Keep (Command #2) (20 page)

“God, you’re beautiful.” Juric said it like it was unexpected. He used his free hand to grab the chain of the handcuffs and pull her close to him, keeping a tight hold on it. “Would you like to get dressed?” He dragged the knife lightly down her collarbone, down between her breasts, to below her bra. “All you have to do is follow my command.”

Her heart slammed into her chest, and it was so loud she wondered if he could hear it. It didn’t matter. She pushed everything she felt to the side except for her anger and leaned forward so her face was by his ear.

“Go to hell.”

Disappointment washed over his face. “You don’t breathe unless I say so. If you disobey, you’ll be punished,” he said. “Now take a breath and hold it.”

She started to laugh, but the sharp side of the blade pressed up against the flesh covering her ribs, quickly making her serious.

“Don’t say no to me. Hold your breath.”

There was no other answer. “No.”

He cut her. She silenced the scream and maintained an iron grip on her control. She would not give any to him. He looked stunned that there was hardly a reaction from her, and scrambled to regroup.

“I don’t want to, but I’ll cut you deeper next time. Don’t make me do this. What I’m asking you to do is not hard.”

Was his hand shaking?

He focused intently on her and the ebb and flow of her breathing. She took a deep breath and then exhaled in his face, making a show out of her defiance. He stayed true to his word and this time it hurt too much to not make a sound. When a tiny whimper escaped her lips, he looked stricken. Warm blood dripped down over her waist and the curve of her hip.

“Shit, I’m might have to stitch that one closed.” The knife was abruptly gone. She was trembling, almost naked before him, bleeding. But she’d done it, she’d won. Only this round, not the entire fight, her mind corrected her. Yet there was fear in Juric’s face, like he’d realized how much he underestimated her.

Maybe that wasn’t what was going on in his head, because the knife was under her bra strap as if ready to cut it off. The idea of being topless in front of him was scary enough, but more than that, she worried about Shawn’s business card hidden there. He’d certainly take it from her, and it was all she had. Plus, the Osterhägen logo might send him over the edge.

“Okay, stop,” she said, quickly.

He looked relieved. “Do as I told you.”

She took a deep breath, filled her lungs with as much air as possible and then held it. His gaze was intense and impossible to look away from. It was immediately uncomfortable, and she wanted to let the breath out, but he didn’t move. He waited for her to disobey. He wanted to break her.

It was a lifetime before he spoke. “Good job,” he said. “You can breathe.”

She blew it out, sucking new air into her body. But she hadn’t nearly recovered when he commanded her to do it again.

This time was worse. Longer, and it made her head pound from the lack of oxygen. When she was sure she couldn’t hold it any longer, he spoke.

“Five more seconds.”

The longest five seconds of her life. Her eyes watered and pleaded with his. She was dizzy, lightheaded…

“Breathe.”

She gasped for air, doubled-over. “I’m gonna pass out.”

“No, you won’t —”

The room went dark.

And abruptly light again. What the hell had just happened? She was lying on the bed now like she’d teleported there. A bandage clung to her side. There was a medical kit beside her, the paper open and a bloody hook with thread. He sat next to her on the bed, pulling off a pair of latex gloves.

“Well, you called it,” he said. “Once you passed out, I gave you something for the pain. You only needed a few stitches, which could have been avoided.”

Since he’d let his guard down, she wanted to make him pay. A leg was closest to her, so she moved fast and latched her teeth as deep and hard as possible into the meat just above his knee.

“Motherfucker!” He yanked her off and hurled her away, sending her face first into the low-hanging stairs. Her cheekbone felt like it had exploded. In her misery, she wanted to sink into the mattress, but she was up and scrambling away as fast as possible to avoid retaliation. He set one hand around the area she’d bitten and the other hand opened and closed in a fist like that would dissipate his pain.

“That really hurt.”

If he expected her to cower in fear, he was out of luck. She spat her words back at him with the same intensity. “I warned you.”

She was certain that she’d pay for her actions, but it had been worth it. Surely she’d broken the skin beneath his pant leg. He gathered the medical kit up, cursing occasionally when he moved his tender knee. And then he went to the steps and disappeared up them. The bar latched shut and the emotions she held back finally overtook her. Her trembling fingers pulled the card from her bra, beyond relieved that it was still there. The paper had softened against her skin, but otherwise it was unscathed. Her? Not so much.

She stared at the writing, her fingers tracing the raised ink. What was Shawn doing right now? Was he thinking about her and still furious that she’d done this? Would she ever see him again?

For the first time since her mother’s death, she truly cried.

-12-

The murderer came down the stairs after what seemed like twenty minutes with a towel covering something in his hand. He tossed it down on the bed.

“For your cheek.”

It was an ice pack. She turned to him with a surprised expression, and was met by a flash from the cell phone he extended towards her. He’d just taken her picture. Then he plodded back up the stairs without saying another word. She pressed the ice to her face and shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold against her skin.

Time dragged. There was nothing to do in the small basement except sleep, but that was near impossible. Every creak of a floorboard overhead or a pipe running made her startle awake. Her shoulders ached from the metal handcuffs. Was it day outside now? The lack of sleep and control made her crazy and jittery. The pain medicine had worn off and her cuts hurt now, almost as bad as the swollen cheek. And that hurt about the same as the knot on the side of her head from the fall down the stairs.

She cupped water from the faucet into her mouth since there was no glass. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten dinner last night since she had planned to eat at the Osterhägen event. Would he feed her? It had been hours since he’d last come down. She curled back up on the bed and began to plot her next move —

He had a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake.

“Get up.”

How long had she been out? She pulled the sheet around her, and sat up, groggy. She’d awkwardly tugged on the pants he’d left on the bed, but she couldn’t put the shirt on with the handcuffs in the way. No way was she going to parade around in her skimpy bra, which meant she remained on the mattress, willfully disobeying him. He yanked the sheet off, wrapped a hand around her wrist and jerked her up. The pain in her cut was white-hot as he lifted her arms up, stepping under the loop of her arms so her hands were behind his neck.

“No.” She struggled to get out of this weird embrace that brought his face right in front of hers, but his hands clamped tight on her forearms, forcing her to remain.

“Stop fighting me,” he said. “I told you, I don’t enjoy hurting you.”

The crazy thing was she sort of believed this statement. He’d seemed uneasy and rattled when he cut her. His face right before she passed out… He’d been shaken. A weakness? Could she use this to her advantage somehow?

“If you don’t want to hurt me,” she said, “then stop.” Her mind was foggy with pain and exhaustion.

His gaze dropped down, lingering over her body, and she saw the bright blue irises fill with something so fucking frightening she could barely form the word.
Desire.
One of his hands moved, sliding down her elbow and to her shoulder. It crept along her skin, paying no attention to her shudders of revulsion or how she tried to cringe while the hands connected behind his neck restrained her.

It continued its path to her collarbone. Her breath came and went rapidly, her heart thumping faster and faster. He was going to put his hand on her breast. He trailed his fingertips down lower, almost to the lace…

“Please, don’t.” Her voice was calm and even, but below the surface she felt like she was standing on cracking ice.

He hesitated, his breathing just as hurried as hers, and then the desire was thankfully gone. He gently lifted her arms back over his head so he was no longer trapped in them. “I need you to get dressed.”

“I can’t,” she said, making show of the handcuffs.

His eyes gleamed. “Would you like me to take them off?”

She froze. Anything that sounded too good to be true always was.

“Ask me,” he said.

“I’m familiar with this game.” Her voice was resigned. “Will you take the handcuffs off? Please?”

He rewarded her by producing a key from his pocket. She detested his hands on her and allowed it just long enough for him to get one cuff open. He was working on the other and completely unprepared for her to bring her knee up, right between his legs.

He groaned painfully and bent forward, his hold on her strengthening. Even in his discomfort, he was smart enough not to let go of her.

“That’s what you get for touching me,” she said, listening to him catch his breath. “You may not enjoy hurting me, but I like hurting you.”

He recovered quickly and punched her, driving his fist so hard into her stomach she thought it would come out the back. Arms held her tight to keep her on her feet when she fell forward. His arms. The noise she made didn’t sound human.

In her pain, her eyes found his.
Oh god, where was the air?

“Breathe,” he whispered, once again looking stricken. “You’ll be okay.”

She gasped, struggled against him, and finally she did as he commanded. Her body trembled and now she clung to him with no other choice. The man who had struck her. He watched her, curious and confused. She wasn’t able to move, everything hurt and she just wanted five minutes of rest. Five minutes where she wasn’t worried about what he was going to do to her next.

The last thing she thought he’d do was pick her up and help her to the bed. The silver lining to getting punched was she was no longer hungry. He seemed to sense how weak her defenses were and seized on the moment. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Leave me alone,” she begged.

“Tell me.” He made it clear he was determined to get an answer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was the truth. Did he mean the business card? The fact that she might be falling in love with Jason’s brother? Or that her sister was pregnant?

“This part will be hard, but we’ll get through it. You can make it through this in one piece.”

“I thought we weren’t going to lie to each other.”

“I’m not lying to you, Kara.” She hated the way he said her name. Softly, like a lover. “You keep fighting me and leaving me no choice.” She was too tired to hold back the whimper. He undid the other handcuff and set them on the bed beside her. “You have ten minutes to get dressed and then put those back on. You’re not going to want me to do it.”

Her eyes closed and she listened to his footsteps on the stairs. The now familiar sound of the bar latching was like a starting pistol. Liberated hands hurried to pull the clothes on, shoving Shawn’s business card in her bra again, wanting it close.

That left her eight minutes to find a weapon in this spartan room.

She tried to pull the back off the toilet or to get at a part inside, but it was glued shut. There was nothing in the shower except for a tiny bottle of what she suspected was shampoo. The only other object was the bed. How could she use the sheet as a weapon? Was there part of the bed frame she could break?

The screws were rusted on and there was no way it was coming apart. Time was running out, and she stretched her arms gingerly, mindful of the wound. She would not go back to the handcuffs. So she marched them into the bathroom and threw them in the toilet, slamming the lid shut.

The plan that formed there wasn’t great, but it was all she had.