Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) (65 page)

I gagged and twisted my
face away. I couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t do it.

“Untie her mouth and
make her suck you,” Lymon commanded, moving his chair closer and to
the side so he’d be at just the right angle to watch. “And come
all over her tits,” he ordered. “I want to see that.”

The monster came toward
me and stood close, nearly suffocating me with his bulk as he leaned
over to unfasten my gag. The second he did, I had plans. I’d sink
my teeth so hard into his penis he’d never be able to use it again.

“Wait.” Lymon spoke
just as he was about to undo the knot. “This one’s a biter,” he
observed. Suddenly, I felt the cold jolt of metal against the soft
flesh of my breast. I looked down and saw the flat side of Lymon’s
knife pressed against me. “If you bite him,” he hissed. “I’ll
cut you.”

He grabbed a fistful of
my hair and pulled my head to look at him. “Do you understand?”

It all hurt so much,
his tight grip in my hair, my wrists and ankles bound, the fear of
what they were doing to me. I whimpered and nodded.

“Good.” He gave me
a cruel, tobacco-stained smile. “Now show me what a good little
slut you are and suck his cock.”

Declan

I didn’t know how
long she’d been gone by the time I woke up. One minute I was lying
there, dead asleep. The next I jolted up, balancing on my feet ready
to fight. I knew something was wrong. I don’t know how I knew, but
I did.

I’d heard a car leave
the property, I realized. That was the noise that woke me up. I
couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened to Kara.
It was more than just waking up with her not by my side. Rationally,
I knew she could have simply gone up to the big house for a change of
clothes or some coffee. But my gut told me otherwise. I pulled on my
jeans and bolted outside.

No sign of Kara. I ran
up to the main house to make sure, knocking and calling her name like
a maniac. No answer. Her truck sat parked where it always had been.
Racing back to the cabin for my boots and shirt, I grabbed my cell
phone and called her number. No answer. I stepped outside and could
hear her phone ringing through an open window in the house. She’d
left it behind. That’s when I knew with every bone of my body,
something bad had happened.

I found old Bill in the
barn and scared the daylights out of the man. He hadn’t seen me in
six years and now here I was, my shirt unbuttoned and hanging out
over my jeans, unshaven and crazy-eyed back at the ranch yelling
about Kara.

“I haven’t seen her
this morning,” he apologized. “What’s the matter?”

“I heard a car
leave,” I insisted.

“Maybe a friend came
to pick her up?” Bill scratched his chin, then looked at me like he
was sorry to say it. “You don’t think Lymon…?”

My fists balled up in
rage. “You mean the rat who was trying to buy this place?”

“Never thought much
of the man,” Bill admitted. “Never did like the way he kept
sniffing around here. Maybe he didn’t want to take no for an
answer.”

I didn’t say a word.
I didn’t need to, I was already off and running. I don’t know how
I drove my truck without getting into an accident, rage and
adrenaline pumping through me so fast I think I could have plowed
straight through a brick building. I didn’t know exactly where I
was headed when I started out. Then, suddenly, I did. I knew where
I’d look for her first. I just hoped I’d find her. And that I
wasn’t too late.

I’d had a bad feeling
about that old, abandoned warehouse right from the start. I hadn’t
liked watching her go in there. At the time, I hadn’t known what
she was up to but I’d put it together. That was where Lymon had her
sign papers. That was where he liked to conduct business. In that
remote, anonymous, fall-down building, who knew what kind of
transactions went down? I couldn’t let him drag Kara into any part
of it.

Dust flying, I don’t
even remember parking the car before I leapt out. I’d never done
speed, but I imagine it would feel something like that, fueled,
powered, unstoppable. I didn’t knock, just slammed the door open
and raced in like a madman.

The goon went down
easy. The big guys usually did, especially when they were standing
around stupid with their pants down. Motherfucker. Slow and dumb, he
didn’t even have time to duck my jab to his throat. He sank down to
his knees and I took him out with a vicious sideswipe to his jaw. I’d
learned a lot in life about how to make a man go down hard and quick.

But I hadn’t expected
a knife fight. The squat little fuck in the tan suit behind me got a
poke at me while I was dealing with the big guy. I figured the little
guy was Lymon. He looked like a Lymon, all greasy and mean. He knifed
me in the back and it hurt like a bitch but pain didn’t matter to
me. All that mattered was tied up on the chair next to me with her
shirt split down the middle. I’d kill the bastards.

I spun around at Lymon
and lunged for his throat. Like the coward he was, he tried to turn
and run but somehow managed to trip on his own pants, then fall onto
his own goddamned knife. No wonder he needed a bodyguard, the guy was
a goddamned idiot. The knife got him near the groin and that seemed
fitting, him doubled over and squealing like a stuck pig while he
bled on the floor.

I was on Kara in less
than a heartbeat, rushing to untie her, gathering her up in my arms.
I didn’t think I’d ever forget the chilling sight of her on that
chair. She was shivering and shaking, crying and incoherent.

“Are you all right?”
I kept repeating, over and over. I don’t think I would have been
able to understand her even if she had been able to answer me
straight and clear. Rage and fear and relief all raced through my
body and mind.

I called the cops and
we waited for them in my truck, inside with the doors closed where I
could help her into one of my sweatshirts and hold her tight. Blood
oozed from the wound on my back, but I could tell it wasn’t too
bad. I’d need a couple of stitches, that was all. All the while I
smoothed her hair back and held her safe, I kept my eye on those
murderous, vile motherfuckers. I could see them both through the open
door of the warehouse, slumped on the floor.

Kara didn’t say much
at the police station. She didn’t have to. Her statement was brief
and cut me to the quick. They’d grabbed her at the ranch while I’d
slept. I didn’t know how I’d ever close my eyes again. They’d
taken her and tied her up and had been about to violate her before I
showed up.

Turned out I hadn’t
killed either of them. Shame. I’d put them both in the hospital,
but they were both still able to draw breath and exist in this world.
After a brief, blinding flash of fury—I’d wanted to end those
evil fucks—I tried to focus on the good. I’d gotten there in
time. Kara had been terrified, but I’d stopped them from carrying
out any of their threats.

But how did you recover
from something like that? Would she ever? I didn’t know how to
begin. What would it take to help her start trusting and relaxing
again, my sweet, innocent Kara? She was the one person I knew who
always saw the best in life. How could she keep that up, now that she
knew otherwise?

How had I let this
happen to her? Because, deep down, I knew this was my fault. I kept
my arm around her while she sipped hot coffee and sat wrapped in a
blanket at the police station. For now, she pressed against me,
seeming to take comfort in my nearness. But once the dust settled,
how long could that last?

Ultimately, she’d see
that I’d put her in harm’s way. If I’d helped her right away,
she would never have had to go to Lymon. But I hadn’t helped her
right away. I’d withheld my money when she’d needed it most. I
was responsible for what had happened and I hated myself for it. At
some point I had to think she’d come to hate me for it, too.

§

I took Kara to my
luxury property in Bozeman. I owned the type of rustic lodge that had
heated floors and piped-in music in every room. It seemed paltry, a
pathetic offering given what she’d been through. I cancelled all my
meetings for the next week. I’d never taken a vacation, not once in
my life. Now I had urgent business to attend to still, but it all
revolved around one woman.

The first two days she
slept. I kept checking in on her, and sometimes I’d sit in a chair
by the bed. Was it normal to sleep like that? I figured she’d wake
up sooner or later, right?

Friday afternoon she
finally made her way out of the bedroom, pulling a blanket around her
shoulders as she walked.

“Hey.” I came to
her side, embracing her. “You’re up.”

“Sorry I stayed in
bed so long.” She looked down, shaking her head.

“Kara, don’t be
ridiculous.” I led her into the kitchen. I had no skills, no idea
how to make a meal, but I could order food for us, anything she
wanted. “Maybe some soup?”

She shrugged, not
seeming all that interested. An hour later I had five different kinds
of soups delivered to our door, from tomato basil bisque to chicken
noodle, plus fresh crusty French baguettes and ice cream for dessert.

She’d gone back to
bed. I stood there like an idiot, holding up bags like I’d proudly
just come back from the hunt. Modern day caveman wanted to show off
his take-out kill. Only my woman was fast asleep.

Time, I reminded
myself. She needed time and, apparently, a whole lot of sleep. She
looked so peaceful in the bed and I wanted her to feel exactly like
that, entirely safe and secure. I wanted to shower her with rose
petals, make her feel like a princess, romance her like she’d never
been before. But first I had to let her sleep. Then I had to see if
she’d let me do the rest.

But a nasty voice in my
head asked how could she? How could she forgive and forget? This was
all my fault. If I’d helped her straight away, none of this would
have happened. Instead, I’d been selfish, and I’d let her fall
victim to the kinds of assholes who preyed on the vulnerable. I knew
all about those kinds of scumbags. I’d grown up surrounded by them.
But I’d still gone and thrown them the one person I cherished more
than anyone else in the world.

I was a dawg. The best
thing to do would be to walk away. In no way shape or form was I good
enough for her. But that was the problem. I wasn’t even a good
enough man to leave her.

Saturday morning I made
her pancakes. They sucked. I had no idea how to do it and I burned
them all until she came over, turned down the heat and flipped them,
nice and easy.

“I wanted to cook for
you,” I grumbled.

“But I want to eat,”
she teased me. Teasing was a good sign.

She ate with a
fantastic appetite I relished seeing. Afterwards, she stretched like
a cat waking from a long nap. I followed her gaze out the window.
Sunlight shone through the majestic trees, the first day of July.

“Would you like to
take a walk?” I suggested. This luxury compound had it all, from a
manicured, flat one-mile nature loop to 20 mile hikes on trails up
rugged mountains. I figured the former would be the better choice for
today.

“Fresh air sounds
good,” she agreed. I hated how frail and wan she looked, her skin
almost translucently pale. Guilt stabbed through me, hurting much
more than Lymon’s knife ever could. The wound on my back was
healing nicely, but I didn’t know when or even if I’d get to see
the bloom back in Kara’s cheeks.

We strolled in the
mid-morning sun, ambling along a path. She stopped to look at the
flowers, the type of moss growing on a tree, a bird on a low branch.
I wouldn’t have noticed any of it had she not been beside me.

We came to a bench,
strategically placed at a vantage point to enjoy a view of a meadow
and mountains beyond. I found a mix of cultivation and wild worked
best, with well-placed opportunities for guests to admire the
wilderness. I’d never enjoyed any of it so much as I did sitting
with her at that moment.

“Do you own all
this?” she asked.

I held her hand in
mine, trying not to squeeze too tight. “Well, not the mountains.
But all this,” I gestured around us to the grounds. “Yes.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

“You like it?” I
took pleasure in her praise.

“It’s perfect,
Declan.” But she didn’t look happy. I braced myself as she took a
deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry you had to spend money
on my family’s ranch. I can see it’s nothing like the type of
property you usually buy. Nothing compared to this.”

“Kara, it’s yours.”
I couldn’t believe she was dwelling on that. I brought her close,
gathering her to me in the fold of my arm. “You’re the rightful
owner. All I did was get it back for you.”

“No” She shook her
head. “I feel guilty.”

“You feel guilty.”
I shook my head with a low laugh. She was unbelievable. “Kara, you
have nothing to feel guilty about. Buying your ranch was nothing.”

She sniffed in
disagreement. “It wasn’t nothing.”

“It didn’t exactly
set me back financially.”

She looked at me. “Are
you a millionaire?”

I couldn’t help but
laugh. She said it as if being a millionaire meant anything anymore.
She was so sweet.

“You are, aren’t
you?” she asked.

“More than that.” I
didn’t want to brag, but maybe some numbers would help her get
perspective.

“More?” Her eyes
widened.

“It’s difficult to
calculate my exact net worth. There’s a lot of moving parts.”

“But how much are you
worth?” she pressed, clearly curious. “Like, two million?”

“Last I spoke with my
finance guy, he projected that my assets totaled near thirty
million.”

“What?!?” She
shoved me.

“Yes.” I laughed,
enjoying her reaction.

“How did you do
that?” She looked incredulous.