Six, long, isolated years I’ve been trapped in that cabin. Six long years since my dad took me away from everything and everyone I loved. Part of me was always aware of his illness. It was like he didn’t know any better. He thought he was saving me from the tainted world. Isolation with him would keep me pure.
But this.
This is much worse.
This is a whole life I never imagined existed. These people are evil and the binds around my wrists and ankles cut so deep I feel the warm trickle of blood across my bony ankles. I look up at the ceiling; my sore eyes can’t shed any more tears. I’ve cried until it’s impossible to cry anymore. My body is weak, and I can’t remember when food last passed my lips. I shiver; my whole, naked body covering in goosebumps. My eyes flit around the dark room. The black and red décor feels like it’s closing in on me. The curtains are blocking out the sunlight and other than the bed and a chair, there is nothing else in this room. It’s worse than my previous home of isolation. Something I never thought would be possible.
My father forced me to live in the cabin. Every single day. Although I could see it, outside the cabin was completely out of bounds. Dad said he was keeping me safe. Making sure that nothing would ever happen to me. But he also talked about the demons in his head and I knew there was something not quite right with Dad.
Little did he know that when he died and I finally escaped, I would be walking straight into the clutches of evil.
I allow my eyes to flutter shut; trying to force out the bad and replace it with the image of Brax’s beautiful face. The memory of him is etched so deeply in my mind. And also my heart. He’s my safe place. The one I think about when times are bad. The only boy I’ve ever loved.
Braxton.
The boy that will forever hold my heart.
I loved him when my whole life was full of pain. It didn’t matter that Mom had become a drunk and never bothered with me. Because Braxton and Travis, well, they showed me the meaning of true love. We were best friends. The kind of friendship some people can only dream of. It was special. Every shitty day turned into a good one with them. They made the dark skies turn bright and my empty, lost heart, full again.
Until that son of a bitch turned my whole world on its axis. I was held captive, away from my two best friends and made to believe it was for the best.
Although I know it wasn’t. Nothing good came from the solitary confinement of the room I was locked in.
I think about Braxton every day. I wonder if he ever found love. How he and Travis are doing? I have missed those crazy boys every single day for the past six years.
My senses on high alert, causes me to freeze at the distant sound of voices. I swallow down hard, desperately trying to coat my dry mouth, my throat stinging from his previous assault. My throat tightens in anticipation, my heart pounding as the fear courses through me.
I can’t take anymore.
In my mind, I know I will never survive. When I escaped, all I could think about was the life I’d longed for. The life I was meant to have with Brax and Travis. Only I exchanged one type of evil for another.
The bang at the door catches my attention. My dry, stinging eyes focusing and waiting to see who will walk through. I chant over and over in my mind.
Please don’t let it be him.
Please don’t let him hurt me again.
But it’s no use.
My eyes meet with the man who tied me up here. The man who raped me over and over, telling me I was his. That I belonged to him.
And I fought.
I fought with all my might.
Only, my might wasn’t good enough.
He took me, along with my innocence and my virginity. It hurt so bad. So much pain raced through me as he forced himself inside me for his own sick amusement.
His face appears in the doorway, the evil sideways grin stares at my naked body.
“My precious plaything. How are you this morning?” he asks with a saccharine tone, closing the door behind him slowly.
“Please, I just want to go home,” I plead with him, although I know it’s no use. “You got what you wanted, just let me go. I want to go home.” I choke back the emotion bubbling to the surface.
Stepping forward, he stops at the end of the bed, gripping the wooden bed frame. A wide, childlike smile spreads across his face, the skin around his mouth and eyes crinkle, showing his true age. He has to be at least fifty and always smells strongly of cigars. The smell feels like acid in my nostrils and I have to force back the bile that rises in my throat.
He lets out a grumble. “Home?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, his dark eyes narrowed on me. “You don’t have a home, we both know that.” It’s like his words taunt me, reminding me of my past.
“I do have a home. I have friends, I have family…”
“A family that no longer wants you. Friends who have moved on without you. You’ve been gone for six years. Six, long years, you have been missing. Did anyone come to find you? Did anyone send the police looking for you? No! And you know why? Because no one cares anymore, Isabelle.” He forces out my name, the words roll and linger on his tongue. “They have all moved on with their lives and it’s time you did the same.”
“No,” I cry out, my voice breaking as I force out the words. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me suffer more than I already have?” I pull frantically at the brown cord rope fastened around my wrists.
“Because, I want you. You are mine now. Mine to do with what I please.”
“I will never be yours. Not truly.”
He walks slowly around the bed, his head and chin lifted like he thinks he’s some damn member of royalty. He looks down at me while his rough index finger trails up from my ankle and across my torso before he forces it into my mouth. My whole skin is covered in goosebumps, my body trembling as the fear increases along with my heartbeat.
“Suck it,” he demands.
I close my eyes, sheathing my teeth as he forces his finger in and out of my mouth, hitting the back of my throat over and over. I fight back the violent gag reflex.
“You will obey me. You will do whatever I ask. No questions, no arguments. You understand?”
I drop my chin a little, giving him the weakest of nods while I continue to suck the vile tasting finger he is forcing into my mouth.
“This turns you on, doesn’t it?”
I don’t say anything. I just continue to comply.
“I see it, I smell it, I feel it,” his voice is a whisper and I tense at the feeling of him touching between my legs. I’m sore, so damn sore, yet my body is betraying me. He works aggressively back and forth, between my folds, my body reacting in the only way it knows how.
“So fucking wet for me, Isabelle.”
I choke back a sob rising in my throat. I have to be strong. Fighting this isn’t helping. Fighting him is pointless. I need to work out a plan, somehow get him on side. I wrap my fingers around the ties that are bound around my wrist. I grab on so tightly, my nails sink deep into my skin. The more I squeeze, the more the pain in my hand helps me focus on something other than what he is doing to me. The warm trickle of blood down my wrist is comforting. I may be bleeding, but I have to concentrate on the fact that my blood is still pumping. I’m alive. And for now that’s all that matters.
* * *
“I need a fucking drink,” I say, slapping Carter heavily on the back. He jolts forward a little unexpectedly and I can’t help but let out a stifled laugh.
“It’s time to fucking party,” he sings, squeezing me on the shoulder lightly, making his way over to the liquor cabinet. I reach inside my pocket retrieving a cigarette and place it loosely between my lips. I search my back pocket, trying to locate my damn lighter.
“Here, let me,” the sweet voice offers. I look at the owner of that voice and it’s the hot brunette from before. She flicks the reel, holding the flame against the end of my cigarette.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a huge drag, needing that fucking hit. She cuts the flame, pushing the lighter into her back jean pocket. My eyes follow her hand and land on her tight ass. I force my hungry eyes away, taking in the rest of her body. She’s wearing a cute little crop top and I notice that she has a huge tattoo on her waist.
“Nice ink,” I say, bending my head to take a closer look.
“Could say the same about you,” she points to my tattoo covered arms and hands.
“So,” I say, taking another deep drag of my smoke and welcoming the invasion of nicotine on my brain, “I’ve not seen you here before.”
“Nope,” she says nervously, clasping her hands together; turning a silver-colored ring she has on her middle finger. “This is the first time I’ve been allowed. Isn’t that right, Carter?” I whip my head to the side, my eyes landing on Carter as he stops just beside me.
“You know each other?”
“You could say that,” Tara replies, reaching across and swiping the glass of bourbon from Carter’s hand. I look between them, knowing something is going on here. Carter wouldn’t let that slide, normally.
“You’re a fucking brat, Tara,” he snarls, turning and grabbing the bottle from the cabinet.
I stare at her, hoping that someone will clue me in. “Cousin,” she informs me, lifting her brow as she slowly runs the rim of the glass against her plush bottom lip. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
I check over my shoulder, Carter is now leaning in closely with someone over at the bar area, so I move closer to Tara, watching as her chest rises and falls with the excitement of my close proximity.
“I’m just thinking it’s a shame that I won’t be able to fuck you until you are begging for more, until I have you crying out my name.” We are standing facing each other, our skin so close to touching. My lips are near to hers and I watch as she swallows down slowly, her eyes burning deeply into mine. I break the contact; a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I watch her mouth drop open a little, a look of shock on her face. I start to walk away and out of the room, pissed that this girl who has my dick twitching is so off limits.
“Wait,” she calls after me. I stop in the hallway, slowly turning to see the stunning brunette standing in front of me. “For one, who do you think you are, talking to me like that, and for two, who says I’m off limits?”
“Goes without saying. You’re the boss’ cousin. That’s a no go in my mind.”
“Why?” she quickly counter questions.
I place my hand at the side of my ear. “I can’t hear you,” I say with a shake of my head. The music playing reverberates through the whole house, and although I could really hear her, this just wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. I turn my back on the girl, making my way down the hall. I’m suddenly halted; the girl is standing in front of me, her hand resting against my chest. I turn, resting my back against the door behind me.
“What the fuck do you want?” I ask, annoyance lacing my tone.
She rises onto her tiptoes before scanning the room. Her face is close as she narrows her sexy, hazel eyes on mine.
“You,” she breathes heavily. “I just want you.” Reaching behind me, she quickly drops the handle, the door behind me flying open. I stumble back, holding out my arms as I desperately try to stay on my feet. Before I know it, I’m in the broom closet, the sound of the door bolting shut.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl, steadying myself and darting forward, flipping on the light switch. The small bulb above our heads flickers and my eyes land on the girl with her back against the door. I lean forward, my heavy hands landing either side of her head.
“It’s a fucking dangerous game you’re playing, little girl.” As much as I want her, as much as I’d love to fuck her, I just know I can’t. There is a line and being with this girl would cross that motherfucker.
“You’re dangerous, I know you are. But you know what?” She trails her finger across my chest, covering my hand with hers. “It has me all turned on. Here, feel,” she clutches my hand, guiding it between her legs, rubbing back and forth.
I snap my hand away and thrust it towards her neck. “Don’t you ever touch me like that again. One thing you need to know about me. I can’t be forced into anything. If I want to fuck this pretty fucking pussy of yours, I will. But only when I say so.” I squeeze her throat until her eyes widen.
“You don’t frighten me,” she says with a smug look on her face. “You’re different from the rest. That much I do know about you.”
“Different?” I ask with a cock of my head. “Different, how?”
“Like you’re not quite the heartless criminal you make yourself out to be.” She looks up at me through her thick, dark lashes, fluttering them slowly.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I retort. “I’m just as bad as the rest.”
“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” she says with an exaggerated shake of her head.
“Think what you like,” I say with a shrug before dropping my hands, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. “Now, move out of my fucking way.”
“Why is it so hard for you to let your guard down? I know you want to fuck me. So, what’s the problem?”
“What’s the fucking problem?” I say with a gasp. “The problem is you’re the boss’ family. I don’t fuck with his relations…”
“Why?” She asks, cutting me off mid-sentence. “I mean, you do know he brought me here to meet you, right?”
I draw my eyebrows together, pinning her with my stare. “What the fuck…” I breathe out.
“It’s true, go ask him,” she offers her hand toward the door, side stepping to allow me to exit. I hesitate for a second, wondering whether or not she’s telling me the truth.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Nineteen, why?”
“Because you look young. Much younger than nineteen.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to take my word for it,” she says, darting her tongue out, wetting her lips. Like a switch being flipped, something comes over me and I rush, wrapping my hand around the back of her, grabbing her hair roughly. I pull her into me, her hands resting on my chest. My heart beats furiously and my cock twitches to life as I hold the beauty in my arms. It’s no lie when I say that every girl I’ve ever been with, I compare to Izzy. And I look at this girl, so innocent, so untouched, and even though it’s not Izzy, she’s got my blood pumping and I can no longer deny that I want her. But it’s just sex. It’s nothing more.
Because my heart will always belong to her. To my Izzy.
“Let’s just get one thing straight,” I whisper, bending my head and touching her lips with mine. “I want to fuck you. Nothing more, nothing less. If you can’t handle that I suggest you take that sexy little ass of yours and find some other guy.” My breath is against hers, her breathing is rapid and her hands wander up my torso slowly, landing on the crook of my neck. She guides me closer until our lips meet with intensity and she hurries to deepen the kiss. She kisses me with meaning. Hard, deep and eager to please. Her hand trails downwards as she pushes it inside the top of my jeans. I pull back, narrowing my eyes on her.
“No way,” I say with a sudden sense of realization. I only have her word that Carter is cool with this, and honestly, I think it’s a little out of character. I contemplate my next move. My cock is straining against my jeans and I need some relief like my life depends on it. But touching her, actually fucking this chick could get me killed. I’ve seen Carter lose his shit for less.
“Tell me one thing,” I say, parting my legs a little and clasping my hands together in front of me.
“Anything,” she replies.
“Why me? Out of all the guys here tonight why did you single me out?”
“Because… you’re a challenge. You are the notorious Braxton Crawford and that got me interested. I want to know about the man behind the name.”
“I don’t play games.”
“Is it so bad that someone might actually be interested in getting to know the real you?”
“Believe me, darling, you don’t want to know the real me. I’m fucked up, so fucked up,” I repeat, lowering my voice. Leaning into her, my menacing look makes her shudder. “My mind is more fucked up then you could ever possibly imagine,” I talk through gritted teeth and watch as she widens her eyes. Her lips tremble and I can tell she’s scared, but also massively turned on. Her large, erect nipples are clear to see through her tank top.
“Even the most fucked up minds can have beautiful souls,” she says, pulling the corner of her lip between her teeth as she nervously waits for my reaction.
I let out a sarcastic laugh which causes her to jump a little. “Not this one, sweetheart.” I roll my neck, reaching for the lock and turning it. “I need a motherfucking drink,” I say with a huge sigh, exiting the closet and checking the hall. A few people are standing chatting but they don’t notice me. I walk through the hall and into the huge dining room which leads through to the outside area. Carter is out there, two girls on his lap, cigar in his hand. I swipe a bottle from the side and head straight outside.
“Here he is,” Carter bellows. “Move out of the fucking seat,” he instructs an unsuspecting brunette who immediately jumps out of the wooden chair. I stare at him, my eyes narrowed and my eyebrows drawn together. He questions the look on my face before pushing the two girls from his lap.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, taking a huge drag from the intense smelling cigar.
“Who the fuck is that girl? The one who claims to be your cousin?” I ask with a lift of my chin.
I watch as a slow grin spreads. “Oh, so you like? Let me guess, she got you intrigued, right?”
“Of course. My dick twitches at the fucking sheer sight of her. But, you know, she’s family, man,” I say leaning into him, nudging him with my elbow.
“And… it’s about time you found someone, Brax. It’s about time you let someone in.”
I hold the bottle of beer against my lips. “The fuck, man,” I grate out. “I don’t need you to set me up with girls. I don’t want a fucking relationship; I just want someone to fuck.”
“Look, you fucking do what you want; I just worry about you all the time. It’s like you have this huge void in your life, and I thought having someone would help fill that.” He flashes me a sympathetic smile, and I have to admit the asshole is right. “Tara is a good girl.”
“That void appeared when I Iost not only my best friend, but the girl that holds my heart. It isn’t something that can just be fucking filled, man.”
“Brax,” he raises his voice, clutching his fist together as I see the anger rise deep within him. “I was there. I fucking saw what happened. I fucking saved you,” he spits back.
“… and I owe you my life,” I slump back into the chair.
“It wasn’t fucking easy for me either. You aren’t the only one that bears the scars of what happened.”
“We all lost a piece of us that day,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it a little. “Why the fuck have we never found her?” I ask, feeling the anger inside me boiling over. “Why the fuck can’t the motherfucking private detective trace Izzy? Every damn week I meet with him, every damn week he has nothing, or a lead that goes nowhere. How is it possible for her to completely disappear from the face of the motherfucking earth?”
“Maybe it’s time for a new investigator, or we fuck him up until he does the job he’s fucking paid for,” Carter replies.
“I won’t let everything that happened to us that day be for nothing.”
“She’s gone, man. Just like Travis.”
“Fuck you,” I yell at him, standing up from my seat. “I’m not giving up on her. Not until I know for sure.”