Explicit Instruction (3 page)

Flick had given up her attempts
to hear what was going on outside this room. Voices came and went; they got louder then dimmed; voices laughed then growled, jeered and joked. It went on for hours.

At l
east she’d assumed it was hours. With her hands restrained against the pipe, Flick couldn’t see her watch. Not that it would matter, because there was no light but for the slither glowing under the door.

Everything had happened so fast. Flick replayed events over in her mind, trying to figure out how she had found herself here. From being on that street dwelling on her crappy day, to here, alone in this small room, waiting for her
jailer to return.

Rushe hadn’t harmed her physically but Flick couldn’t be sure that would last. For all she knew they were out there g
etting drunk, waiting to attack her when they all got up the courage. But men like those in that back room at Dell’s didn’t need an excuse to assault a woman, they’d been willing to do it since they set eyes on her. Rushe hadn’t. He had tried to warn Flick against going into that bar. Flick had never been known for toeing any line. Perhaps she entered Dell’s in defiance of Rushe’s request. That did sound like something she’s do, once again her stubbornness had got her into trouble.

But the how didn’t matter, she was here now. Here in this isolated shack, with at least five men, and the only thing that had prevented her from being harmed
further was Rushe. His motivation was unclear, and he hadn’t given Flick any details of his intentions, all she could do was wait. Hope didn’t linger in her, if she had believed that kicking and screaming, and raising bloody hell would liberate her then she would do it. But Rushe had warned her against it. Flick didn’t want to piss off the only thing that stood between her and the depraved animals who had tethered her to the bed in Dell’s.

Her body grew heavy. Her feet were cold and her legs had fallen asleep from the hardness of the b
are boards beneath her rear. Flick’s hands had long since gone numb and the weight of the night settled on her, so her eyes began to drift closed.

Just when the exhaustion was about to overcome her footfalls came closer and the door opened.
She squinted into the burst of light that died when the door closed again. There was one step, then a squeak of the bed.

Unexpectedly light
flooded the space dazzling her. But she couldn’t raise her hand to shield her eyes, so she blinked into it. When Flick lifted her head she saw that the light came from a lamp on top of the drawers. Rushe sat there on the bed with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped, just looking at her.

The harsh line of his brow intimidated
, but his mid-length thick dark brown hair was wild, finger-combed and curled over his ears. While it needed a wash it looked butter soft. The stubble on his jaw was more than a couple of days of growth. But his colouring and rough look was nothing in the ferocity of his black-as-night eyes. The longer he sat there looking at her the more self-conscious Flick became.

‘What are you looking at?’ she asked.

‘How old are you?’ Again his lips never moved.

‘Fifteen if it
makes a difference.’

‘It doesn’t.’

‘I’m twenty-seven, are you going to let me go now?’

‘No,’ he said
, still studying her.

‘Where are we?’

‘Far away from everything.’

The noise from beyond that door had died down and she hoped the others had left but she knew she wasn’t that lucky.

‘What are you going to do with me?’ she asked. ‘You told me what the others were into. Are you going to turn me out to them when you’ve had your way?’

‘Are you going to behave?’

‘I’ve been quiet, just like I said I would be. Please tell me what you’re going to do.’ When she blinked hot moisture rolled over her lashes.

‘Don’t do that,’ he said
, almost wincing.

‘Do what?’ she asked as another sob shook her throat. ‘Please, I want to go home!’

With blurred vision and a gasping sob she dropped her face to her knees. Reality had become unbearable, each hair on her skin shuddered.              

Decisions she’d made in her life jumped throug
h her mind and she had regret. Things she hadn’t considered for years she rethought, wishing she’d done things differently, and now she wouldn’t have a chance.

Flick hadn’t heard him move, all she was aware of
was the clench around her heart. The weight in her chest came with the knowledge that her life was going to be brutally cut short.

Then someone touched the back of h
er head. Raising her face from her knees she saw him seated on the floor right in front of her. As more tears escaped, he tucked her hair away, and shifted closer to gather her into his arms.

Much as she knew this man was to b
e feared, the strength in his hold and the stability of his chest gave her a security that she needed to lean on. He held her body against his, offering comfort without taking advantage, or copping a feel.

Flick’s
tears dried. Falling apart in the embrace of a stranger wasn’t something she’d do. But the shock of his gentle, unfamiliar act wasn’t the reason for her upset vanishing. For some reason he actually made her feel better. These arms if used for good would be formidable.

‘Are you going to have sex with me?’ she asked
, resting her weight against him.

‘No,’ he said
, and the vibration of bass in his chest rumbled through her. ‘But it will be in your interest to let Skeeve and the others think otherwise.’

‘Why?’

‘Because if they think I’m doing you they’ll leave you alone... do you want them to touch you?’

‘Of course not,’ she said
, shaking her head. ‘Why can’t you let me go?’

‘I was serious about there being nothing around here for miles. You wouldn’t get far. These men are into serious things. I can’t guarantee
that you’re going to get out of this.’

‘You’re not like them, are you?’

In an instant he let her go and got back onto his feet. ‘You better not get comfortable, Red,’ he said. ‘You walked right into the snake pit. Don’t trust anyone. Everyone here has an agenda.’

‘What’s your agenda?’

Producing a pocketknife, he cut through her bonds. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘No,’ she said.

The socks he’d threatened her with earlier lay on the bed until he grabbed them up and lobbed them at her.

‘Put those on, it gets cold in here.’

‘Where are we?’ she asked, rubbing the blood back into her legs.

‘Get up and walk,’ he said. ‘You’ll cramp.’

While this sounded like a suggestion, he snatched her, and yanked her up to her feet. ‘You haven’t spent much time around people, have you?’

She shouldn’t sass the man who held her captive
, but it didn’t matter because just as he’d ignored her questions, he ignored her statement. Rushe retrieved a dark red and black flannel shirt, which he threw at her.

‘Put that on.’

Her extremities were still tingling with the cramp he’d warned her of, but she managed to catch the items. ‘I...’

‘Take off the dress,’ he said
, dropping onto the bed to unlace his boots.

‘What? But you... you said—‘

‘Take it off,’ he said, kicking his boots off.

When he stood up he turned his back on her
, and it took Flick a moment to realise that he was giving her privacy, he respected her modesty.

Not wanting to miss the window she unzipped her dress and let it drop while stuffing her arms into the soft material of his shirt.

It smelled clean, and masculine, something in it gave her refuge. The sleeves hung down well past her hands and the length reached her knees. Despite not wearing underwear, this garment actually gave her more cover than her own clothes had.

At the same time she bent to pick up her dress he turned and snatched it away from her. His reason for doing so was no clearer to her when he ripped the silk, then
flung it aside.

‘Why did you...?’

‘Do you want to have sex?’

‘No!’

‘Then you weren’t going to strip down willingly for me.’

Tearing the dress as he would have to if he was going to force himself on her. ‘You want them to think... why would you want them to think
that you’re a rapist?’

‘Street cred,’ he grumbled and whipped off his tee-shirt.

Flick froze to the floor at the sight of his torso, his broad chest and washboard abs. In all of her experience with men she had never seen such a perfect specimen. Every sinewy inch of him was toned, his muscular stance was lean but powerful, and her temptation to touch, to see if he was real, had her transfixed.

‘Get on the bed.’

‘What?’ she asked, snapping out of her trance.

‘Get on the bed,’ he said
, retrieving some twine from a drawer.

‘But, I don’t—‘

‘There are two other rooms like this one,’ Rushe said. ‘The other guys sleep out there. If you run you’ll meet them on your way out.’

Grabbing her arm he began to bind her wrist. ‘What are you doing?’

‘If you fight against this it will cut you, and you don’t want an open wound out here. Infection’s a certainty,’ he said tying the twine. ‘Come.’

Using the twine
leash now on her wrist Rushe led her to the bed. When he leaned to the far corner Flick fell on the bed, and he tied the other end of the twine to the metal bedpost.

‘Why are you binding me?’

‘I don’t want to look for you in the woods when you do something stupid. If those guys get hold of you you’re on your own.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t get any false ideas,’ he said. ‘If you become a nuisance they can have at you.’

‘Why
did you stop them?’

Rushe gave her a shove toward the far corner
, and she scrambled out of the way when he dropped onto the bed. On his side, he turned off the lamp and kept his back to her. Briefly, he punched at the wafer thin pillow, before he folded his arms with a grunt.

‘Get some sleep.’

Flick slithered down onto her side on the bed at his back. She didn’t have much space but keeping herself tucked away, she managed to prevent them from touching. Tears burned her sinus’ again.

The more that was revealed of her saviour, the more questions she had. Her tears receded as she pondered the perplexity. He’d comforted her, then he’d bound her. He’d given her privacy, then demanded her submission. Rushe was a contradiction in so many ways.

Flick wondered if he’d let her understand where they were, and what was happening... and what her fate might be.
But he hadn’t answered questions, and she doubted that would change.

Being bound to the metal bedpost w
as awkward on her wrist, and Flick imagined sleep would be allusive. But at least for now she was out of harm’s way, and in this situation that was the most she could hope for.

With th
ere being no windows in the room, morning couldn’t intrude upon them. But the shack must have awoken because something made Flick stir. The woodsy smell mingled with a musky something she couldn’t identify.

B
ut in the mumbling of her dream-soaked mind she wriggled into the warmth that encircled her. This fog was comfy and cosy and she’d be happy to stay in it for a while.

Except on another sigh something vibrated against her chest. The hard bed that heated her seemed to be gr
umbling. On opening her eyes Flick realised her bed was breathing. Hot, humid breath clouded her hair and the memory of last night smashed into her.

Trying to shove up
ward, her arm stalled against the post he’d tied her to. Flattening her palm on his naked pectoral she pushed up from her base, snagging her hair on his stubble where her head had been snug under his chin.

Flick
was on top of him, their bodies chest to chest. Rushe’s eyes were closed, so she figured he was still asleep. But with him on his back, taking up all of the bed space, and her restrained Flick couldn’t slip off of him; there was nowhere for her to go. His arms were heavy and strong around her. One of his hands twined through her hair on the back of her skull.

The other han
d was under the shirt Flick wore. The apparel had been shoved out of the way to allow his large hand to palm her buttock. It rested there with entitlement. If she was offended she quickly got over it when she felt what was under her, pressing into her abdomen; thick and long, and hard. The daunting lump could only be one thing, and it made her eyes water. If he forced that on her, or any woman, she’d be split in two.

Trying desperately to stay still Flick became hyperaware of every breath. The deeper she inhaled the farther that
intruding, pulsing wood beneath her became. Flick’s experience with men was limited. She wouldn’t for a second consider herself worldly. In her first life – which was the life she’d left when her parents cast her out – men were careful. Or maybe they weren’t that worldly themselves.

Having two older
sisters meant Flick was used to being in shadow. Both of her sisters were gregarious and had the attention of the playboys who came to the Country Club. Her parents turned a blind eye to any dalliances in their younger days, and both women fell into line when their father deemed it time.

Lucia married Roger
Willis three years ago, and when Flick last saw them Vivian had been engaged to Martin Schifford. Both men were now executives in their father’s firm. Despite how things had ended she thought about her family every day. The disappointment she’d caused them all hung like a lead weight around her neck.

Knowing that this situation she found herself in now was enough to be dealing with Flick told herself not to revisit that past pain. Thinking about what had happened was difficult enough without having to acknowledge the fact that she’d likely never see any of them again. Flick wouldn’
t have the chance to get her grievances off her chest, and she wouldn’t have any time to make amends.

Thus
far a truce had been impossible because her family wouldn’t acknowledge their own fault in the circumstances. The only concession they’d been interested in was Flick’s, and it was only when she refused for a final time that all ties between them had been cut.

Her
shack mattress grumbled and sucked in a breath, raising her up, and digging that lump further into her. As Flick thought about her family, she’d been relaxed, considering the issue, stroking her hand up and down his muscled flesh. With another mutter, Flick was thrown aside and he sprang out of bed. Rushe stretched and strode out of the room without a word.

The cold he’d warned her of seeped in
, and the twine nipped at her wrist. Using her one free hand Flick tried to shift it out of the furrow it had created in her skin. But she couldn’t move it so she went to work on the bedpost except she had no luck loosening it from there either.

After at least ten minute
s of trying Flick gave up... until she caught sight of the drawers next to the bed. Reaching for the top one she shoved socks and tee-shirts and other useless items like gum and deodorant aside trying to find something that could cut the twine.

She grazed cold metal and
paused; pushing a tee-shirt from the item Flick saw a gun. Letting her fingers slide over the textured surface of the grip she picked it up, and was surprised by the weight of the object.

The door opened
, startling her. The gun was now set in her hand. Rushe lowered the towel he’d been using to dry his hair and shoved the door closed at his back.

‘What do you plan to do with that?’ he asked.

He threw the towel into the corner on top of her discarded dress. ‘Let me go,’ she said trying to stop the weapon from shaking in her hand.

‘’Kay,’ he said producing a knife from his jeans pocket.

The line of hair that descended from his navel disappeared into his unbuttoned jeans, and for some reason it occurred to Flick that she hadn’t seen any underwear in the drawer, which meant he couldn’t be wearing any.

Rushe
came toward her with the knife, but her new clarity stuck in a mental groove and with a swift knock on her wrist the gun was gone and somehow in his grip.

The speed of his m
anoeuvre left Flick’s head spinning. She sat back on her haunches, somehow not surprised by his surprising action.

‘What’s your boyfriend’s name?’ Rushe asked
, sticking the gun back in the drawer then buttoning his jeans.

‘What?’ she asked. ‘I threaten you with a gun
, and that’s your question?’

‘You didn’t threaten me
, Red,’ he said. ‘You didn’t do much of anything. What’s his name?’

‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why would you ask me that?’

‘’Cause when we’re through here I’m gonna pay him a visit.’

‘A visit? Why would—‘

‘He’s got no sense sending his woman out into the world—‘

‘His woman?’ she asked.

‘You could’ve helped yourself,’ he said. ‘That, with the gun, what was that?’

‘I—‘

‘You’ve been threatened with sexual and physical harm,’ he said, opening the drawer and pulling out the gun again. He thrust it into her hands and fell to his knees at the side of the bed.

‘What are you—‘

Rushe grabbed the barrel and brought it to his forehead. ‘Shoot,’ he said. ‘Shoot me, take the guys out there by surprise, kill them, find the truck keys, and get the hell out of here.’

‘You want me to kill you?’

‘When I came through that door you should’ve shot first and asked questions later.’

‘But... but I...’ Rushe still held the barrel but the shaking in her hands increased.

‘You can’t do it,’ he said shoving the gun aside with disgust. ‘Your life is in danger. You pull the trigger; don’t think about it. Do you know how dangerous the knowledge you’ve just given me is? You can’t defend yourself. I can do whatever the hell I want with you.’

Snagging a tee-shirt from the drawer
, he tossed the gun back to its place. When Rushe put on his shirt Flick was hit with a barb of disappointment that his body was no longer on show for her.

‘You’ve been nice to me,’ she whispered and he immediately stopped.

‘What?’

‘You haven’t threatened me,’ she said. ‘If I shot you I’d lose my only ally here.’

‘I’m not your ally,’ he said. ‘I told you not to be a nuisance.’

When he began to move h
er hand shot out to catch his jeans pocket, which stalled him. ‘I won’t hurt you,’ she said. ‘You haven’t hurt me.’

‘I tied you up
.’

‘For my own good,’ she said. ‘You said it yourself that your colleagues are out there.’

‘If I had stopped you going into that bar—‘

‘
You blame yourself. That’s why you’ve been looking after me.’

‘I told you not to trust anyone.’

‘You’ve given me no reason not to trust you,’ she said.

‘I woke up this morning molesting you.’

‘Is that why you stormed out of here?’ she asked. ‘You were asleep. There was no harm done. I was the one on top of you. Do you want me to apologise?’

Rushe
lunged down to grab her chin and forced her face up to within an inch of his. The manoeuvre stretched her limb sending a stinging pain from her imprisoned wrist up through the rest of her arm.

‘What the fuck do I have to do to you? I’m dangerous. You’re in a lot of trouble here
, Red. You better watch yourself, or I’ll throw you out there.’

‘But you wouldn’t hurt me yourself,’ she said. ‘If you were going to let them have me you
’d have done it already... that’s why I trust you.’ Rushe said nothing. ‘Do you know how dangerous the knowledge you’ve just given me is?’

‘You’re coming out of here to get some food,’ he said
, choosing not to respond to her statement.

‘Out?’ she said
, tensing and regretting her sass. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t—‘

‘You’re not being punished,’ he said. ‘You can’t stay in here. You need to eat... unless you want to starve?’

‘Couldn’t you bring something in?’

‘I’m no waiter and this is no hotel.’

Rushe leaned in to slash her restraints. As soon as she was free he hauled her to her feet and unwound the twine. ‘It hurts,’ she said.

‘I told yo
u not to fight it,’ he said, chucking the twine to the floor. ‘Why don’t you do what you’re told?’

‘I was sleeping.’

With her in his grip Rushe pulled her to the door. ‘Do not talk to anyone,’ he ordered. ‘You speak only to me and only when spoken to.’

‘But—‘

‘Consider this free advice that will keep you alive. All of them will touch and taunt. As far as they’re concerned, we’ve been in here all night fucking. You are my bitch.’

‘Touch?
’ she asked.

‘You’re going to eat, sit quietly, and do exactly what you’re told, understand?’

That might have been a question, but Rushe didn’t wait for a response. He dragged her out of the closest thing she’d had to a safe space in this shack and straight into the lion’s den.

Starvation was a preferable option when she saw what was outside that
bedroom. The space was a tee shape with the long top part fronting the shack. A couch and a pulled out sofa bed were at one side of the space, on the other side was a TV on a cardboard box with a few other chairs next to an empty fireplace.

Another door stood next to their bedroom one, with another two flanking the other side of the downward part of the tee, which she saw now was a ramshackle kitchen
dominated by a central table.

‘Breakfast and a s
how,’ Skeeve said when Rushe nudged her down into a chair. ‘Come sit over here.’ Skeeve pushed away from the table and rubbed his lap.

Shiv
sat at another side of the table with the twitchy kid and the driver in another two places. In the harsh light of day, all four of them appeared pathetic but no less sinister. Flick’s estimations of them didn’t change though the Kid seemed more interested in her today.

‘You had your fill
yet?’ Shiv asked the room while leering at her chest, though it was covered by Rushe’s shirt.

‘It’s hot in here little girl
,’ Skeeve smirked. ‘Why don’t you undo a few of those buttons?’

Shiv
sniggered, and the Kid’s eyes flared in hope. Skeeve leaned forward and took hold of her knee. Pulling it aside his other hand groped up her thigh.

Rushe stood at the kitchen counter with his back to proceedings. Just like he’d said
, she was on her own.

Trying to free herself she pulled away but
Shiv lunged forward to grab her shoulders.

‘
Glen get the shirt!’ Shiv exclaimed and the driver pounced to his feet.

Without escape, options wer
e bleak but that didn’t mean Flick would give up without a fight. Everyone froze when a deep, rumbling punch of a laugh came from the corner. The men all poised to attack her desisted to slink back and find the source of the single flat note.

Slowly Rushe turned and flung a jelly sandwich to the table. ‘You lot are some kind of pathetic, you know that? Have you
never seen a woman in your life?’

The men moved back to their seats at the same time Rushe went back to whatever he’d been doing.

‘Eat,’ Rushe commanded and Flick figured it was for her, so she snatched up the sandwich he’d chucked down and began to gobble. She knew that her desire to leave the safe bedroom wouldn’t increase, so she might stay put for her next meal... or the next five.

‘We need our fun,’
Skeeve said. ‘It’s our turn with the bitch.’

‘You don’t touch my stuff and you know it,’ Rushe said. ‘Do
n’t want your dirty paws on her; god knows what diseases you vermin have.’