Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2) (11 page)

Trying to put as much distance between the stranger and myself as I can, I shuffle my feet, scampering backward until my back hits a wall. Releasing a pained groan, my body tenses, immediately going on the defensive. My chest heaves with every pant as I urgently try to pull in more air. Frantic, my gaze darts around the room. The room is small. It can’t be any bigger than 12x12. It’s bare, to say the least, consisting of four walls, a door, a window an infant can barely pass through, and a concrete slab for a floor.

There are two buckets in the corner by the window—one can only imagine what those are for. My stomach turns at the thought. In the middle of the room, four women huddle around a queen size mattress, watching me warily. Each of the women are clad in a white silken slip that falls mid-thigh. My breath stalls, eyes growing wide as I drink in the sight. The slip clings to each woman, accentuating the curvature of their breasts, nipping into slender waists and flaring out at the hips. It was purposely designed to incite desire and arousal, something in any other circumstance, I would have thought about acquiring to wear for Alex.

A pang slices through my chest as I think his name. Glancing down at my own body, I groan as I realize I’m wearing something similar. My brow creases. Where am I? And why in the hell am I wearing a black negligee? The rustle of fabric and shuffling of feet have me snapping my head in the direction of the women.

The woman with kind eyes tentatively smiles, taking a step forward. Keeping my back firmly pressed against the wall, I push my hands out in front of me as I step to the side. These women don’t exactly scream violence, but considering my present circumstances, I’m not about to jump to any conclusions. She halts where she stands, holding her hands up with her palms facing out. Her brow furrows for a moment before she bites her lip in concentration.

Her English is heavily accented when she inquires, “Do you speak Korean?”

Unable to find my voice, I nod.

Smiling, she switches to Korean. “We will not harm you. I only wish to tend to your back.” She pauses, her face filling with unfettered rage.

“He harmed you. Marred your beautiful skin. Is not right.” Her voice shakes as she speaks.

“Yes.” My voice quivers with the memory.

Stretching her arm in my direction, she opens her hand, extending an invitation. Holding her gaze, I study her, looking for any sign of a hidden agenda. Her brown eyes greet me, welcoming me with kindness and warmth. Inhaling deeply, I take a step forward, closing the distance. Her warm hand entwines with mine, squeezing gently. Peering into my eyes, she wipes a stray hair from my eyes as she says, “My name is Nari. Here on the left is Hye, in the middle is Areum, or Are, and on the right is Kyung. We call her Key.”

Nodding, I reply, “Hello. I’m Kai.”

Collectively, their heads turn to the woman holding my hand, staring at her briefly, uncertainty etched in the small lines around their eyes. Confusion laces her tone as she asks, “We thought your name was Kylee. Kylee Parker.”

Gasping, I drop her hand, taking a step away from the women. Ice floods my veins, sending chills dashing through my nervous system. A fine tremor begins in my fingers. Balling my hands into fists, I lock my knees, praying I won’t topple over. “H-How do you know m-my name?” I stammer.

Nari raises a hand, reaching for me, but I instinctively take a step back, retreating to the wall. Sighing heavily, she says, “Jeong. He gave us your name.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Why does he do anything?” she says, with exasperation.

I quickly look around the room, wondering yet again where I am. Finally having the courage to voice my question, I ask, “Where am I?”

Smiling, Nari motions for me to take a seat on the mattress. She gestures to the other women, who quietly seat themselves, patiently waiting. Tilting my head to the side, I observe how they interact. Gazing with focus, I watch as Are rests her head gently on Hye’s shoulder. Hye absently begins stroking Are’s hair while Are links her fingers with Key’s. The women relax into each other like sisters getting ready for a sleepover.

Their behavior is nothing like captives, although my heart tells me they are being held against their will, which now makes me look at the scene unraveling before me with fresh eyes. Is it still sisters bonding, or is it now women bonding over the most terrifying experience of their lives? Nari watches me from the corner of her eye.

Nausea threatens to work its wicked way up. Covering my mouth with my hand, I close my eyes, swallowing against the bitter acid.

“Kai, are you all right?” Nari questions.

Giving my head a slight shake, I feel my stomach slosh. “I’m gonna be sick,” I groan. My body tenses as my stomach churns. Panic begins to swell, tightening my chest until I’m unable to breathe. I can’t be sick. There’s nowhere to be sick in here! Swallowing, my throat constricts, making me gag as bile rises again, choking its way up my reddened throat.

Nari’s sharp voice cuts through my panic. “Kai, come quickly. Here, there’s a bucket if you’re going to be sick.” She points to the bucket by the window.

Scrambling, I hurl myself in front of the putrid smelling bucket with seconds to spare. Intense, gut-wrenching sounds leave my body as I expel the contents of my stomach. The acid sears my already raw throat, burning my nose, and stinging my eyes. Soft hands hold back my hair from my face as another pair rubs soothing circles down my arms, slow touches meant to comfort me in my time of need. Tears prick the back of my eyes as I continue to retch into the vile bucket.

My body continues to heave long after the bile from my stomach dries, leaving me exhausted and numb. When my heaving finally subsides, I rock back onto my heels, greedily sucking in breaths through my nose. Burying my head in my hands, a small whimper leaves me as my body hunches over. Several hands aid me to my feet. Stumbling, barely able to hold my own weight, I allow them to guide me. When my feet hit the mattress, my knees buckle, and my body collapses.

Fatigue runs deep, sinking its claws into my very existence. Darkness courts me, my eyelids drooping. Nari continues to run her hand through my hair, brushing the strands from my face, reminding me of a mother soothing her child after a long night of being ill. Are, Hye, and Key all surround me, comforting me as I steadily breathe in deeply.

Still stroking my hair, Nari asks, “Kai, how are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you,” I croak.

“Would you like for me to speak while you rest your eyes?”

“Yes, please.”

She shifts, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Come lie your head on my lap while we tell you our story.”

Doing as she instructs, I place my head on her thigh. Immediately, she resumes stroking my hair. The other women surround us, each placing a hand on my leg or arm, consoling me with their light touches.

“We are being kept in a remote location. I know we are still in Seoul only because I have overheard some of the men speak.” She pauses, taking a breath, but never stops her ministrations of my scalp.

“Our stories vary on how we came to be here. It is not my place to tell you their stories. However, I can share my own with you. It was late one evening. I had lost track of time, something I often did when I got lost in my work. When I finally came up for air, I realized how late it was. Tidying up my things, I closed up and left. Unfortunately, due to the lateness of the hour, the buses no longer ran, so my only option was to walk home.” The hand in my hair quavers.

“The night was dark and stormy, and the street I traveled wasn’t well lit. I could barely see to put my feet in front of me. Looking back, it was a foolish thing to do.” I look up, watching as her words trail off. Her eyes are distant, lost in memory.

“I was lost in thought, not even conscious of my surroundings. He took me by surprise, sneaking behind me. I struggled, but it was no use. He was strong and overpowered me. He must have used some type of drug to knock me out because when I awoke, I was here in this room with Hye and Key. Are joined shortly after.” She peers down at me through her lashes, her gaze locking onto mine.

“What I’m going to tell you next you will not like, of that I’m sure.” She hesitates, gauging my reaction. My breath freezes in my lungs.

“In one way or another, when we arrive, we are all put through a vigorous training of sorts. It is a different experience for each of us. Jeong . . . he is the one who trained me. He is a sadistic man who takes pleasure in torturing women. The louder your screams, the more you bleed, the more pleasure he derives from it. I was tortured at his hands for many days, forced to choke down his cock until I was gagging and fighting the urge to vomit. Then he bound me, gagged me, and ravaged my body until the pain was so unbearable I blacked out.” Inhaling deeply, she takes a calming breath before pressing on.

“It took several weeks for my body to heal before they put me into circulation among their clients.” She peers down at me from beneath her lashes. Feeling the intensity of her stare, I look up with wide eyes and see the understanding and knowledge buried deep within her gaze.

“Clients . . .”

“Your assumption is correct. Although, we both know you are not here for the same reason.”

The truth in her statement unsettles me. Although, how she would know is beyond me. It’s not common knowledge . . . is it? No. No, it can’t be.

Right away, my mind becomes restless, unease penetrating my thoughts like a thick fog. Hesitantly, I withdraw myself from their clutches and hug my knees into my chest. Gently, my body begins to sway, rocking from side to side as watchful eyes scrutinize my every move. Scanning their faces, I try to get a read on the situation. Something, anything that will give me one iota, one tidbit, an inkling, some kind of a sign that they’re not trying to harm me. Thousands of tiny needles prickle my skin along the base of my scalp, burning me with awareness.

An old memory of my father flashes in my mind. He once told me that I should always go into every situation with my eyes wide open. Casting my eyes in Nari’s direction, I meet her gaze. We sit that way for several heartbeats, staring intensely at each other. My instincts tell me she’s holding something back. That she is not being completely truthful. But what secrets she’s concealing I’m not sure.

Many questions still remain. Why would she keep something from me? What reason would she have to lie? Regardless, she is hiding something, even if I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Now I have to determine what she wants with me. Does she mean to do me harm?

And who is she protecting? Because as hard as she is trying, I have a feeling she is protecting someone. The bigger question at the moment that needs an immediate answer is: Is she working for my mother? I don’t get the feeling she is. She’s protective of these women. She doesn’t seem like the type to side with my mother. But it doesn’t explain how she knows about me. She hasn’t exactly given me a reason not to trust her.

I don’t buy that bullshit that Jeong just stops by to shoot the breeze—not that she said that—but he doesn’t just volunteer information. No. Something is off. I just need to gain their trust enough to find out. Then maybe, just maybe, I can use that information to help me escape. A plan slowly begins to formulate, a way to get close and learn as much as I possibly can while still keeping myself guarded.

Clearing my throat, I tentatively smile. “How do you know that is not what I was brought here for?”

Nari’s expression is careful as she replies, “Everyone knows that you are the daughter of Min Sun-ye Parker, one of the five leaders of the Kkangpae.” I can feel the corners of my eyes tighten in response to her comment.

“And how exactly does everyone know this?” My tone comes out calmer than I expected, despite the rage simmering in my veins.

Nari’s careful eyes survey me while Are’s seductively soft voice interrupts our eye contact. Casting my eyes Are’s way, I take in her soft features. Areum is a young Korean woman in her early twenties with almond shaped eyes so deep they almost appear black. Her hair is a rich mahogany that floats to the center of her back. Tiny bow shaped lips accentuate her heart-shaped face, giving her a childlike appearance. She truly is a breathtaking sight to behold. However, her rich, seductive voice is oddly out of place for her tiny body.

Her soft words bring my attention back to the room.

“It was widely known that Mamasan had a daughter when she was younger. To us, you are like what they say in America . . . folklore? A story? Or maybe a legend? Something that everyone has known about for a very long time. The child who got away.”

I blink several times, trying to clear the cobwebs from my mind. The child who got away? What in the hell is she talking about? Is it possible to call in sick from this kidnapping? I’m pretty sure I have some form of PTSD now.

Throbbing begins in my temples. Almost like an awful garage band has taken up residence and decided to use my frontal lobe as their drum kit. Reaching up, I massage the offended area, trying to assuage some of the pressure. Placing my hands back around my knees, I glance back to Are and say, “I don’t understand what you mean. The child who got away?”

They all look to each other, sharing a knowing glance before their gazes fall back on me. Are opens her mouth to speak just as the lock on the door creaks and the door swings open. The women huddle together next to Nari as I stare at the door. My stomach plummets knowing without having to see what is waiting for me. Jeong saunters into the room, glancing briefly at the women before his leer lands on me. Hugging my knees tighter, I try to make myself smaller as he takes slow, deliberate steps in my direction. He stops several feet in front of me, standing with his legs spread, his erection bulging against the fabric of his slacks.

Crouching down, he runs his index finger through the valley between my breasts, causing me to flinch. His menacing laugh is deafening in the small room. When his laughter subsides, he speaks in a low, guttural rumble that has my insides flipping.

“Agassi, come. It is time.”