Eluded (16 page)

I would have loved a family. A
beautiful wife and kids, and the opportunity to celebrate birthdays
and holidays with them. Every night I would kiss my children
goodnight after I tucked them in tight and ensured them no monsters
were under their beds. But as long as the monsters roamed the
streets of London, no children were safe . . . especially if they
were mine. Why even bring babies into this world if they wouldn't
be protected, or able to enjoy their childhoods and true innocence?
My specialty seemed to be taking people out of this life, not
helping create it.

I walked faster through the grass
until I hit a full sprint. The excess energy I had in my blood was
making me think mad thoughts. Sometimes I got like this. Being
twenty-seven years old and seeing everything that I've seen, as
much as I pretended it didn't matter, did something to a person. It
stole those little slivers of happiness and could-have-been's. When
this happened, I tended to slip into a dark place. Not depression
per se, but more of just reflecting on what I had done and
continued to do. I shouldn't have a fucking conscience after the
horrible things I've done, but every once in a while, it snuck up
on me. Guilt mixed with regret, and I’d say a little prayer in
hopes of forgiveness. But I knew I was past saving. I knew that I
would never have real relationships, and that little piece of
knowledge gnawed at me until I was raw inside.

"Let him go," I heard Liam say to
the others as I sprinted ahead of everyone. The kid knew and
understood me in ways that even I couldn't always comprehend. When
I got to the Range Rover, I sat inside and ran my fingers through
my hair. It wasn't supposed to be like this. My life wasn't
supposed to be like this. And if my sister would have never been
taken . . . it wouldn't have.

Liam slipped inside and gently
closed the door. I sped out of the gravel driveway, kicking up
rocks and dust in my wake. He looked out the window, and I said
nothing. Empty fields of grass were on either side of us as we
traveled for miles without passing a single vehicle. The others
followed close behind as we headed to the warehouse.

The silence didn't help drown out
my thoughts.

"I understand what you go through,
Abbot. I see the look in your eyes more often than not these
days."

I cut my eyes over at him, but he
continued to stare out the window. "Don't you ever wonder what it
would be like to leave it all? To just give it all up and start
over somewhere else?"

I stared at the road ahead, where
the high beams painted the pavement that seemed to go on and
on.

"Listen, kid. I've told you
several times that you can leave it all behind if you want. Nothing
is keeping you here."

"It's not me who thinks about it
when shit goes down, old man. It's you."

I forced out laughter. "I'm not
going anywhere, Liam. The only way I'm getting out of this is if I
die. That's a fact."

"That's not fucking true. You know
it isn't true. There are men who would continue to risk their lives
to protect you if you left. London isn't your goddamn burden. You
make it your obligation, when it isn't."

With a quick jerk of the wheel, we
were slipping and sliding on the gravel shoulder of the road.
Headlights behind me began slowing as I slammed on the gas and
veered back onto the pavement. Liam grabbed the handle on the door
to steady his body, then slammed the bottom of his fist on the
window.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"
he asked.

"Wake the fuck up, kid. I'm not
going anywhere."

He shook his head in
dissatisfaction at both my actions and my response to his words.
Maybe one day I would leave. Maybe one day I would start a family.
But it seemed that day wouldn't be coming anytime soon, and I
wouldn't stop until I had Derrick's head on a fucking
platter.

Liam let out a long breath and
then looked at me. "You know that girl we saved?"

"Ha, which one?"

"The one from last night. The one
I had to carry."

"Cindy? Or something like that?" I
asked.

"Her name is Claire."

I nodded my head once and waited
for him to speak after his long drawn out pause.

"I asked her on a
date."

All I could do was smile. "Good
job, kid. She was cute. When?"

"Tomorrow night. Do you think it
would be alright if—"

"Yes. And don't fuck it up. Wear
something nice. Put on some cologne and fix that shaggy hair. Say
nice things and don't be an arsehole."

He laughed. I suppose it was
funny, him taking advice from me, the master of fucking things
up.

"I don't plan on it. But she's so
pretty it makes me nervous as all get out. And what about you? That
girl . . . was she back there?"

"She wasn't. Don't know what
happened. Wish I did because there was something about her that I
liked. Maybe instant attraction or something. The color of her eyes
and dark red hair, the little freckles across her nose. But . . . I
didn't see her back there. Derrick may have already killed her.
Even more reason to slit his fucking throat." I had so much hatred
for Derrick that I could taste it.

"If she isn't dead, we will find
her," Liam said, as we pulled into the warehouse hangar.

LAUREN

Twenty-one

D
errick didn't bring me
back to the building with different-colored floors; instead, he
brought me to an elegant hotel with marble floors, tall ceilings,
and columns. The woman at the counter smiled and flirted with him.
As a warning to her, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled
me close.

Taken.
That was what he was
telling her.

I put on a pretty smile as she
slid the room keys across the counter. At times, I felt like I was
living in a fantasy where rules didn't exist. Derrick seemed to
create his own, in a world that he controlled, an illusory one at
that. When the elevator doors closed behind us, he grabbed my wrist
with a tight grasp.

"You did well at the restaurant.
Believable, almost. That was your fiancé, wasn't it?"

"Yes, and the woman he cheated on
me with."

"Cheated on you? That's
interesting, considering the stance he took against me." He pulled
me closer and wrapped his hand around my other wrist.

"Why would he cheat on
you?"

"Because he is a piece of
shit."

Derrick burst into a hefty laugher
and let go of my wrists. The instant attitude changes stirred the
most fear inside me. Anyone who could flip a switch as easily as
Derrick was dangerous, unstable even. Actions such as those forced
me to walk on eggshells, making sure not to make the wrong move or
say the wrong thing.

A couple entered the elevator, and
to make a show out of us, Derrick grabbed my face and kissed me. He
loved having people watch. He wanted the world to know what he had,
what he was in control of, and what he would end if needed to. I
kissed him back, but not as enthusiastically as he did. His tongue
brushed against mine, and I pretended it didn't happen.

The elevator stopped on our floor,
and he interlocked his fingers with mine, then led me between the
couple. All eyes had to be on him at all times. He loved being the
center of attention. By the way he responded to their reaction, I
believe he fed from it.

After sliding the key card into
the lock, he opened the door and allowed me to enter first, then
locked the door behind him as he smiled at me. If I were another
girl and him another man, the way he looked at me while he
unbuttoned his shirt might have been sexy. But it was far from
that. It was dominant; it was his way of telling me what would
happen. No words had to be exchanged between us for me to know his
plans.

His shirt fell to the floor and my
eyes drifted down his chiseled stomach to the hardness in his
pants. I swallowed as he removed the belt and wrapped it around his
fist. I stopped breathing at the prospect of what he would do to
me. Would he beat me? Tie me somewhere and leave me? As all the
horrible thoughts rushed through me, Derrick dropped the belt to
the floor and came to me.

"Shower." He pointed to the
bathroom, and I made my way there. I knew there was dried blood
from another woman on my skin, and I wanted to wash it away. I
needed to.

In the bathroom, his arm brushed
against mine when he reached over and turned on the water. The
steam rose from the bottom of the tub before he turned on the
shower. He gently removed the straps from my shoulders and slid the
dress to the floor. After my bra and panties were removed, he
placed his fingers under my chin so that I would look into his
eyes.

"You're deadly," he said, then
kissed my shoulder.

My heart dropped, because I
thought he would say you're dead but was glad he continued. I would
be deadly.

His lips trailed up my neck until
he nipped on my earlobe. "I'm sorry for all the wrong I've
done."

And though I knew it was a lie, I
wrapped my arms around his neck. Monsters didn't feel remorse or
pity. I wasn't stupid, but I'd play naive. "I forgive you," I
whispered, but I didn't.

He held out his hand for support
as I lifted my foot over the side of the tub. Once I was in the
shower, he entered and stood behind me, touching my skin as the
water rinsed away the memories of the night. I closed my eyes as he
washed me from my back, to my legs, and everywhere in between. Soap
suds ran down my body as he took his time cleaning me, like a
butcher cleaning his kill.

He turned me around so he could
finish washing me. By the sparkle in his eyes, he enjoyed how
submissive I was being to his touch. Any command he had, I would
follow, because if I didn't, he would kill me. I knew the
consequences and didn't want to find out which method he would use
to end it all.

"Your skin”—his fingers traced up
the sides of my arms—“it’s so soft." His lips kissed the top of my
breasts and trailed up my neck until he reached my mouth. His dick
was semi-hard, and the more he touched me, the more turned on he
became. After I was clean, he washed himself as he watched me
standing under the hot water. When he took a step forward to wash
his hair, his dick pressed against me, and I wanted to push him
away. A few more steps, and he pushed me against the wall. With a
swift movement, he placed his arms under my legs and lifted me up
into the air. With one hard thrust, Derrick was deep inside of me,
every long inch of him.

By instinct alone, I wrapped my
arms around his neck to steady myself. His hands grasped firmly
around my waist, and he began sliding in and out of me. A need to
fuck coursed through his veins. It was purely animalistic. Rough.
When I thought I would lose it, his movements became slow and
careful, and were coated with nothing more than his desire for me.
No matter how deep or how hard he fucked me, he couldn't get
enough, and for me, it couldn't end quickly enough. No matter how
much I moaned or how I faked myself through it, I knew deep down
inside how wrong the whole situation was. It shouldn't have to be
this way. I shouldn't be forced to have sex with a man who would
snap my neck in an instant. A man who killed for the sake of
killing, who disrespected women and treated them as property. I
wanted him to break me. I wanted to be lost and never be found. I
wanted to be dead.

Deeper and harder. He continued to
fuck me until the water turned ice cold. The whole experience was
exhilarating in a sense, because every time he rammed his cock
inside of me, I imagined the day that I would seek revenge against
him, the day that I would kill him for what he did to me. And as he
continued to pound my pussy, I realized that true hate did exist in
good people, and he was the man who would set the evil inside of me
free. I was convinced that Derrick was the devil.

When I began to shiver, Derrick
stopped, and we stepped out of the shower. He insisted on drying
every inch of me himself, to give him a chance to better admire my
body. My body that was a slave to his, he made sure to say. He knew
what he had. He knew the power that he held over me, and so many
others before me. I was nothing more than a pawn in a rigged game
that I was never supposed to win. No matter what, his intentions
were for me to lose at the game of life. But what he didn't realize
was that I was a sore loser. I was too competitive. He unlocked a
piece of me that made me stronger. With every touch, kiss, and
fuck, I became that much more determined to destroy him.

Derrick grabbed my hand and led me
to the bed where I was instructed to lay down. I couldn't help but
admire his body. Lean defined muscles and dark hair . . . he looked
like a Prince, like a man who could save me from darkness, even
though I knew that he
was
the darkness.

"Do you want me?" He stood with
his hands on his hips only a hint of that muscular V that led down
to his rock-hard dick.

"Yes," I said, knowing that he
wouldn't accept any other answer to that question. As Derrick
hovered above me, his dark hair fell into his face and he smiled
before bending down and grabbing my nipple between his teeth. Jolts
of pain coursed through me as he flicked the tip. Slowly this time,
he inserted himself inside me, causing my body to be void of all
emotions. Derrick once fucked me with hopes of breaking me, but
tonight I wanted to break him.