually perfectly styled hair was also slightly dishevelled. But it was the look in his eyes that had my heart beating out of my chest. His eyes were wide and wild, glimmering with an emotion that I couldn't read.

"Ch..Charlie? I wasn't expecting you back for..." I started,

"Quiet." He ordered sternly, moving towards me. He eyed the spilled pasta on the bench.

"I..I'm sorry, you startled me." It wasn't often that I lost my composure around him, but it also wasn't very often I felt the same intensity from him that I felt right now. The room felt like it was following him as he closed in on me, slowly squeezing the breath from my lungs.

"I said QUIET, Samantha." He scolded as he came to stand beside my seat. I was taller on this stool than I would have usually been, but I still had to look up as he towered menacingly over me. He thrust his hand into my hair and gripped tightly, wrenching my head so far back I was no longer able to look at him but could only see the ceiling. "When will you learn to do as you are told? You have been here for long enough that you should know your place!"

I didn't have words. My mouth hung open slightly as I was shocked by this sudden outburst. I was confused and scared, my heart was racing, my breaths short. He tightened his hold causing a small whimper to escape my mouth. My hand automatically reached back and covered his, trying to pull at his vice grip as I could feel strands of hair being torn from my scalp.

Without warning he threw me forward, my forehead colliding with the hard marble bench. I felt momentarily dazed, a sharp pain shooting through the front of my head and jolting down my spine. I groaned as Charlie released his hold and I rolled my head to the side. It felt like it was full of lead, so heavy I was unable to lift it up off the cold hard surface. I pried my eyes open, my vision was blurry and I felt like I was going to throw up. I gripped tightly the edge of the counter, trying to keep myself on the stool and not fall flat on the floor. My eyes focused on Charlie's blurred figure as he stood a couple of feet from me, unmoving. As my eyes began to focus again I saw the angry look in his eyes. After Charlie hits me, I often find he feels compassionate and maybe even slightly guilty afterwards, but this was all new. He actually looked angrier.

"Is everything..." I heard Teddy’s voice, but couldn't turn to look at him as I continued to rest my pounding head. Charlie continued to stare at me. His eyes staying focused on mine. Glaring through me. His posture was like a statue, his fists, one now containing a large amount of my hair, clenched tightly at his side. I felt tears well in my eyes

"Sam?!" I felt a light touch on the back on my head, “what happened?"

The room was silent and stagnant. Charlie finally blinked and it was as though that cleared his angerfilled daze. I felt a tear slip from my eye just as he turned to walk from the room.

"Clean up this mess, and then I'll expect you in my office." He said, no emotion seeping through his voice.

"She needs to see a doctor." Teddy protested, but he was quickly shot down by a death glare.

"My office.  15 minutes. “He shoved open the double doors that led to the dining room and walked through before they swung back closed with a loud bang. Teddy tucked his hands under my armpits and gently pulled me into a sitting position. The room spun and I clutched to his large biceps, feeling as though I might sway and fall at any moment. I noticed a figure standing behind Teddy move around the bench and start clearing away the mess I had made of my food.

"It's okay." I said, finally able to make out that it was Jet, mainly because of the dark glasses as opposed to being able to actually see his face. "I’ll do it...”

I tried to stand, but once again the room turned on end and Teddy had to catch me before I landed painfully on my bum on the tile floor. I groaned loudly, holding one hand up to my forehead. There was already a slightly raised bump there and god did it hurt. After a few minutes I managed to regain my composure and could stand on my own.

"What was all that about?" Teddy enquired as he brushed my hair to the side and examined my head.

"I don't know. Why is he back early?" I looked over to Jet who had cleaned away the dishes and wiped down the bench. He shrugged, but I could see his brow creased just above his glasses. I shook the fuzziness from my head.

"I better go and see what he wants." I said quietly, moving towards the door.

"I'll come with you..." Teddy began as he moved to my side, but I touched his arm lightly.

"No. It will only make it worse." I pleaded with my eyes for him to leave it, but I could see the frustration on his face. "I'll be fine. Nothing I haven't dealt with before." I told him, trying to force a smile. I walked out into the foyer and down the short corridor before he could object and knocked quietly on Charlie's door.

"Come in." I heard him say gruffly from the other side. I pushed the door open, trying to hold my head high, but the pounding was increasing with every step, it felt as though my head would burst. Charlie sat at his large desk, his palms flat against it and his head hung low.

"Charlie, I'm..." He held up his hand, silencing me.

"It's me that needs to apologise." My breath caught in my throat, this was the first time Charlie had ever expressed in any way that he was in the wrong. He gestured to the large arm chair that sat opposite his desk and I moved quietly forward, thankful for being able to rest and keeping my eyes down. As I sat he stood and moved around to stand in front of me.

"Look at me, Samantha." Pain still coursing through my head and neck, I forced myself to look up at him. When our eyes met I almost gasped as I could see the twinkle of tears covering his usually dark and unforgiving orbs.

"I am sorry. I let myself be overcome with stress and unfortunately I regret that I have taken it out on you." My mouth hung open slightly, shock clouding my brain. He crouched down in front of me and took my hands in his. "I'm afraid you will never know how much I care for you, how much I want you to be by my side. I know your apprehensions about being here. That you feel like I am holding you against your will, but I know that someday you will see I have done it for your own protection and you will love me." I was confused and I was angry. He was holding me here for my own protection? What could he possibly be protecting me from?

"One day you will understand."

"Why won't you just let me go?" I whispered the words before I even thought about it. He squeezed my hands a little too tightly and I tried to pull them away.

"Your Father." I flinched back, but he only held me tighter. "Your Father made a lot of enemies, more than you will know. But while you are here with me, I can keep you safe."

A thousand thoughts shot through my mind. He was keeping me here so I would be safe? My gut told me there was more to this story than he was saying.

"There are other ways for me to be safe. If other people are after me, the Police, they could..."

"NO." He bellowed, finally releasing me and taking a step back to lean against his desk. "You are mine. I will look after you."

My head hung, once again I was back to being his possession. All this new information was flooding in but I just couldn't seem to make sense of any of it. I briefly remember Charlie guiding me up the stairs and down the hall to his room before stripping me and crawling into bed next to me. I had been tired before but now I could barely hold my eyes open. I prayed it was from exhaustion and not from a concussion as Charlie hadn't ordered a doctor to come check me out. For all I knew, I was about to slip into some sort of coma, never to wake up, but would that really be that bad?

Charlie wrapped his arms around me tightly, his naked body pushed against mine. But he made no moves other than to hold me. I wondered if Charlie really did care about me like he said, whether he treated me like this simply because he thought he was doing what was best for me. It was a hard pill to swallow but for once I had to consider there were others out there who would love to get their hands on me and punish me for my Father's mistakes, I had to consider whether staying with Charlie was really the best thing for me.

Chapter Eight

I searched the kitchen cupboards for any sign of some sort of pain relief. Charlie didn’t keep it around often, telling me that the pain was a reminder that I had been defiant. I groaned and pressed my fingers to either side of my temples and pushed hard as another throb started. There was a small bump on my forehead but thankfully my hair was styled in a way that covered it. With the kitchen doors open I could hear Charlie’s raised voice echo down the hallway, he was not very happy.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I slowly crept towards his office door which was slightly ajar. I made sure to stay close enough to the kitchen so I could slip back in quickly if someone came.

“She’s mine, Luther! She has been with me for over 3 years. I am keeping her!” I was confused by his words, wishing I could hear the other end of the conversation to make some sense of what he was talking about.

“Yes, I realise she has a lot of work to be done.” There was a pause. “And why would I let you do that? She would most likely come back in a body bag if I let you train her.”

Oh dear god no. Please don’t send me to that monster. My breathing increase and I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from running into his office and yelling and pleading for him not to do it.

Charlie sighed loudly, “Fine, a month. But if she comes back with more than a few bruises, you and I are going to have problems.”

I shook my head back and forth, not believing what I was hearing. I tiptoed quickly back into the kitchen, bracing myself on the kitchen bench and trying to take deep breathes. I had seen and heard what Luther had done to Isla. She was weak, broken down and complacent with what her life had become. But me, I still had fight in me, I still had dreams of escaping. What Luther would do to try and break me was anybody’s guess, but I knew it would not be pretty and there was a chance I would not survive it.

Maybe Isla had been right. They were training us. All the aggression, him telling me I needed to do what I was told, the beatings. He wouldn't sell me until I was trained not to fight for myself. These men, they were our trainers. They were meant to break our spirits and beat the defiance out of us until we were a small ball of compliance. Perfect to sell on the black market to be used as slaves or prostitutes.

"Samantha!" He called me from his office. I walked on shakey legs, trying to steady myself, straighten my back like I'm not scared. I cleared my throat as I entered the office.

"Yes, Charlie?" I said smiling politely. He grinned at me, he was pleased.

"I need to go away for the night to the city. But when I get back in the morning we are going to spend some more time together. Maybe go on a little trip." I nodded.

"I would love that." I said smiling. He moved towards me, grabbing me roughly and forcing his lips onto mine. His tongue invaded my mouth. It was hard, demanding and not at all passionate. I gripped his waist with my hands, which only encouraged him, forcing me onto my back on his desk. He kissed down my cheek and neck ripping my blouse open and freeing my breasts from my bra. With Rough hands he groped at them like a horny teenage boy, it wasn't sexy. It didn't turn me on. My body often reacted in ways that he mistook as pleasure. I shuddered under his hands but not because I loved his touch, but because it disgusted me.