Magnate (Acquisition Series Book 2) (18 page)

“Play along or we’re both dead. Got it?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even know what he meant. The blood rushed to my head and my vision swam.

He slapped my ass, the sting worse because of the cold. “Got it?”

“Yes.”

I heard shouts at the top of the ridge. More men coming for me.

He kicked a break of leaves down on top of Dylan and lumbered up the slope, me swinging limply at his back. “I raped you. You hate me. I’m going to take you back to the house and rape you some more. Oh, and I’m Lucius. All that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He hefted me higher on his shoulder, my ribs pressed against his back. “The hate part should be easy enough.”

“Wait, my knife!” I scanned around the area where Dylan had first found me. There was a slight glint in the leaves. “There it is!”

“What knife?”

“Please, I need it. It’s right behind you.”

“Dammit, Stella.” He whirled and knelt before standing back up, lifting my weight easily. “I got it. Hang on. This is actually a stroke of luck.” He made a fast movement and then his left hand was all over my ass.

“What—”

“It’s done.” He growled. “Now, shut up. Or cry. Either would work.”

The voices got louder. “Fuck, someone already got her.”

“Shit!” A younger man’s voice. “Hey man, you sharing?”

“No, I already bottomed her out anyway. Now I’m going to take her back and rip the fuck out of her ass.”

“Which one is that?”

“Stella.”

“Goddammit. That one was my favorite.”

As if I were a toy and he could collect them all. Rage rose in my worn-out body, but I stayed silent. I would do whatever it took to get out of here.

“Son, there’s still one more. Come on. Let’s keep hunting.” An older man’s voice, his antique drawl right out of the antebellum South. “But I am curious. Who is the lucky hunter?”

“Lucius,” Vinemont called, his steps slow and steady up the hill.

The old man cawed out a laugh. “Well I’ll be damned. The Vinemont boy caught his own goddamn Acquisition and took the cherry. Good work, my boy. Cal will definitely be impressed with that. Did she cry?”

“Of course she did. She’s weak. Begged, pleaded, and screamed when I shoved it in. Fucking bitch didn’t know when to shut up. I had to cover her mouth, and you know I hate that. I prefer it when they scream.”

“As do I. As do I. Come on, Brent, let’s get back to business. This little chat has my blood up. I’m going to tell Cal about your performance, Lucius.”

Vinemont shifted, and I felt him shaking hands with the stranger. “You do that. Sovereign would look pretty damn good in front of my name.”

Another laugh from the older man.

“You sure you’re not sharing?” The other one—Brent—spoke, and a hand ran up my leg and gripped my ass.

“I’m sure. This cunt is just sweet enough for me. Go find your own, boys. Better luck next time. But if you catch Brianne, I might just trade up.”

The man squeezed harder, and I cried out.

“Sounds good to me. We’ll take you up on that when we find her.” The hand released me.

“Good hunting.”

“Congratulations again, Lucius. Keep up the good work.” The older man said, his voice farther away now, and mixed with the sound of crunching leaves.

“Yes sir.”

Chapter Fifteen

Sinclair

I walked past
the dozens of congratulations and offers to fuck Stella. The house was abuzz with a Vinemont victory. I nodded and waved, smiled at them all as I still carried her slung over my shoulder like the spoils of war.

“Take the mask off. Let’s see you.” One of the older ladies crowed as I stomped up the stairs to Lucius’ suite.

“No can do, ma’am. The mask makes her scream almost as much as the rest of me.”

She laughed and smacked Stella on the ass. “Get her.”

Once past the crone, I had one more set of stairs to ascend before she’d be safe.

“Caught your own girl?” Red leaned against the railing. From where he stood, he’d seen me from the moment I walked in with her over my shoulder.

I gave a curt nod. I wasn’t sure if he’d recognize my voice. His gaze shifted to Stella, to the blood from my palm I’d smeared on her.

“Looks like you put it to her the way she deserves.” He slid his hand up her leg and she tried to kick him. He dodged but backed up a step, still eyeing her. “I sure would like a little taste.”

I shook my head. “Not sharing,” I said as quickly as possible.

His eyes widened for a split second. Did he know who I was? I wasn’t going to wait to find out. I walked past and felt Stella’s hand pressing on my lower back. I glanced over my shoulder to see her pushing up from me so she could give Red the finger.

He gripped his crotch in response. “Next time, bitch.”

I continued toward the suite, passing an open door on my right. I glanced in. Gavin was there, his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth as Judge Montagnet rutted on him like a boar.
Fucking animals.
I glanced away from Gavin’s mournful eyes. I had enough pain without sharing his. Stella swung hard against my back as I turned so she wouldn’t glimpse her friend.

The rest of the way was smooth sailing to Lucius’ room. I kicked the door, and he swung it open before shutting it tight behind us and propping a chair under the handle.

“Did you get to her first?”

“Mostly.” I hurried through the main room and into the bedroom, setting her down on the bed and kneeling in front of her.

Her lip was split, her cheeks and forehead wind burned. There was a cut on her leg. She was dirty, with black dirt under her fingernails and smudges on her face. The urge to kill everyone who’d hurt her, chased her, tried to violate her rose up inside me and threatened to block out any rational thought.

She reached out with a trembling hand and stripped off my mask, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “You came for me.”

“I told you I always would.”

“Jesus.” Lucius kicked an accent table, breaking the leg off.

Usually, I would have scolded him for the outburst, but for this the noise was necessary, desired even. Everyone needed to believe Lucius was rough fucking her while she cried. The more brutal, the better.

“Get the first aid stuff I brought.”

Lucius unzipped a case and yanked out some of my clothes and other items, including a bag full of medical supplies. He handed it over to me. “If that’s all you need, I’m going into the other room.”

“Go ahead. Make plenty of noise.”

“Not a fucking problem.” He slammed the bedroom door, cranked up the sound system with some angry metal, and then there were a series of crashes.

“Stella, I’ll need you to scream for me. Can you do that?”

She nodded as I moved the pads of my thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. A shallow cut ran along my palm. I’d used her knife on myself and smeared the blood on the bottom of her dress, made it even more believable as I’d carried her around like a trophy.

“Go ahead. Scream.”

She let out a peel of shrieks, her body quaking from the effort.

“Okay, that’s good for now.”

She stopped and shivered, shaking uncontrollably, her teeth chattering. She needed heat.

A scream sounded from somewhere else in the building. They must have found Brianne.

“No.” Stella’s faced crumpled and she covered it with her hands. “No. I hid her. I hid her.”

“It’s not your fault.” It was mine. I’d seen Brianne’s hiding spot when I’d first set out for Stella. I’d radioed back to another party that something appeared odd at that break in the forest and intentionally used an open channel so everyone heard. The ensuing search for Brianne bought more time for me to find Stella first. But I’d still failed. I could only hope that Dylan would keep his mouth shut about what happened. He’d turned out to be more intelligent than I’d originally thought, and definitely more devious. I might have even liked him if he weren’t trying to take what was mine.

I gently pulled her wrists away, the coldness of her skin shocking me into action. I rose and went to the bathroom, finding a whirlpool tub with a forest mosaic of tiles surrounding it. I turned on the water and adjusted it until it was just north of lukewarm. Once the bath was running at the right temperature, I went back to her. She sat unmoved, fear and sadness painting her face, turning her eyes into sad emerald pools.

“Come on.” I helped her up, but she groaned as she stood and fell back. “What is it?”

“Everything, but mostly my feet.” She bent over and tried to unzip her boots, but her fingers couldn’t grasp the tabs. I eased her hands away and slid the zipper down on each one.

Her legs were burned like her face, and I was as careful as I could be. I pulled the first boot off. Her sock was bloody, and she cried out as I stripped it from her foot. Blisters had risen and burst all along her feet and ankles.

“Shit.” The bath would sting like hell, but I need to clean all her wounds. “Just hang on to my shoulders, okay? You can hurt me all you want. I don’t care. Just hold on to me.”

She grabbed me as I pulled the second boot away, her nails digging into my thermal shirt and the skin underneath. When I peeled the sock off, she let out a strangled scream, and I heard something break on the other side of the suite door.

“I got it. I got you.” I looked up at her. The pain in her eyes tore me apart. I wanted nothing more than to stop her hurt.

I eased my hands to her shoulders, keeping it slow as I pushed her jacket off. Underneath was nothing more than a paltry white shift, the bottom hem ripped away. I clenched my jaw at the thought of her out in the woods, frightened, and wearing nothing more than a thin nightgown. Cal was a sadistic piece of shit.

I gripped the muddied hem. “I have to take this off.”

She shivered more and placed her hands over mine. “Don’t.”

“It’s dirty, Stella. The bath is going to be nice and warm.” I moved my hands up the slightest bit, lifting the skirt up her thighs. “It’s okay. Here, just guide my hands.”

I kept my grip on the nightie at her upper thigh until she pulled. I lifted it higher, almost to the apex of her thighs when she pushed against me and I stopped.

“I’m not going to prey on you, Stella. I just want to help.” I knew my words sounded hollow to her after everything I’d done, but I held her gaze and tried to make her believe them.

She hesitated, then pulled more. I raised the shift higher and stood, drawing it from her arms and tossing it in the floor. An ugly bruise—purple edged with yellow and green—covered a large part of her forearm.

“What happened there?”

“A woman. She hit me.” Stella blinked down at the injury. “Before we ran.”

I made a mental note to find out who it was and punish the bitch accordingly. “I’m going to lift you and take you to the bath.”

I bent over slowly, treating her like I would a skittish horse that was too afraid to be treated. I slid my hands under her knees and across her upper back.

She made a noise and bit her lip. “It hurts.”

“I know.” I carried her to the bath and lowered her into the tub.

Her face twisted in a mix of relief and pain as the water rushed up to meet her. Once she was in, I turned off the water and stripped off my wet shirt, tossing it out the door in the same heap with her dress.

She glanced up, taking in my chest and stomach before she closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

I sat on the edge of the tub, my gaze tracing the curves of her body beneath the water. I’d tried not to look when she was on the bed, but my cock was hard all the same. Because I was a bastard.

The water trembled as she shivered, the heat not seeping into her fast enough. Her hair floated around her shoulders, the red strands delicate against her pale skin and the white of the tub.

She shifted and groaned, but her teeth no longer chattered, and some color was returning to the parts of her skin that weren’t chapped.

“You can’t stay in here long. Hot water isn’t the best for the blisters.”

“Just let me sit for a little while longer.” Her eyes didn’t open, and her voice had a distant quality, relaxed and sleepy.

I went to the vanity and dug around in the cabinets, finding towels, shampoo, wash cloths, and soaps. I grabbed a bar, smelled it, tossed it, and then picked another. This one was more on point, sweet without being overpowering.

I sat on the edge of the tub again and dipped the cloth in the water before using the soap to lather it up. Stella’s head lolled to the side as her breathing smoothed into a steady rhythm. Something warmed inside me at the thought that she felt safe enough to fall asleep in my presence. That, or she’d simply been pushed beyond exhausted.

I put my arm down in the tub and gingerly lifted her leg. The blisters were clean from the water, but still an angry red, with deflated skin around the wounds. They would hurt for a while. Good news was I had something in the first aid kit for it. Bad news was I didn’t think Stella would willingly let me drug her. Not that it mattered. I would do it either way to help her through this mess.

I soaped up her foot and she woke, sucking in a pained breath.

“I’m done. I’m done.” I moved up her calf and massaged as I cleaned.

She moaned.

“This okay?”

“Yes. Don’t stop.” Her throaty whisper had my cock straining against my pants, but I ignored it.

I continued working my fingers into her muscles, and her mouth opened. She was panting as I got to her thigh and massaged out the knots there. When I neared her pussy, I forced myself to stop and place her leg back on the bottom of the tub. Then I lifted the other one and did the same.

By the time I was done, she watched me with half lidded eyes. I had the impulse to jump in the tub with her and sink between her thighs. Instead, I dutifully soaped the washcloth again and worked up another good lather. I gently scrubbed her face, her delicate neck, graceful shoulders, and arms. The bruise seemed even uglier now that the rest of her was clean.

I soaped her chest and ran the washcloth along her pert breasts, the nipples hard and begging for attention. I swiped lower, cleaning her before putting a hand behind her back and leaning her forward. I rested her upper chest on my palm as I washed her back. She was like dough in my hands, soft and pliable. Vulnerable.

I leaned her back and poured water in her hair. I shampooed her scalp, the first time in my life I’d ever done such a thing. Her neck bore ugly bruises from Dylan’s hands. Anger coiled in my stomach like a snake waiting to strike, but I shut it down and concentrated on Stella. Once I rinsed the suds from her hair and she was clean, I hit the drain.

“No.” Her protest was weak.

I gripped under her arms and lifted her until she stood, the water sluicing down her body. She was more than I could take, so beautiful that it hurt. I wrapped a towel around her and scooped her up again before carrying her back to the bedroom. The king size bed with the black comforter swallowed her whole.

I inspected her feet. They were still in a bad way and needed antibacterial ointment and bandages. Her eyes were closed, her wet hair fanning out against the pillow. I would kill two birds with one stone. I got the first aid items and laid out alcohol, ointment, gauze, tape, and one final thing—a syringe.

“Stella? This is going to hurt.”

She murmured something unintelligible. With the syringe in one hand, I dabbed alcohol onto a blister with the other. She awoke on a scream, the sound raising the hair on the back of my neck. It was perfect.

I gripped her arm hard and kept it still as I slid the needle into her vein and depressed the plunger. She looked at me, lightly shaking her head as one tear fell. Then she was out. Hitting a vein on a struggling woman was one of my specialties, thanks to my mother.

Another crash from the living quarters. This time it sounded like Lucius had ripped the flat screen off the wall.

I took my time with her, cleaning every blister, every scratch. An hour later, she was bandaged and sleeping comfortably. I undressed and took a quick shower, though I hated letting her out of my sight. Lucius would guard us, not that I expected any guests. I’d made clear that Stella was mine and that I wasn’t sharing. Or, that Lucius wasn’t sharing, as they thought.