Page 88 of Imprisoned

“No. I want them to hear you. I want them to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Her lips part, cheeks rosy with arousal, and that hint of fear that drives me wild surfaces in her eyes. I thrust up harder, making her gasp loudly.

“That’s it,” I growl. “Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

The plane hits another pocket of turbulence, jostling us and driving me deeper. Willow cries out, unable to contain herself, and the sound echoes in the small cabin. Tommy shifts in his seat but keeps the gun steady on the pilot.

The thrill of fucking her with an audience—unwilling as they may be—sends a surge of power through me that’s almost as good as the sex itself. I’ve never been one for rules or propriety. Still, there’s something especially satisfying about claiming what’s mine while others are so close by.

39

WILLOW

The plane’s wheels touch down on the small private airstrip, jolting me from my half-sleep against Axel’s shoulder. Darkness envelops us outside the windows, with only the runway lights illuminating our arrival. The reality hits me—we made it. We’re actually in Brazil.

Tommy exits first, scanning the area with practiced vigilance before giving us a nod. Axel takes my hand as we descend the steps, his grip firm and reassuring. The warm, humid night air wraps around us, so different from what we left behind.

Axel’s lips brush my ear. “Home sweet home, little pixie.”

A black SUV waits for us at the edge of the tarmac, headlights cutting through the darkness. The driver doesn’t ask questions; he just takes the address I provide in broken Portuguese and pulls away from the airstrip.

My stomach twists with nerves as we wind along coastal roads under a star-filled sky. Not about the escape—that part worked perfectly. It’s what waits for us at the beach house. Who waits for us.

Mom.

The beach house appears around a bend—white stucco walls illuminated by landscape lighting, the ocean invisible in thenight beyond. Behind it rises a dense wall of lush tropical forest, silvery in the moonlight that filters through the canopy. I purchased it through an offshore account, carefully covering my tracks. Four days ago, I sent Mom here for a much-needed vacation.

She has no idea what’s coming.

“That’s it.” I point as the SUV slows. “Pull in there.”

Tommy whistles low. “Nice digs.”

Axel’s eyes are narrow as he studies the property. “Isolated. Good sight lines.” He nods approvingly, his gaze lingering on the moonlit forest that provides natural cover on three sides. “Smart choice.”

The car stops, and I hold my breath in anticipation. I exit onto the crushed shell driveway, the night air heavy with salt and humidity. Through the house’s open windows, I hear the faint sound of classical music—Mom’s favorite Chopin.

I move toward the door, Axel and Tommy flanking me like shadows.

Before I can knock, the door swings open. Mom stands there, dressed in flowing linen pants and a light blouse, a welcome smile freezing on her face as she registers who is standing before her. The warm glow from inside casts long shadows across her features as her eyes widen from my face to Axel’s scarred knuckles to Tommy’s watchful stance.

“Willow?” The color drains from her face. “What are—how did you—” Her gaze locks onto Axel, recognition sparking in her eyes. She’s seen his face on the news. “What is happening? Who are these men?”

I step forward, placing my hand on Mom’s arm. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

She flinches away from my touch, her eyes never leaving Axel’s face.

“Axel,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the hurricane of emotions swirling inside me. “Can you and Tommy check the perimeter? Make sure everything’s secure?”

Axel’s eyes meet mine, an unspoken question in them. I nod slightly, letting him know I’ll be okay.

“Sure thing.” He brushes his fingers against my cheek, a possessive gesture that makes my mother gasp. “Holler if you need me.”

As they move away into the darkness surrounding the house, I guide Mom inside and close the door. Her complexion pales visibly as we sit on the pristine white couch under the soft lamplight.

“That’s Axel Morrison. The serial killer. Willow, what have you done?”

I take a deep breath. “I helped him escape prison. Him and Tommy.”

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