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“Get your fucking hands off of me or you’re never going to see her again,” Stephen growled.
She continued to struggle, trying desperately to free her hands. After jerking and twisting, she managed to free her right hand. She reached for the other, her fingers touching the smooth buckle. You have to get free. You have to.
“You’re insane,” Chris said between clenched teeth.
Stephen laughed. “No. I’m just a better man.”
Bam!
A series of thuds jerked her attention to the door. She wiggled and pulled, slapping her hand up toward the buckle. Sweat rolled down her face as she worked to unfasten. Every muscle in her body ached. Her head was swimming and as she licked her lip, she tasted blood.
“You’re insane,” Christopher yelled.
An odd smell assaulted her senses. She sniffed. Fire? Was she smelling smoke? Frantic, she used almost the last of her strength, arching her back until she was able to finally slip the loop from the strap, freeing her other wrist. Panting, she shivered as she slid down the cross until she was crouched enough to unfasten both of her legs. She tentatively took a step forward, tripping as she moved in the darkness. She was weak, the chill in the room creeping into her bones.
“Goddamn you! I will enjoy watching you die!”
Chris’ voice was hollow, his words stilted. She sucked in her breath and continued forward toward the sound. The fight continued as she took several deliberate steps. She held out her arms and when her fingers touched what had to be the wall, she sighed with relief. She was able to see light from under the door and when she managed to focus, she slapped her hand against the wall, searching for a light switch.
Her fingers touching a metal plate, she sighed and flipped the small knob. Biting light flooded the room. She placed her hand on the doorknob then turned to see where she’d been kept captive. Frozen, she let out a scream then slapped her hand over her mouth. Her legs shaking, she fell against the wall, her nails clawing the plaster. “No!”
Destiny blinked and while she was able to focus, she refused to comprehend what she was seeing. Several dead women were tied to various apparatuses, their sunken eyes and engorged faces a sign of the horrors they’d faced. She was in the killing zone of a madman. Please God, get me out of her. Please…
“I’ll never allow you to hurt her. She’s not part of this. You can have the contract, the business. I don’t care. I can’t believe you’d kill all those people to get back at me.”
“You’re such a fool. I enjoy the art of Shibari. I love watching women beg for release. Only the true submissives can understand. Dr. Blade. I thought she was such a woman.”
Wham!
Destiny jerked open the door, racing out.
“And you’re going to die.”
In Christopher’s hands was a gun, pointed at Stephen. “Christopher!”
In a split-second decision, he turned in her direction. At that moment, Stephen lunged forward, tackling Christopher to the ground.
Smoke rolled down the hallway toward her. She covered her mouth and raced toward them as flames crawled up the walls.
“Stop. Police!”
In slow motion, she watched as Stephen grabbed the gun from Christopher’s hands. He stood tall, a beaming smile on his face, and took aim. She took a giant leap toward the madness.
Boom!
* * *
Destiny stretched and opened her eyes. A shimmer of sun slipped past the blinds. She rolled over, expecting Montana. Sighing, she twisted in the sheets and thought about the night before. The cool linen scratched against her ass and she moaned, her pussy instantly wet. The spanking had been particularly tasty. She giggled and rolled over onto his side of the bed. His side. The words were delicious. He spent more time at her house than his and had since…
Ugly memories drifted into her mind. In the month since the horrific events unfolded, she’d been able to block out the majority of the images. Her nightmares had ceased and she was no longer hearing Chris’ voice inside her head. She was the only one convinced her mystery lover and Chris were the same. Science and common sense had intervened and she’d stopped talking about the concept after the first few days.
Montana’s wound was almost healed. The gunshot had missed his heart by inches, the police said thanks to her. She was no hero. She’d gotten him into the wretched situation.
Inhaling, the scent of sex lingered. She sat up and listened for any signs of Montana. She heard what sounded like muffled voices coming from the other room. Slipping out from under the covers, she grabbed her robe, tying the sash tightly before walking toward the bedroom door. She cracked open the door and eased out into the hallway. From the top of the stairs she was able to see Montana’s back. Who was he talking to?
“I’m sorry to interrupt you on your week off.”
“Hey. I can’t live on sex and wine forever,” Montana joked.
