Saved by His Submissive (25 page)

She felt Josie’s head-to-toe tremor. But the woman spat, stronger than ever, “That’s
not
going to happen.”

Sage looked away, feeling her soul split down the middle. One side yearned to keep riding the rah-rah bandwagon with Josie, refusing to believe that every passing minute dragged them closer to the fate none of them would speak about. The other half screamed at her to get a clue, to wake up and smell the whole kettle of coffee before dumping its scalding truth over her head. Maybe then, the burns would sink in. The pain became part of her again. It was less torture once you got used to it. She had to believe that. She
had
believed that, back in those days when sorrow was normal and hope a luxury. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d left that darkness behind. Surely it couldn’t be that hard to acclimate to it all again.

Who the hell was she kidding?

She closed her eyes, wondering if she could dare remembering Heaven one more time. But there was no way she couldn’t. As soon as the word bloomed in her mind, Garrett did, too.

My heart.
She felt the warmth of his murmur down her neck, and rejoiced in the wings that opened in her heart in answer.

My hero.
She heard the whisper as if she gave it to him once more, and watched those sensual angles of his lips spread into a brilliant smile. His gaze ignited with that blue fire that adored her, desired her, claimed her. Hers. He was forever hers in their warm, wonderful paradise…

Until reality smashed a boot to her backside again.

Her gaze was jolted open to the view of Junior as he lowered his foot, his face fixed in a vicious leer. He maintained his proximity, so his crotch took up at last half her view. “Eat your lunch, slut, or I’ll give your mouth something else to do.”

Before she could help herself, she rolled her eyes. She bought in to that threat less than she believed the twerp would shoot her. The crew had clearly been given orders to keep her, Josie, and Rayna in well-fed, pristine condition for their new overseas owners.

But who had given those orders? The blank behind that question mark remained strangely vacant, though Sage knew it wouldn’t stay that way. King’s stateside partner was definitely on his
A
game, which meant that sooner or later, the slimy shit would slither out from under his rock to flaunt his triumph in orchestrating their recapture. When he did, she’d tell the bastard to find some men for his dirty work, and not the last rejects from the Seattle boy band auditions.

With that thought as encouragement, she dug a toe under the plate in front of her and upended the whole thing at Junior. The guy yelled then used the
f
word in at least four different ways as a slab of roast beef dropped off his crotch, leaving behind a streak of bright yellow as a souvenir.

Josie and Rayna broke into giggles. Their mirth turned to horror when the goon advanced on Sage, swinging his pistol into a wide backhand. Sage clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders, swearing she wouldn’t show this punk even a flinch of fear. She was the Hawk’s woman. Proving it right now became the sole object of her will and desire in her heart.

Nevertheless…this was going to hurt.

With a resounding
thwack,
a hand wrapped around Junior’s wrist. The fingers of that hand were long, elegant, and shaded like coffee with a bunch of cream.

“Temper, temper.”

Like the hand, the intervening voice was smooth yet lethal. The words were spoken with unalterable command—and an accent where street boss collided with jungle dictator.

A whole tub of ice dumped into Sage’s chest. Her heart leapt from the freezing floe and begged her throat for sanctuary. But there would be no refuge from the fear now. No safety. No more hope. The fire Garrett had given her a minute ago was now doused as thoroughly as the memory that had brought it, wiped by the monster in front of them now. A yellowed smile parted his slick lips. Cavalier confidence defined his posture.

“Well, well, well,” the man drawled. “Hello again, bitches.”

No matter how deeply she wanted to pass out or how savagely she wanted to shiver, Sage’s first concern was for Rayna. Her friend saw something extra in King that was always beyond Sage’s scope, like an extra layer of evil only certain people could view. Since the scum sucker made
her
skin feel invaded by maggots, she had no idea what persecution it must be for Rayna. Like the cold predator he was, King picked up on every drop of her terror, and never ceased to exploit it. Sage was certain that was why Rayna got picked for the “special” piercing back in Thailand.

It was why the asshole paced over to her now.

“My pretty kitty.” King cupped her chin with two fingers, using the hold to jerk up her head. “You are as lovely as I remember, Rayna. And I am not the only one who thinks so anymore, am I? Oh, no. I have listened to him talking to you, your big brave soldier boy.” He grinned wider and chuckled. “The glorious Zeke Hayes!” Rayna groaned and tried to wrench her face away, but King held fast. “Ohhh, little Ray-Ray, what is this? Tears for your Zekie? Well, I am not complaining. Those tears are very sexy.” He pulled her closer in order to licked his way up one side of her face. “And delicious.”

Josie’s Quaaludes picked a shitty time to wear off. The woman surged at King, a snarl turning her pixie features into demonic rage. “Leave her alone.”

King pivoted to Junior and grabbed the kid’s pistol. He swiveled the gun so the butt protruded from his fist, right before he slammed it into Jo’s jaw. Sage and Rayna cried out as Josie’s head whipped over and her body curled in pain. But the woman herself didn’t emit a sound. Sage gulped in silent admiration.

King handed the gun back to his minion. “Do not make me regret we invited you to the party, bitch.”

A slew of retorts begged to be let out, regarding the nature of Josie’s “invite” and King’s demented idea of a “party.” Sage pressed them down, more concerned about Josie herself. With a little turn, she was able to get a visual on the woman. Jo’s face was contorted with pain, but she was conscious. She had both her hands wrapped around her middle, straining outward as much as the zip ties would allow. As Sage watched, her own gut somersaulted. She blinked to re-set her objectivity, but when she accessed the woman again, the flip did an encore. Josie’s movement, so fervent and protective, combined with the remembrance of yesterday, when she’d refused all the wine samples…

Oh, hell.

As if Jo could hear that silent outburst, she raised her gaze. A flash of understanding passed between them. Sage returned Josie’s desperate stare by looking to her belly and back up to her eyes, giving her a steady nod of promise. She’d do everything in her power to keep Garrett’s unborn cousin safe.

“King.”

She barked it at the asshole like an order. Though Junior’s stare widened with shock, King rotated toward her with an expression of  mild amusement. It wasn’t the first time she’d dared to speak to him like this. It also wasn’t the first time she expected to pay the consequences. She just prayed the penalty would be fast and brutal, not one of King’s leisurely mental torments. The bastard knew her weaknesses as thoroughly as he knew Rayna’s, which meant that when he really wanted to inflict damage, he bypassed the needles and the pistol whippings in favor of drilling a straight into her psyche. And damn it, King’s gaze glittered with the eager excitement that he was ready to do just that.

“My darling Sage.” He loomed over her, reaching to stroke the top of her head. “I have so missed our little discussions. What do you wish to talk about today? The weather? The yummy wine you drank yesterday?” His hand stilled. “The fact that your fiancé will likely kill himself searching for you?”

Sage jerked her head away. Well, tried. King had anticipated the move, and still gripped enough of her hair that her action tore a small chunk out of her scalp. A pained snarl ripped free but she clamped it short. “Actually, I’m wondering how your ass is feeling, buddy.”

His snicker punched the air over her head. “Oh? And why is that?”

She smirked. “Couldn’t have been comfortable, buying your freedom by letting every prison guard in Bangkok screw you twice.”

To her bewilderment, King didn’t tear out more of her hair. He actually stepped away as his body rocked back on a chortle. “Ah ha! I understand now!”

Sage glared up through her hair. “That you’re a cock-loving coward who can’t make a living at anything but selling people?”

The delighted expression never left King’s face. He cocked his head playfully at her. “Ohhh, you really are in the dark, my sweet.” He clucked his tongue. “Poor little women. Your soldier boys certainly like keeping secrets, don’t they?”

Sage’s gaze flew to Rayna before she could stop it. Her friend’s face was covered in confusion, and she was certain she returned the mirror treatment on that.

She lashed her stare back to King. “What the hell are you talking about?”

King rocked on his heels like a kid who held all the candy. “I hate to smash your fantasy about my ass in a Bangkok jail…” He touched a finger to his chin. “Well, maybe I don’t.”

Sage scowled. “What?”

“They still call it extradition here, do they not?”

She felt her forehead scrunch harder. “You were extradited to the States? You were extradited
here
?”

“Mmmm…in a sense, yes.”

“Oh, for the love of—yes or no, King?”

He preceded his reply with that maddening chuckle again. “To your government and to your sweet soldier boys, the answer to that would be yes.”

Sage supplied the conclusion he never gave. “But…?”

King straightened his gaze. A strange benevolence entered his regard of her, almost a gentle pity. It terrified Sage more than any look the man had ever wielded. She pressed herself deeper into the pillows as he went on, “Lord Byron said it best, I believe. ‘Happiness was born a twin.’ And you know, my sweets, that happiness is doubled when the hospital misfiles a twin’s birth certificate. Do you know what happens then? You get to grow up as one person. You only have to attend half the school, deal with half the beatings of your drunk mother, half the murder attempts from the crack addict who calls himself your stepfather.” The moment of compassion passed. The man’s face twisted back into its sadistic leer. “And yet, you can get into twice the trouble, and make twice the money from it.”

Sage didn’t cower in the pillows for long. Her spine straightened as blocks of comprehension stacked up her spine. Every one of them was made of a special concrete called horror. “Are you…saying…”

His lips twitched. “Come on, come on. You almost have it, don’t you?”

She was too amazed to bother with getting riled. “Are you saying that you have an identical twin…and
he’s
now sitting in prison instead of you?”

King shrugged with such ease, he earned an approving grin from Junior. “It was my turn for the detention spa last time. Besides, Mua knows that his little vacation will be over in…” – he glanced at his watch – “about twelve hours.” He swept his smile back across the bed. “Until then, my special bitches, we have a busy afternoon ahead. Are you ready for your fun?”

Josie lifted her head. Her jaw looked like a face painting job splashed in rain, dark reds and fuchsias smeared across her skin. “Sorry. I don’t think my bruises match my cruise wardrobe.”

King walked over and pushed a couple of fingers into the darkest part of the woman’s injury. When Josie whimpered, he smiled. “The colors are quite lovely, my dear. I am certain we shall find something nice for you to wear with them. And do not worry your pretty head about appropriate cruise wear. We shall be on land for your festivities this evening.”

From the corner of her eye, Sage caught Rayna’s head jerking back up. She copied the move. “What do you mean?”

King gave them a silken smile. “You, my sweetlingss, have caught the eye of some domestic buyers. They are in town tonight, and have cleared their schedules for a sampling party.” He spread his hands, nearly celebratory about it. “It is exciting, yes? My more extreme clientele are usually the kind who enjoy the feel and taste of foreign pussy for their romps, but these collectors are more interested in domestic fare. Their timing could not be more perfect.”

Sage got off a snarky glower. “Because you’ve got a bad boys leather party on the calendar for tomorrow night?”

King shook his head and chuckled. “Because your sweet soldier boys will be on planes bound for Bangkok tonight, rattling their swords and screaming about saving you, though all the while, you are disappearing from right under their feet.” He laughed again, but the expression faded as he issued his next words. “You know what they say about karma, bitches. And now your oh-so-special soldiers will reap everything they have sown of it with the King.”

The bastard finished that off by turning his back on them. Rayna and Josie joined Sage in her glowering silence, but she could feel their silent, terrified, helpless screams as loud as the din in her own soul. The only relief for the torment was fantasizing that her palms could shoot fire, and she incinerated the monster before he took another step. Certainly before he called back his parting instruction to Junior.

“The stylists will be here to prep them soon. Cut those clothes off all three of them. Make sure that they shower.”

If King threw a winning lottery ticket back down the stairs, the kid wouldn’t have grinned wider. “Yes, sir!” As soon as King closed the hatch, Junior leaned over and yanked out a dagger that was strapped to his calf. He grinned wide as he paced straight to Sage. “Might as well start with my favorite slut.”

As the kid started slashing apart her clothes, Josie gave her fingers a squeeze. “Stay strong. We’re right here with you, Sage. We’re right here.”

Sage jammed her eyes shut, struggling to hold back the reply she longed to blurt at the woman.

But why can’t I be anywhere but here?

* * * * *

The question refused to leave her mind. Like a sloppy-drunk party guest who kept hitting the replay button on a bad breakup song, the words were a reminder of where she really was, of the tunnel into which her life was headed. Even after she’d seen her clothes in a torn puddle on the floor, even after the stylists had coated her in makeup then pushed her into a corset and panties, even after she’d been piled into a limousine with Josie, Rayna, and three bodyguards, the words echoed in a haunting refrain.