Page 50 of The Taken Duet


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“What the fuck did they do to her?” My voice sounds hoarse and raspy. She’s probably so fucked up, so shattered that she doesn’t know what’s real and what’s not. I wonder if she even recognized her brother. Innocence stolen by force, and her mind has been broken.

That wasn’t Rayne in there. It was a rabid animal.

“We’ll fix her,” I tell him as we head toward the steps that lead to the main floor of the house. I’m not sure we can, but I don’t tell him about my doubt. I hide it where my best friend can never see it.

All these years, River thought his sister was dead, but she isn’t. Which leads me to the question . . . What the fuck happened to her?

Stalking toward the cars parked out front, I find Caia sitting on a concrete bench overlooking the fountain. The gardens of this estate are vast, beautiful, but the horrors that hide within the walls of the mansion are better left untold.

“We should go,” I tell her.

She turns her gaze on me. In the dark, she’s exquisite. Even though she’ll probably never trust another man ever again, I can’t help the need to protect her. I may not be able to love, or show affection, but I can offer her friendship.

“This is it,” she utters. “No more hide and seek,” her voice rasps.

“What?” I’m the one confused now.

“He used to love to play hide and seek with us. He’d have these parties.” Even as she speaks, her voice is faraway. As if she’s not really here, beside me. Her mind is long gone, still within the confines of the house.

“You can tell me about it another time,” I offer, reaching for her. I notice her flinch when I press a hand gently on her shoulder. “My car is over there.” I point as she rises. Quietly, she follows me, settling in the seat when I open the door for her.

Once I’m in the driver’s seat, I start the engine, pulling down the drive and toward her freedom. There’s nothing but silence surrounding us. The roads are pitch black, bar from my headlights. It’s eerie, but it would be safest to keep her from the city.

“Thank you,” she whispers into the darkness.

“It’s my pleasure,” I respond, not daring to look at her. I wonder if she remembers me. If she does, she doesn’t say it. She doesn’t ask about Malcolm, about the mansion. Surely she must have questions?

Her heated gaze burns into my skin. I feel it as she watches me intently. A soft sigh from her lips causes my dick to twitch in response, but I breathe it out, hoping to calm my desire for her. She doesn’t need some fucking asshole trying shit with her after all she’s been through.

The house we rented as a hideaway for this job is ten miles from here, and I know she’ll be asleep by the time we reach halfway. I wanted to take her back to the mansion, but it’s too dangerous. If one of the clients sees her, or if she loses her shit and tries to run away, it could be detrimental. If the parties she attended with Thanos were filled with buyers, they’ll recognize her the moment she steps foot in the city.

The stench of blood is rife, but when she opens the window, I smile. She sticks her head out of the space, allowing the wind to flick her hair around her head. There’s something so innocent about it. Childlike. When she finally sits back, she turns her attention toward me. I can feel her gaze on my right side, but I don’t look at her. I’ve learned how to deal with people who’ve been through trauma, but for the first time, I want to learn everything about her.

The promise I made her has turned into something else. It’s no longer one to just find her; it’s one that I’m making wordlessly to keep her safe. Whether that be in my arms or not.

Four years is a long time to feel something for someone. But when I saw her tonight, it was if I was transported back to the first day I laid eyes on her.

“Sir,” I call to my father. In here, we’re not related, merely boss and slave. That’s how I see it anyway. “We have contact,” I tell him, knowing he’ll be happy about that.

“And they know what we have?”

I nod.

“Good. Get her ready.”

As soon as I step into the room, I’m stunned by the pretty little thing curled up on the bed. She looks so delicate. Tiny. Almost fragile. And I wonder how much it would take for me to break her.

My cock agrees. It wants to see how much she can take. Smirking, I stroll farther into the room. Her big eyes peek up at me from under long, dark lashes, and I envision them tearing up from her position on the floor while I order her to do what I want. Anything I want.

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