Dark Passion (The Dark Brother Series Book One) (4 page)

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

She frowns and takes my hand. “It’s not what you want, you’re in a dark place but it will get better…”

“Get outta there!” Jagger yells, snapping me out of my thoughts.

It’s
day eight and I’m in the bathroom, soaking in the soapless tub and refusing to acknowledge him. I smell so bad, I haven’t had soap since I’ve been here and I’m hoping the bath will soak some dirt out of my skin. It’s certainly not relaxing in any sense; in fact, it makes me feel a little ill. Jagger kicks the door a few times, and I sigh and get out of the bath. I wrap myself in a towel and walk over, opening it.

His eyes widen and his gaze drops down to my wet skin. Did Jagger just check me out? Did my kidnapper have a peek?
Seriously? Why is my heart fluttering at that thought? I must be crazy. It’s in my nature after all. I clear my throat and Jagger looks up to meet my glare. He smirks and leans against the door.

“Tryin’ to get the smell out?”

“Fuck off.”

His eyes widen and he
loses the smirk. “You’re cooking for me tonight, it’s about time you started earning your keep.”

“Earning my keep? Excuse me but I hardly made the decision to be here.”

“Well, while you are you can make yourself useful.”

“Aren’t you scared I might stab you?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Try your hardest, you’ll get five meters down the road and those men will be onto you.”

“
Whatever,” I mutter.

“Hurry up and get dressed.”

I turn and slam the door in his face, then quickly pull on my clothes. When I get out into the kitchen, he’s sitting at a bar stool reading. Seriously? What’s wrong with this picture? He’s sitting like we’re a couple and this is completely normal. Anyone who walked in this house right now wouldn’t see the real picture; they would just assume I was cooking for my boyfriend. How wrong they would be.

I open the fridge and pull out some chicken, luckily for him I can cook. I pull out mushrooms and tomato paste. I slam them down on
to the bench and Jagger raises his eyes from the paper he’s reading to glare at me. I give him a sarcastic smile and continue preparing my tomato chicken with mushrooms. He sits on that damn chair watching me, and I can feel his gaze burning into me.

“Smells good,
”

I turn and stare at him, shocked. “Thanks.”

“Do you cook all the time?”

I shrug. “Mostly I do it because I want to, not because I’m forced to.”

He snorts, “Touché.”

“So, tell me, do you make a habit of kidnapping girls?”

I look up at him as I’m slicing the chicken. His eyes actually fall on the knife and I’m sure he swallows. Uh oh, maybe he’s re-thinking this move.

“No, you’re the first.”

“Well, don’t I feel honored?”

“
It could be worse…”

“Tell me how?” I snap.

“I could have raped you, let my gang rape you, beat you, starved you…”

“Alright, I get the point.”

“I didn’t take you to hurt you.”

“
You say you didn’t intend on hurting me, but you already have!”

He frowns. “I
haven’t laid a damn hand on you.”

“You starved me
…your friend hurt me…you won’t let me shower…”

“Ok!”
He snaps, throwing his hands up. “I didn’t intend on being such a prick. Understand this though, my life is deadly and I do what I have to.”

“Oh believe
me; I know your life is deadly.”

“Then why do you defy me so often?”

“Is that what you want?” I say, putting the knife down. “You want me to fear you? Believe me, I do. I’m quite sure I know what you’re capable of and I don’t like it. I’m staying strong for myself, it isn’t to challenge you. I want to come out the other side of this with my sanity.”

He stares at me for long
moments and my cheeks heat under his gaze.

“How old are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said
how old are you?”

“Twenty Two,
”

“Anyone waiting back home for you?”

My cheeks heat again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when
you get out of here, will I have a stupid man show up and try to gut me…”

I snort. “I
f there was, I wouldn’t send him your way. Even I’m not that stupid.”

He grins. “You’re learning, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“No, Jagger, there isn’t anyone. There was but…it ended.”

He nods.

“Are you finished with the small talk now?”

He smirks
and I look away. This man has split personalities, I’m damn sure of it. I finish up the food and shove a plate towards him. He looks down at it, then back up at me. “This looks…better than I expected.”

“Well, I’m a good cook.”

He nods, and takes a spoonful. Did he just….moan? Oh God, I need to get out of here. Like now.

“I should go back to my room and die slowly, while you enjoy the food.”

“Sit with me.”

I stare at him with a no doubt horribly confused expression on my face. “Why the hell would I want to sit with you?”

“Eat with me or go to your room and starve,” he shrugs.

It’s a simple statement to him, but it’s a lot to me. I’ve
felt that gripping hunger and I don’t want to feel it again. I get a plate and sit down, nibbling on a piece of chicken.

“What happened with your
ex-boyfriend?”

I choke on the piece of chicken I was swallowing and stare up at him. “What
is it to you?”

“
Willow, it’s simple; talk with me or go back to the room and talk to the wall. I don’t give a shit either way, the choice is yours.”

God
he can be a pig, but I would rather stay out here a touch longer.

“He beat me.”

He drops his fork and I dare to peek up at him through my lashes. His face is wild and his blue eyes are wide and angry.

“He what?”

“You heard me,”

“How bad
ly?”

“Bad enough, I was in hospital for three days.”

“Fuckin’ bastard,”

“Like you can talk…
” I mumble.

“I would never EVER beat a woman I loved.”

“No, but you’d take a woman from her home and her life, to fulfill your own needs. It’s no better, Jagger.”

He’s silent a moment, and his eyes are focused inte
ntly on mine. “It might be no better, but I would NEVER lay a hand on you Willow.”

“You haven’t exactly been nice about the whole situation…”

“It could be worse.”

He’s right, it could be.

“Whatever.”

I finish my food, and pick up the plates and take them to the sink. I stare down at the knife, wondering if I could ever gain his trust enough to get hold of that and stab him with it. The t
hought of stabbing him hurts me though, and I hate that. A brief thought of stabbing myself flashes through my mind, and I quickly shove it back down. I can’t be that weak again. Not ever.

“I gotta go out, so back to your room.”
Jagger says from behind me.

I turn and walk off without acknowledging him. I walk into my room and sit at the desk. He walks in behind me and stands at the door, not saying anything for a long moment.

“I know you hate this situation, and I’m sorry you had to be put in the middle of it, but I can’t change what has to be. Thank you…for dinner.”

Then he’s gone again and I’m left feeling more confused than ever.

CHAPTER 5

Two long, dreadful weeks pass and the routine is the same. I get up, cook for Jagger, clean up and then go to my room. The funny thing is, I could have stabbed him so many times when preparing the meals, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I had a plan though, but I needed time. I couldn’t just run out there and stab them all; it wouldn’t work so well for me.

Even if I killed Jagger, I’d have to eliminate the rest to get away safely.
They were always around and I never got any time alone with Jagger these days. I needed his trust, at least enough to be alone with me. One day, when the men weren’t here, I would figure out a way to get rid of Jagger and get out. Then I’d run, I’d run so far they would never find me. There was no way in hell I was staying here. No way in hell.

I’m sitting in my room one afternoon
just staring out the window, when my door opens; I assume it’ll be Jagger. It’s not. Snake steps in and my throat tightens, this man has an evil streak. I stand quickly, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Get out there and cook for us, we’re hungry,” he snaps.

“Excuse me?”

He steps closer, and I step back. “You fuckin’ heard me, get out there and cook.”

“Where’s Jagger?”

“Fuck Jagger, he’ll be back soon.”

My heart seizes. At least with Jagger here, the other men don’t touch me. Only twice in the two weeks has he left me alone, but never with them. He just leaves me locked up and goes out for a day.

“Get out, or I’ll
take off my belt and enjoy bringing it across that pretty ass while you cook. In fact…take your shirt and pants off.”

“What?” I cry.

He steps forward and grips my shoulder, his fingers dig into my skin.

“Off now
or I’ll make you go naked.”

“No,” I whisper.

“What did you say?”

“I said no!”

He grips his belt and yanks it off, I try to scurry away but he pins me by the throat and shoves me face first onto the bed. He reefs my shirt up and I scream and twist but the man is strong. He brings the belt down over my back and I scream. I kick out, but I can’t connect with him. He crushes my face into the mattress and I can’t breathe, I’m going to pass out. He whips me again and again until my skin is broken and my screaming turns into strangled sobs.

“What the fuck!”

I hear Angel’s voice and suddenly Snake is being pulled off me and thrown into a nearby wall.

“You fuckin’ prick
Snake, Jagger’s going to flip!” Ace snarls.

“You fuckhead,” A
ngel growls.

“
Pull your fuckin’ shirt down and if you tell him about those marks, I’ll be back.” Snake snarls.

“Shut the fuck up Snake, and get out of here now!”
Angel growls, shoving him out the door.

Ace kneels in front of me and pulls my shirt down gently. I look away, tears streaming down my face. He says nothing else, he just leaves me alone. The
pain in my back is beyond anything I’ve ever felt, I can’t breathe, I can’t think. I’m terrified of Snake, so I stand and weakly walk out, my heart racing. If I don’t cook as planned, Jagger will know something is up. I can’t risk Snake’s anger if I don’t do as he asks.

I go to the fridge, avoiding Snake’s deadly gaze, and pull out some ingredients to make Spaghetti. I’m swallowing rapidly to keep from throwing up. My eyes are stinging from my salty tears and I’ve bitten my lip so hard I can taste
blood. I chop the onions, but God, I’m in so much pain. I hear Jagger’s voice and I peer over my shoulder and see him walking up the stairs.

“What’s goin’ on here?” he asks.

“Nothin’ boss. She just offered to cook for us.”

He gives the men a look, then narrows his eyes and stares at me. I force a weak smile, after catching
Snake’s warning glare. I continue cooking, and when the men retreat downstairs for beers, I get an idea. When they’re gone, I turn and start rummaging through the cupboards. Tonight is my night; I have to get out of here. I can’t take it anymore. Soon, I’ll go crazy.

I dig through the medicine cupboard, come on, please. YES! I find a jar of laxatives
. I walk over to the simmering sauce on the stove and pour the whole bottle in. I take a tiny taste, to make sure it’s not too obvious, but the garlic and tomato rule it out. I serve quickly after that, but not before tucking a knife into my pants. I have to do this; I have to be quick and witty about it. Those men will be down and out, and will leave. Then, I’ll get Jagger out of the way.

I think about Jagger, and I can’t help t
hat my heart hurts. It’s stupid I know and I think I have a case of Stockholm syndrome. While he’s been hard on me, we’ve had moments where our conversation nearly seemed normal. There are times he’s even looked like he might smile when he hears me singing, or I smart mouth him. Though he’s kept me captive and I smell like a rat, he’s never hurt me.

Voices drifting
up the stairs cause me to snap back to reality. When the six men appear, I continue stirring the sauce. This could go my way, or it could go really….really bad. I serve the food, keeping my head down. Jagger walks over just as I’m dusting parmesan cheese over the meals. He puts his hand on my back and I flinch, wincing.