Bound by Lies: Bound #1 (Adult Romantic Suspence) (18 page)

“Aw, miss. You look beautiful. But why is you mad?” His face
drops as I continue to glare at him. Did he help do that to Winston?

Inside the limo we are both silent for a time. I can see
Garfield fidgeting out of the corner of my eye as I fume looking out of the
tinted windows. I can sense his discomfort. He’s not sure how to handle my
anger.

“Is you mad at me, miss?” he finally asks. “I don’t know
what I done.”

I snap my face towards him and study his features for a
second. “Tell me the truth, Garfield. Did you hurt Winston?”

He frowns and I only see confusion on his face. “Winston,
miss? I is not so good with names.”

“Winston is my friend from university. He was beaten up by
someone recently.”

Garfield shakes his head. “No, miss. I did not hurt
Winston.”

I have come to know Garfield as a simple man with very
little ability to manipulate or lie. I believe him when he says that he didn’t
hurt Winston. I sigh and reach over to give him a hug. His large hands are remarkably
soft for a man his size. They close around me, eclipsing my shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Garfield. You’re a good man. I should have known
better than to believe that you would actually hurt someone just because Jacob ordered
you to.”

I feel his hands tense against me. I pull back and I catch
the snippet of some emotion on his face. But we pull up at the front of Jacob’s
building and I don’t have an opportunity to ask him what that look meant.

As I ride the elevator up to the top floor, Snake’s face comes
to mind. It must have been Snake. Yes, hurting Winston would have taken someone
whose moral compass was as messed up as Snake’s. Yes, I can see Snake doing
something like that. Maybe it was just Snake. Maybe Jacob had nothing to do
with it.

Maybe I am just making excuses for my boyfriend…

“Did you have anything to do with what happened to Winston?”
I demand.

Jacob stops crossing the living room of his luxury apartment
towards me and stares at me coldly. “Is that any way to greet the love of your
life?”

The ice in his voice coats my skin and makes me want to
shiver. All I think is that he didn’t deny it. I know that he was involved, if
not the physical cause of Winston’s injuries.

“I can’t believe that you would do that to another living
person.”

Jacob shrugs his shoulders, looking like he is trying to
relax his body, but I can see his jaw twitching. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Jacob looks up at Snake and Garfield and another one of his
goons, all of whom I’m vaguely aware are standing about the room in an awkward
silence.

“Get out,” he commands them. Jacob glares at me when he
continues, “I want to speak to my
woman
,
alone.”

I try to keep my breath steady as I watch the three men slip
out of the room. This is Jacob, I remind myself. My Jacob. I shouldn’t be
scared of him.

So why is my heart hammering like a crazed beast against the
cage of my ribs? Why is every muscle in my body screaming for me to run?

Jacob’s eyes are black pits as he stares at me. He makes no
move to comfort me. “That fucker needed to learn who you belong to.”

My next inhale gets stuck in my throat, choking me. Jacob
had Winston hurt. Because of me.

“Oh my God,” I hear myself gasp. And I wait for me to wake
up. For this to be some sort of messed up dream. But this isn’t a dream.

“I did it for you, princess.”

I shake my head and I start to back away from him as he
approaches, stalking me like I am prey.

“No. No, you didn’t do it for me. I would have never, ever
asked you to do something as horrible as to beat the living shit out of someone
for me. I saw him, Jacob. I saw what you did.”

Jacob lunges for me. My instincts take over and I turn to
run. But he grabs me before I can reach the door. “Nobody touches you except
for me. No-fucking-body, you hear me?”

“You’re crazy,” I say, and my voice is breaking along with
my heart and my faith in our love. “You’re fucking crazy.”

The slap across my cheek burns like fire. I curl away,
holding my cheek. The man I love has just hit me.

“Take that back,” he demands.

“Take it back? I’ll take it back. I can’t be with you
anymore.” I know that these were the wrong words to say as soon as I’ve said
them. I can almost hear his heart crackling like ice as it freezes over.

“No.” His fingers snake into my hair and pull my head back
so I am forced to face him. “You are mine. You will always be
mine
.”

He shoves me towards the center of the living room. I trip
on the rug and almost fall. He opens the door a slip and says something to the
guys outside. When I turn Jacob is standing at the door like he’s guarding it.
His face is stone and I don’t recognize this man who is staring back at me with
a scowl marking his face. I realize with a shudder that he doesn’t plan on
letting me leave.

I could beg. Every instinct inside me urges me to beg him.

But I don’t. It’s useless to beg, but even worse, begging
will make me seem weak in Jacob’s eyes. And the last thing I want to do is
appear weak. Jacob will chew “weak” up and spit it out. I have to find some
other way out of here.

Behind him the door opens and Snake and Garfield come back
in. The third goon I know as Salt appears holding a wooden box in his hands and
wearing rubber gloves. Oh fuck. My eyes dart around the room. There’s the
balcony, but the only way out of here that way is down. Maybe I could bluff
them?

I run for the glass door that separates the living room from
the balcony. Jacob doesn’t even move when I start to run. I just hear him sigh,
an impatient sigh of someone who is waiting for me to learn my lesson. I
understand when I reach the door and grab at the handle. It’s locked. The
goddamn thing is locked. I have no way out.

I turn and press against the glass. Jacob glares at me with
disapproval marking his face. Snake looks amused and I can see him licking his
thin lips as if he is tasting my fear. Salt places the wooden box on the table
and opens it. But the lid is blocking my view of whatever is inside. Only
Garfield looks distressed.

“I’m sorry, princess. But it looks like you need to learn to.”

“Jacob, whatever you are going to do, you don’t need to do
it. I’m yours, Jacob. I know that. You know that.”

He shakes his head. “You just tried to run away from me,
little lamb. It has to be done. Hold her,” he commands Snake. Snake grins as he
lunges for me. I dart aside and slam into Garfield’s large body. His hands
close gently around my shoulders.

It’s Garfield
.
Garfield will help me.
I look
up at him and plead with my eyes. But Garfield won’t look at me. He won’t look
at me, which means he’s already feeling guilty about what is going to happen to
me.

Jacob’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “I’m sorry,
princess, but this is going to hurt.”

My body goes cold. I feel almost like my limbs don’t belong
to me anymore. They feel detached and they are moving of their own accord,
struggling and pushing at the unmovable mountain of a man who is holding me.
Jacob’s words are muffled in my ears when he orders Garfield to hold me down,
face down over the arm of the couch.

“No, Garfield, please.” I plead with the large man with my
eyes and my tears. They are falling like rain down my cheeks and staining my
dress. But he still won’t look at me. I can see the conflict flashing in
Garfield’s eyes. If I can just get through to him. If only…

“Now, Garfield.” Jacob’s voice is a warning. At the sound,
the softness in Garfield’s eyes falters.

“I’m sorry, miss,” Garfield whispers in my ear as he pulls
at my arms and hoists me over to the couch.

I pull back and my heels scratch across the wooden floor,
but it doesn’t slow me down. I feel my body being tipped over and the sensation
of losing firm ground is too much, it tips my mind over the edge along with my
body. With my ass in the air I feel so exposed. The first scream tears from my
lungs. Someone pushes my face into the couch to muffle the noise. The cushions
smell freshly laundered and the smell makes me feel sick.

I struggle to push myself up, but Garfield is too strong.
“Just relax, miss, and it won’t have to hurt as much,” he says quietly, almost
kindly, in my ear. His pity makes my already twisted stomach tighten.

I feel the air swirl around my thighs as my skirt is pushed
up to my waist. I scream out again but only manage to choke myself on the couch
cushion. I bite down as my underwear is shoved aside to bare my ass. My cheeks
heat as I feel all those eyes on my private places. I taste blood in my mouth
and I realize I have bitten down on my tongue. No. No. This can’t be happening.

How could Jacob do this to me? How? He loves me. He’s
supposed to love me. This is wrong. So wrong. I squeeze my eyes shut. And try
to block out as much of myself as possible. I try to hide within myself. I
brace and my muscles lock as if it could keep everything out.

I sense someone behind me. Hands on my ass send a burning
flush across my skin, holding me, crushing my integrity, marking my flesh
forever. No, he can’t just take it. It’s supposed to be mine to give. Mine. If
he takes that too, I’ll have nothing left. Nothing.

Just relax and it won’t have to hurt as much.

But I can’t relax. I can’t. If I relax it means that I have
accepted what is about to happen. And I won’t accept it. Never. No fucking way.

One last surge of energy rushes through me and I scream and
I thrash and I buck against the hands that hold me down. For a second my body
feels the hands relenting against my movements and I get the splinter of hope
that I might have gotten myself free. Until the hands regain their grip on me.
All hope is dashed as I am buried back into these pillows as soft and
suffocating as sand.

“Stop moving.” I recognize Salt’s voice. “Or the tat will
look like shit.”

What?

There is a cold feeling of something being swabbed on my
skin and I smell alcohol. I flinch as something pointed begins to draw on me.

I am not about to be raped. I am going to be tattooed. Jacob
is having me tattooed. I already know what the tattoo is. It’s the crest that
Jacob has tattooed on his shoulder blade. His crest, which I have seen on his
stationary and the napkins on his nightclub and the sign above the doors of the
businesses he owns.

I hear a buzzing noise and the feel of gloved fingers
against my ass. Then it begins. It stings, but it is nothing like the squeezing
pain in my chest. Jacob is marking me. Branding me. Like cattle. My chest
squeezes with pain. How can someone who loves me do this? How can I love
someone who could do this to me? How? What is wrong with me?

I don’t know how long I lie there, but the sting turns to a
numbness after a while. I can smell the thick cloy of cigar smoke. I know it is
Jacob and his stupid smelly cigars. He is sitting there smoking, no doubt
paired with an expensive cognac, while his goons are branding my naked ass like
a fucking animal. I am out of tears now. The hot anger that swirls in my belly
has dried them up.

Finally the buzzing shuts off. My ass is cleaned off.

“Good,” I hear Jacob say from behind me. A bandage is
applied and my skirt pulled back down. “Now, get the fuck out. And stop looking
at my girlfriend’s ass, all of you. Your job here is done.”

All the hands leave me and I am freed. I crawl over the arm
of the couch and curl into a ball on the cushions. I hear the door click shut.
And I feel the room devoid of all other presence, except for Jacob. I feel the
cushion near my head depress.

“Sit up,” he commands. I almost stay in my ball just to
spite him, but Jacob speaks again. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

I shudder at the coldness of his voice. With lead arms I
push myself to sitting and I back up as far as possible away from this
stranger. This stranger wearing Jacob’s skin. Who is this man? What has he done
with the man that I love? Where is Jacob?

Then I realize this is Jacob, the real Jacob. I know it. I
can sense the way this persona fits him better than the sexy, charming Jacob
who seduced me. His eyes were always soulless black vortexes like they are now,
they were just dressed up in charm and a wicked smile.

Jacob lashes out faster than I can comprehend, grabbing my
face before I can turn away. He leans in, his breath stinking of smoke, the
scent mixing with the odor of alcohol and blood coming from my body like a
sickly perfume. His fingers are hard claws digging into my jaw, but his voice…
his voice is soft and tender.

“You understand, don’t you, baby? Why I have to mark you. So
that everybody knows. So that everybody knows that you’re mine and if they fuck
with you then they fuck with me. It’s for your protection, baby. Your
protection.” Soft and tender. It terrifies me. “Because I love you, you know
that, don’t you?”

My instincts are crying for me to run, but my heart is
breaking because it wants to stay and be comforted by the man I love. What is
wrong with me? How can I still want to be comforted by the man who just hurt
me?

“Tell me you know that I love you!” he screams, his body
shaking visibly from the force with which he shouts. My teeth rattle as his
hands shake me violently.

“I know that you love me,” I whisper. Part of me so wants to
believe this. It wants to so badly.
He did this for me. Because he loves me.

“And you love me, don’t you, baby?” he says.

“Yes.”

“Say it, then.”

His face blurs behind my tears – it is one small mercy.

“I love you.” I almost choke on these words. They taste
bitter like poison.

I hate that I do. I still love Jacob.

The present

I don’t stop running until I get home and my deadbolts are
on. I drop my bag and run to my bedside table. I pull out my gun. The cold
steel on my fingers is like a key that unlocks this dam. The numbness floods
over me. I slide into a crumpled heap on the floor next to my bed. I am shaking
and my teeth are chattering. I start to cry and rock and I tuck my arm around
my knees. Silent tears. I don’t dare make a noise. My ears are pricked,
listening for someone at my door.

I have never felt so weak and helpless in my life. Because
all the training, the workouts, the boxing, and all my time spent at the gun
range isn’t worth shit. Because just seeing Jacob’s photo still makes me
crumble. All the strength that I’ve built is nothing but scaffolding –
superficial, and it won’t hold me up when Jacob comes to tear it down. And he
will find me. Eventually. I know it.

He won’t stop till he finds me.

Because I belong to him. And he doesn’t let anything that
belongs to him get away.

I had the tattoo removed as soon as I could. But now my ass
burns where he marked me that day. Oh God. It has returned. It has come back.
The mark carved forever under my skin has come back to the surface. Somehow the
mark will give Jacob a way to find me.

I yank my pants down and strain my neck to look back but I
can’t see. I can’t see. I need to see. I push myself up to my feet, still
clutching my gun to my chest. The steel is cold against my skin, but I leave it
there because I feel like it anchors me. The steel anchors me. It lets me know
what’s real. I bolt to the bathroom, my heart beating so hard, I swear the gun
is bouncing up and down with it.

“You understand, don’t you, baby? Why I have to mark you.
So that everybody knows.”

I stand in front of the full-length mirror behind my door.
Who is this girl with round red-rimmed eyes staring back at me? It can’t be me.
I buried her. I turn to the side and pull down one side of my pants. I see the
black ink across my skin. No, it can’t have come back. I scream and a hand
flies towards my mirror. My hand. It punches the glass and it cracks into a
spider’s web. Pain flares across my knuckles.

I blink. And a hundred eyes blink back at me. But my ass is
bare. All of them. Bare and milky white. There’s nothing there. Nothing there.
A small cry of relief escapes me. This resurfacing fear is making me hallucinate.
Then I start to laugh. Hysterical laughter. Ha ha, I have finally gone mad, I
know it. 

Or perhaps the madness has always been there, underneath,
hiding, since the night I finally, finally left Jacob…