Survival Games (2 page)

Jessica vaulted
out of a nightmare, sitting up with her hands covering a scream that never
quite made it. Her entire body ached but she thankfully had clothes on, unlike
the last time.

Random images
flashed through her mind.
Walking through the shadowy parking lot at work
and shivering from the cold with the feeling of being watched. A cloth covering
her face, then darkness. The terrifying encounter in the electric chair. An IV
bag. Being strapped to what looked like a hospital bed and feeling pain in her
face, arms and legs.
She shook her head, erasing the images, and glanced
around.

The room was a
perfect rectangle made of gray concrete except for a single mirrored wall. Cold.
She shivered, catching her reflection before studying the lumpy mattress she
sat on. It certainly had seen better days but at least there was a sheet on it.
A treadmill sat in the far corner facing a screen attached to a swivel platform
allowing a view from any angle in the room. And right smack in the middle of the
room was the electric chair.

A short wall
beyond the monstrosity caught her attention and she stood, crossing and
entering a small private bathroom that included a separate tub and shower along
with the standard toilet and sink. A closet adorned the corner and she opened
it, finding towels, shampoo, soap and feminine products, but no razors or
anything that could be used as a weapon and no medications of any kind.

Stepping out of
the bathroom, she inspected the ceiling, noting three cameras and wondering if
there were any more that she couldn’t see. Slow icy fingers tapped their way up
her spine and she shuddered.

He was watching.

Panic threatened
and she took a seat on the mattress with her back to the mirror, bringing her
knees to her chest and resting her forehead on her folded arms. Her long brown
hair cascaded around her, shutting off any possible view of her face. She
didn’t want him to see, didn’t want him to know how unnerved she was. She
closed her eyes, willing the terror away, willing herself to relax.

She inhaled and
exhaled, continuing to take deep cleansing breaths, concentrating on counting
each one, taking herself into a state of meditation.

The room slowly
evaporated around her and she went deeper into herself. When she opened her
eyes, she was sitting on her son’s bed in her house.

“Hi, Mommy.”
Eric’s voice filled her mind even though his lips remained in the closed smile
she adored.

“Hi, baby.” She reached
out to touch his face.

The physical
sensation of touching his skin startled her and her eyes flew open to the
barren jail.

She stared at her
fingertips in awe, her heart raced, throbbing in her ears. Her fingers still
carried the sensation of his soft skin. Uttering a startled laugh, she glanced
around the room and back at her hand. If she could reach her son with her mind,
she would eventually reach him with the rest of her being.

“Get up!” the
voiced boomed through the room and Jessica jumped.

She hopped to her
feet and turned toward the mirrored wall unwilling to show a hint of the fear
tainting her veins. Instead, she flipped her hair, squaring her shoulders and
glared at the mirror. She stared at her reflection, petite, deep brown eyes,
high graceful cheek bones, full soft lips and the shocker that made her blink a
couple of times; a perfect hourglass figure accented by the faded remnants of a
deep summer tan. She hadn’t looked this good in years, the small bulge at her
belly that she carried since her son was born was gone along with any hint of
extra weight she carried on her hips and thighs. When her eyes locked with her
reflection, she shook the shock off her face.

“What,” she barked
at the mirror.

“It’s time for
your workout,” the voice thundered in the room.

“Yeah, right. And
if I refuse?”

“We will have
another turn in the chair,” the voice said.

Jessica turned her
head in the direction of the chair and then at the treadmill trying to keep the
fear at bay. “Fuck you.” She returned her gaze to the mirror.

“That can be
arranged.”

The low purr of
his voice both terrified her and deeply turned her on. Heat flushed her cheeks
and she glanced back at the treadmill, rubbing her arms against the chill in
the air. She cast a weary glance at the mirror before heading in the direction
of the exercise machine.

Sitting on the
floor next to the tread were a pair of running shoes in her size. She slipped
them on her feet and took a closer look at the treadmill. Her heart jumped into
her throat and her gaze shot back to the mirror.

“You’re out of
your fucking mind.” There were metal wrist shackles on the handgrips.

The cackling came
over the speakers. “Perhaps. Now I’m going to give you to the count of ten to
get on the machine or we’ll be having another unpleasant session in the chair.”

Jessica’s gaze
alternated between the chair in the middle of the room and the treadmill,
debating. She made her choice and stepped onto the machine.

“Now, put your right
wrist in the restraint.”

“I don’t think
so.” Jessica shook her head.

There was silence
for a moment. “Then I guess it’s the chair.”

Goosebumps glided
over her skin and she shivered. “Shit,” Jessica swore under her breath and
begrudgingly put her right arm in the restraint. The shackle closed painfully
around her wrist.

“That a girl,” the
voice said. “Now the other one.”

Jessica glared at
the mirror muttering a ream of swears and put her left arm in the restraint. The
shackle closed around her wrist with the same painful grip. The treadmill began
to move slowly at first and increased, pulling on her wrists painfully as she
tried to keep up the pace. “Not so fast,” she gasped, “I can’t…keep up…this
pace.”

“You will keep up
the pace,” he commanded through the loudspeakers. “Here are some motivational
tapes to help.”

The screen lit up
and she watched in horror. The videos assaulted her senses, alternating between
scenes of women and men being tortured, raped, maimed and murdered. These
videos were the real deal and Jessica struggled not to vomit at the glimpse of
what her future held.

Her heart slammed
in her chest with the frantic beat of her feet on the tread. Her thighs burned,
like red-hot irons stabbing her with each step. Buckets of sweat rolled off
her, making the treadmill slick in the spots where it stained the belt. The
metal shackles cut into her wrist and she fought to catch her breath, to keep
pace. Her eyes filled with tears, tears of frustration, tears of pain, tears of
fear and she caught herself, violently shaking her head, blinking them away.

I will not cry!

She clenched her teeth,
determined not to let her captor see her falter.

After the last
horrifying image scrolled off the screen, the treadmill slowed enough for her
to keep pace without the frenzied pounding in her chest leaving her breathless
and terrified her heart was going to explode.

She closed her
eyes and ran, thankful for the silence.

The door opened
and he walked in. His steel blue eyes studied her and he approached the front
of the treadmill, leaning on his crossed arms against the monitor displaying
her speed. His gaze dropped to her bloody wrists and back up to her face and
his lips twitched into a boyish grin.

“Bastard,” she
said breathlessly. The son of a bitch was enjoying her pain.

He laughed and
straightened. “Beg for me. Beg me to stop the treadmill.”

His reasonable
smooth tone struck a match in Jessica and she jutted her chin out in defiance.
“No.”

“Do you know how
long you’ve been running?”

She had no idea,
it seemed like forever and every muscle in her body screamed for her to give
in, for her to beg him to turn off the treadmill. She shook her head.

“Over an hour,” he
said. “You haven’t had any exercise in months. How much longer do you think you
can last?”

Jessica shrugged,
not daring to speak for fear of giving him what he wanted.

“When you fall,
and you will, those shackles will tear the skin off those pretty hands and your
lovely knees will be ripped to the bone by the tread.” His blue eyes sparkled and
he tilted his head a little to the side. “I would really hate to see that.” He
shook his head slowly, feigning pity and then his expression changed. “Now,
let’s hear you beg.”

“No,” Jessica
whispered willing herself not to cry. She turned away from him and ran on.

He grabbed her
face and yanked it toward him, almost knocking her off balance on the
treadmill. “You will,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Not in a million
years!” Jessica thundered and yanked her face out of his grip.

Frustration turned
his blue eyes dark and he stormed out of the room, leaving her running.

She stared at the
treadmill shaking with rage, not daring to sound the sob building in her chest.
Locking it down, she blinked and her tears splattered on the tread. Her heart
skipped a beat. Metal lined either side of the continuously moving strip.

If she could jump
and catch the edges, she could stop running. That would give her the break she
desperately needed. It was a risk, but at the pace she was going, her legs
would give out any minute. She didn’t have anything to lose at this point and
without hesitation, she took a deep breath, jumped up and spread her legs the
distance that she thought was correct. When she came down with both feet on the
edges, she let out a yell of triumph and shuffled up until she could lean over
on the front of the treadmill. She hit the off button with her chin. Her legs
were wobbly but able to sustain balance on the small area while the tread
slowed to a stop. She closed her eyes in relief.

* *
* *

Ty, already
infuriated with her defiance, went over the edge when she let out a yelp of
triumph and clicked the treadmill off. He stormed back in to the room.

The brief flood of
relief dimmed when he flew through the door. The fury in his eyes made her
recoil away from the front of the treadmill. He slammed a button with his palm
and the wrist shackles opened, freeing her. She took another wobbly step back
but he grabbed her arm, tossing her onto the ground, towering over her while
his chest rose and fell, the air audibly filtering through his flaring
nostrils.

A burst of
laughter escaped her lips.

“Bitch,” he hissed
and climbed on top of her, sitting on her chest and pinning her to the floor. He
fumbled with his belt buckle and unzipped his pants.

“You put that in
my mouth and I will bite it off,” Jessica said.

His eyebrows rose
and his lips parted in disbelief.

Jessica’s jaw clenched
and she glared at him in silence.

He slowly zipped
his pants and stood. Without a word, he stormed out of the room.

Chapter
5

Ty stormed into
the control room and paced back and forth like a caged animal, watching Jessica
lying motionless on the floor.

“I will get what I
want!” He ran his shaking hands through his hair. “In here, I’m God,” he
snarled at her image.
Wildcat.

Not only was she a
fighter, but she proved to be resourceful as well and she had the balls to
laugh at him. No one had ever done that before. They all sniveled, whimpered,
or begged, but not Jessica Connor, not the one woman who set his skin on fire
and made his entire frame tingle with desire. Not the one woman he would give
his left arm to hear whisper his name. The one woman that drove him absolutely
mad, and he hadn’t even had her yet.

He needed to tame
her and the sooner, the better; because he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to
resist the feelings brewing below the surface of his skin.

He slumped in the
seat and scanned the monitors. Four of the fifteen monitors had occupants, a
man and three women including Jessica. The rest of the monitors displayed empty
holding cells, hallways and the filming rooms for both the sex and snuff tapes
they made.

A master at
editing, Ty crafted some of the finest underground porn from the footage
captured in the complex and with the public’s appetite for black market videos,
they consistently sold out as fast as he could produce the twisted motion
pictures under the Dark Dreams label.

The only camera
free area besides the control room was the prisoner’s bathrooms and Ty fought
long and hard for that right, finally winning out over his step-brother’s will
on the basis of money. That crusade ended up biting him on the ass and neither
Frank nor Marian let him live it down.

Money wasn’t his
driving factor; he enjoyed the game. The perverse sense of power, of control he
held over his victims, playing God with their lives. He found that unless
someone else’s life was on the line, the prisoner could be stubborn and
unyielding. But the moment he showed them the acquisition of someone they cared
about, that was the catalyst to breaking their spirit. Guilt was a powerful
leverage tool and once their will broke, they became puppets, doing anything he
desired. And the sex was unbelievable, especially when they begged. That was the
ultimate high for him, or had been until now.

His eyes snapped
back to Jessica’s monitor.

Even with the
devious vocation Frank threw him into, he had a strict list of rules he played
by and there were many instances his stepbrother insisted he break them, but Ty
refused. Until Jessica.

Until Jessica, he
wouldn’t go a mile near anyone with kids, but the moment he saw her, he had to
have her and that rule went by the wayside. Until Jessica, he always got rid of
the significant other. If the prisoner had a relationship, girlfriend or
boyfriend or husband or wife, that person was doomed when the kidnapping
occurred, but not in her case. Ty refused to kill her family. Hurting children?
No way in hell and he was not leaving them without parents either.

Frank had been
livid but he got over it when the news reports died down into obscurity.

He watched her on
the floor and began to wonder if bringing her in had really been a wise
decision, especially in light of the tornado sweeping through him every time he
looked at her. He shook the thought out of his head and swiveled his gaze to
Mike’s monitor.

If she knew he
was here, would that be enough to break her
?

That could make
the game interesting.

Ty’s gaze kept
returning to her asleep on the floor.

Frank wanted to
start filming tomorrow. He said she’d be hot in the black market, whether she
wanted to perform or not and Ty had no doubt about that. Yet the thought of her
with his brothers made him shift in the seat and he shifted his gaze again.

Mike.

The thought of
making him more uncomfortable than he already was brought a smile to Ty’s face
and certainly, any video of Jessica would do that.

That would
drive Mike further over the edge
.

The moment Mike saw her he crumbled. She definitely
was his weakness. Mike had cried and screamed pitifully when they electrocuted
Jessica. He begged them not to hurt her again and said he would do anything
they asked, anything.

Frank took him up on the offer.

One of the other
women in the complex bored Frank so his stepbrother concocted a particularly
brutal way to get rid of her, borrowing one of the scenes from the movie
Se7en
and insisting Ty create a masterpiece from the footage.

Ty watched them
beg that day, for a multitude of reasons and the video was priceless. It had
become one of their hottest black market sellers.

He stared at the
master library and shook his head; there were some sick folks out there and
Frank topped the list.

Ty controlled the
different cameras for long shots and close ups in the editing suite, his teeth
clenched against the bile that seemed to line his throat any time they killed
one of the prisoners. He didn’t have the same issue masterminding an explosion
or a car accident that took lives, killing from a distance where it was less
personal, less hands on.

But Frank, Frank
liked to carve his victims. He liked to hear them screaming in pain, gasping,
begging him to stop and eventually begging for death.

When it was over,
it was his job to clean up the mess and create a video that would sell.

He closed his
eyes, remembering how Mike collapsed to the floor when he unchained him. The
poor bastard was still semi-catatonic from that episode.

He rubbed his face
with his hands, the images still playing in his mind. He shook his head and
pulled out a video to wipe the memory from the forefront of his mind, this one
steamy and hot, the way he liked it, he and two girls, and oh, how they begged
for him. Aroused, he scanned the different screens and a smile found his lips.

Who was going to
satisfy him tonight?

His eyes drifted
to Jessica, her chest rising and falling in sleep, her sweat-dried skin
glistening under the dim lights, her peacefully slack face sparked his libido
and when he turned to act on his longing, he stopped at the door, closing his eyes
and taking a deep breath.

Not yet.

However, he knew
if he did not get some sort of sexual release, he would give in to his desire. What
he needed was a blow job and headed toward Angela’s cell. She was stellar at
sucking the juice out of him and she didn’t disappoint.