Hidden Currents (8 page)

The wind pulled back. Silence filled the space left behind. Elle became aware of a murderous rage pouring into the room. She held her breath as she turned her head slowly toward Stavros. His face had gone dark, brows together, his white teeth bared.

“
Jackson?
You dare to call another man’s name in our bedroom? You filthy slut! After all the care I’ve given you, you dare to betray me like that?”

His hand blurred he moved so fast, his fist settling around her long hair. He yanked her off the bed backward and dragged her across the floor to the center of the room.

“Stavros, no,” Elle pleaded. She couldn’t take another punishment. And he was truly angry, his face a mask of brutality. She knew something terrible was going to happen.

He tied her hands with rope and jerked on the pulley, dragging her body into an upright position, straining her arms, and stretching her already painful body horribly.

“Please,” she whispered.

He caught her hair, jerking her head back to stare into her eyes. “You belong only to me. You serve only me. You pleasure only me. If you ever escaped me, I would hunt you down and bring you back and you would be punished beyond anything you’ve ever known. I think it is time you learned just who you’re dealing with.”

Tears streamed down her face and she could barely catch her breath. She already felt broken, exhausted, so terrified she didn’t know how to cope. Her mind felt chaotic and scattered, as if she’d misplaced her ability to think things through and all she could do was feel pain and fear. “Stavros,” she tried again. “I don’t know what I’m doing or saying. Please don’t do this.”

“You want another man? Is that what you want?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I think you do. I think you’re such a little slut you want another man. I don’t seem to be satisfying you.”

“That’s not true. I don’t want anyone else.” She didn’t want anyone touching her. The thought of Stavros sharing her, forcing her to accept other men, made bile rise in her churning stomach.

Stavros stared down at her for a long moment while the wind lashed at the windows and lightning forked across the dark clouds. He leaned over, his face pressed close to hers. “I think you need to know who you belong to, Sheena. I think we need to drive that lesson home.”

He waited and she knew he expected her to acknowledge his ownership. “Please,” she said brokenly, “I can’t think clearly.”

He sighed and stood up, one hand trailing over her breast. Without another word he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Elle couldn’t stop crying, the pain in her head making it impossible to think, the fear of what Stavros might do choking her. She’d never seen him like that. And she never wanted to again.

She waited for what seemed like hours, but she knew it wasn’t that long. Her arms ached and every bit of air on her skin intensified the pain. She wanted to give in to Stavros, just end it all before she lost who and what she was. She knew now how the women taken prisoner and forced into the human trafficking rings felt and it made her sick that she couldn’t help them. She’d nearly sent word to Dane that she was certain that Stavros wasn’t involved, and yet, he was. He had been all along. From the information Stavros had let drop, she knew his twin, Evan, was alive and that he, along with his bikers, kidnapped the women. Then Stavros used his freighters to send the women all over the world. Evan was alive after all, raised by his mother away from the father. She’d taken one twin and left the other behind.

The wind slammed into the window and she lifted her head to stare out at the raging storm even as she felt Jackson, much stronger this time, slide into her mind. She didn’t want him there. It was too late for hope. There was only humiliation that Jackson would share everything that happened—that was going to happen—that he could see her like this, know what Stavros had done and was still doing to her. If she built enough energy and waited for her moment, she could use the storm and short-circuit her brain. It was the only way out that she could see.

You were there for me, Elle, when I was tied and beaten like a dog and thrown into that rat hole. You were there for me. Don’t try to talk, and don’t try to take your own life. I see what you’re thinking, but if you turn yourself into a vegetable, what do you think will happen to your sisters? To me? Live, Elle. Believe I’ll come for you.

Elle closed her eyes against Jackson’s voice. Against the small flare of hope that lingered. Stavros was too powerful. He had too much money. No one could ever escape him, least of all her.

You’re just tired, baby, worn out with fighting him. I know where he’s keeping you now and I’ll stay with you until I come for you. You aren’t alone anymore.

She wanted to be alone. She didn’t want him to see into her mind, the conflict there, to see the terrible things Stavros had done to her body and soul.

Be strong for me. I was strong for you when they ripped me apart and took everything I was. You know what they did to me. You’re the only soul in this world that does. Be strong for me, Elle. I need you to be strong.

She was too tired, too far gone. There was little left of Elle Drake. She wasn’t as strong as Jackson had been. She’d admired him so much, believed in him and then he’d just let her walk away. Was it the children he didn’t want? Or her?

I wanted both. I still want both. You and our girls. I was a fool, Elle. I was afraid you’d get hurt. I have a death sentence hanging over my head and I didn’t want it following us around. Just—

He broke off because, through her, he’d sensed Stavros’s presence. Stavros had come back into the room and Elle was so tuned to him, so aware of him, she knew immediately. Her heart rate jumped and she began silently praying for strength. She jerked at the ropes tying her arms over her head. She could barely reach the floor with her toes and every muscle in her body was screaming in pain. She knew Stavros was watching her. Waiting.

She was so tired, so broken. Each time he came near her, she tried to use her psychic talent to defend herself, to keep him away. The pain was so intense in her head, she knew it was shattering her and if she continued, it would eventually destroy her brain. He was breaking her faster than she ever thought possible, using her own psychic defenses against her.

She tried to remain calm, to relax, and let the pain wash over her. It wasn’t just about pain. It was about ownership and humiliation. Teaching her there was no hope. That he ruled her life, was her life and she had no other purpose than to serve him. How many countless women had gone before her? Been treated as a vessel rather than a human being? An object for a man to use?

Stavros touched her bare shoulder, a light touch of possession that made her stomach churn. “We have another lesson today, Sheena, and I hope you’re paying attention to this one.”

Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t turn her body, but his hands wandered over her, touching intimate places that he claimed were his and his alone. He stroked softly and gently over the welts on her back and breasts, deliberately delivering pain with each fake caress. Her body shuddered in spite of her resolve not to let him see her reaction to his torture. And Jackson knew. Jackson felt each touch, felt her soul cringing. She could feel his anger building, the need to retaliate, but he kept silent and stayed with her. A part of her was grateful, although she didn’t know which was worse, him sharing the humiliation and pouring strength into her, or being alone and feeling hopeless.

The door opened behind her and she heard heavy footsteps. Her heart began to pound in alarm. So far the only other man Stavros had let in the room with her had been his brother, a sadistic man who enjoyed breaking the women they used in the prostitution houses they had in cities all over the world. Most of the women were kidnapped and he, as well as a team of his men, specialized in “training” them before placing them in the various houses. His brother had walked around her without touching her, but carefully instructing Stavros where he could hurt her most if she disobeyed, bragging how he could get cooperation in a matter of hours.

More than once he had tried to talk Stavros into letting him have her, but Stavros had been adamant that no one but him touch her. In the end, his brother left after the first day and she never saw anyone again other than Stavros.

A hand gripped her hair and jerked her head back hard. She found herself staring into Stavros’s eyes. He bent close to her until his mouth was against her ear and he could whisper to her. “I want you to pay close attention to this lesson, Sheena. Very, very close attention.”

He dropped his mouth over hers, kissing her hard, mashing her lips against her teeth and biting on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He pulled his head back and she cringed at the look in his eyes. Where was the handsome, sophisticated man now? He was one moment tender and caressing and then would switch to the other side so rapidly she could barely process it. It left her off balance and fearful, her attention always centered on him.

A man came into her line of vision. He was already rubbing his crotch in anticipation. It was clear Stavros had told him he could have her. Tall, broad-shouldered, he walked with a decided strut and stared at her striped body, licking his lips.

“You like what you see?” Stavros demanded. “My little slut has quite the mouth on her. I told you I owed you a favor. If you want to use this pretty little mouth, she’s all yours.”

“Hell yeah,” the man responded.

Something terrible was going to happen here. Elle wanted to close her eyes, but was terrified to do so. Maybe if she gathered enough of the violent energy swirling around the room, she could either break free or kill herself. It was the only thing left to her, because she was not going to do this.

No! You will not try to defend yourself, Elle. Do you hear me? You do whatever it takes to stay alive. I’m here with you. Whatever he does to you, he does to me. You’re not alone. Stay alive. That’s all that matters.

Elle shook her head again, not knowing if she was trying to dislodge Jackson to spare him whatever might be coming, or whether she was refusing his demands. The storm hurled itself at the house, unrelenting and vicious like the men in the room with her. Jackson. Trying to get in. He couldn’t save her, not now—not ever.

That’s not true, baby. I swear I’m coming for you. I’ll get you out of there. I swear it on every one of our children. Our daughters. I’ll come for you.

Stavros walked around her shivering body, suddenly jerking her head back and mashing his mouth against hers, biting at her lips. Again she felt Jackson’s reaction and his building fury, his pain easing hers and helping her to detach from what was being done to her. Abruptly Stavros lifted his head and wiped his mouth, smearing her blood across his lips.

“This belongs to me. I say who uses her, no one else.” Stavros turned his head and looked at the man who seemed so eager to participate. “Drako. Come here. You want to help teach her to please me?”

Drako strutted forward with a grin on his face. “I’d love to help you.”

Stavros caught Elle’s long hair and dragged her head back. “He’s going to teach you how to please a man with that mouth of yours.”

The moment he released her hair, she shook her head and tried to kick out at Drako as he approached her. “I won’t, Stavros.” She refused to acknowledge the other man, refused to look at him.

The malevolence in the room grew. Outside, the fury of the storm increased. She could feel Jackson holding his breath, but it felt like he was holding her hand and she tightened her fingers hard around the rope.

“You’ll do whatever I tell you to do,” Stavros said. He lowered the ropes until Elle was on her knees, still shaking her head violently.

Drako grinned at her. “Maybe I should use that whip on her first, teach her manners, boss.” He looked eager to hurt her.

“Shove your cock down her throat and show her what a man is,” Stavros snapped.

Elle went wild, fighting to get away as Drako approached her. Stavros stepped very close, crowding Elle, trapping her legs with his, one hand on her hair, forcing her head back, the other hand behind his back.

Elle’s heart pounded in fear. “Why are you doing this?” She hissed the words between her clenched teeth, keeping her gaze locked with Stavros. There was no mercy there, none at all, just a desire for power.

Drako’s fingers pinched her nose closed, preventing her from breathing. The wind howled outside and slammed into the window. Elle fought the need to breathe, her lungs burning, her heart hammering. Drako was relentless and Stavros simply waited until survival kicked in. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. She’d rather die. She had to tap in to the storm and let it fry her brain, at least short-circuit it enough to snuff out reality. She’d be a vegetable, but it wouldn’t matter what Stavros forced her to do.

No! You do whatever you have to do to live, Elle. Do you hear me? Please, baby. Oh, God, Elle. They aren’t worth your life. I’ll stay with you, right here in your mind. Lose yourself in me. Baby, please don’t let them take you from me. Love me enough to live.

She could almost see him, tears on his face, in his voice and mind, his forehead pressed against the mosaic tiles of her ancestors. Her sisters’ voices rising around him, holding the bridge, keeping it strong, unknowing about her fate and God help her, it had to remain that way, because she could never live with their knowledge of what these men were doing to her.

Her air was gone. Long gone. She had to make a decision. Live or die. Subject herself to the horror of this degradation or kill herself.

Live for me, Elle. Love me enough to live for me. God knows I don’t deserve it, but love me enough to believe in me—that I’ll come for you, that I’ll fight for you with every breath in my body, every skill I have.

She gasped, drew in great gulps of air and Drako shoved himself deep, gagging her. Stavros’s hand went from her hair to her throat, fingers clamping like a vise.