Page 15 of Vow to Protect
He wears a precisely tailored three-piece suit, rich and luxurious. A deadly trap of handsome, disguising a rotten heart. On first impressions, he appeared deceivingly charming. Then I spun out of control in his abyss of emptiness. I now know him to be The Reaper in Italian woven wool.
Blaine stares down at me, emotionless and vacant. If he wasn’t towering above me with dashes of red tarnishing stiff white cotton, I’d agree he’s attractive. High cheekbones lead to a well-kept dark beard. Tamed curls are slicked back from his forehead, and his eyebrows are neat. But those eyes, those baron eyes skitter icicles over my scalp.
“And you must be the younger sister?” he asks without expression.
“Yes,” I whisper, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth.
“Age?” He pops the knife into a sheath.
“Twenty-five.”
“I didn’t know she had a sister. So many secrets.”
“Your name?”
“Raen Cartier,” I choke out.
“Well, Raen. One thing you should know about me, you’ll always have two choices, like the blade of a dagger has two sides. I’m a fair man. Your sister ran away; she made her choice. Work for me and live. Run and die. Such simple options that hold life changing consequences. This one picked her fate.” He nudges Natalie’s lifeless hand with the toe of his brogues. “She wears death well. Don’t you think?” Perfect brows nip together like he’s being serious. “You’ll find that even in the end I was kind to her. I gave Natalie the choice to feel the pain, or to numb it. That lucky lady didn’t feel a thing.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, so official, so rationally. “Today, Raen, you have a choice.” The handsome man, touched by the devil, hunkers down to face me head on. “You can die by the blade, right here, right now, or you can come with me.”
“I’ll go with you,” I sob. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“I said nothing about not hurting you.” His baron eyes seek mine. “Don’t look so scared. It will be a light scratch.” A blade catches the light. “If you struggle, it will sting like a fucker.”
My instincts beg me to flee and hide. Blaine’s men watch me from the doorway. His right-hand man Dexter hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he caught me sprinting back to the shop where I should have been buying Tampons. That’s the excuse I offered him on the night I ran to Brett’s apartment. Dexter’s muted disapproval and icy glare were equally as frightening as the mark carved into my skin by my tormentor. As a consequence, his men never leave me alone, always vigilant and ready to hunt me down if I stray too far. Blaine gave them the order to shoot me in the back if I run. Each new night in captivity, I weigh up my options. How a clean bullet in the kidneys or a dirty knife in the heart would finally put an end to this.Should I risk the chance of being caught and joining my sister?For now, I cling to the aspiration of taking them all out one by one. I’m in control of whether I live or die. It’s all I have left to help me function.
Thin fabric hugging my hips scrunches in my curled fingers. The material tightens around me. I wish I could rip the lies off and toss them into the breeze. Passersby assume I’m well to do, with freedom as my choice. Instead, I’m surrounded. Caged. A prisoner held in an invisible cell of threats.
Headlights blink. From behind me, a car as dark as the cloudy sky rolls to a halt at the kerbside. Blacked-out windows reflect sparkling streetlights. Two women race past the bar, huddled together, clattering the pavement with skinny heels. I sense an audience as I turn to face the waiting vehicle. Two more SUV’s appear, parking with an urgency that makes my heart still.
“Raen.” A discorded melody breaks into the night air as the bar doors swing open. Blaine marches towards me, long strides eating up the pavement. “Time to leave.” Hands clamp my waist.
Loose strands dance across my face, guarding me from his eyes. “Get her out of here,” he mutters to Dexter, who makes his presence known behind us when he pulls out a revolver.
A man hidden beneath a baseball cap covers the ground in a flash. He brandishes a handgun, unperturbed by his obvious display. The barrel sways and then levels at my mouth. Not at Blaine, or the guy beside me— but at me.
“Time’s up, Blaine,” the man declares. “We had a deal.”
“Wehavea deal,” Blaine corrects. “You’d do well to wait.” It chills me how calm he is, bordering on cocky. Then I reconsider that thought, the gun is on me, no one else. He can play roulette with my life. I’m inconsequential.
“How about I take the girl as a down payment?” The gunman checks his watch. Car doors unleash a clan of men that line the street.
“I have plans for her.” Blaine motions to Dexter, who clamps my bicep.
“She’d make a good deposit. Or something to sweeten the deal until the shipment is unloaded.”
Blaine sighs and flicks a speck of dust from his jacket. Always so precise, always so vain. “Fine.” He glances at his clean, trimmed nails like he’s inspecting the work of a nail technician. “Tell, Law, I’ll see him around.”
The gunman chuckles, low and sadistic. “Not if he sees you first. I’m sure he’ll enjoy your gift.”
Blaine looks right at me. “She’s temporarily on loan. I went to great lengths to acquire this particular one.” Merciless eyes, void of empathy, stare at me for the longest moment. “Behave yourself, Raen.” He nods once and steps aside to grant the men full access.
I’m not surprised he doesn’t fight for me, or question their intentions, or even bat an eyelid because to him, I’m disposable. There is no negotiation.
I’m freed by one man and captured by another. The transaction is effortless and rough. With every breath, my chest pumps. I have no weapons or a shot at freedom when a gun prods my ribs. My jerky steps are double the strides of my new prisoner. Surely not all men are as ruthless as Blaine. I wish I could shrink in size, to become liquid like rain, to turn as invisible as the breeze. The internal chant for safety repeats until I’m dizzy.
An almighty shiver races down my spine when a man dressed in a black knee-length coat opens a door. I dare a glance around the empty street. Heroes don’t exist. Not even Brett can save me now.
“Wait.” Blaine saunters up behind me and leans in close to my cheek. His minty breath prickles caution over my scalp. Pointed steel, cold and sharp, pricks the curve of my waist. “Don’t forget where you belong. This doesn't mean you’re free.” I gulp back the venom burning my tongue. “When you're with, Law, find out everything you can about him. I haven’t decided if I trust him yet.” The piercing point doesn’t break through the fabric, yet firm pressure is enough to sting and warn. “Tell, Law, I want her back in two days.” He slowly weaves his fingers through my hair. Gentle sweeps switch to nasty, snapping my head back. His sudden tight grip bunches strands at my nape, making me wince and whimper. My legs buckle when he shunts into the backs of my knees. He controls the movement, tipping me forward, held by the hair like a puppet. “The guy can do whatever he wants with her, as long as there’s no visible damage.”
