Page 89 of Lucky's Trouble

Normally, I’d join in on the banter, but our win means fuck all right now. We’re still looking for a needle in a haystack, and considering the amount of money and resources the man who took Tinleigh probably has, our chances of finding her are slim.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

TINLEIGH

The woman who dressed me leads me down the hallway, passing guards and staff members. My face flames red in embarrassment even though no one so much as looks my way. I’m used to being nearly nude in front of people, but that’s at a strip club. Being exposed and carted around like this is terrifying and humiliating.

I attempt to map out the house as we go, but it’s hard when everything looks the same. The floors are white marble with gold veining, and the walls are stark white with gold molding. We descend two flights of stairs before things change.

At the bottom of the stairs, she pulls me through a red door. The room is dim, lit only by sconces spaced out along a far wall and candles flickering from the top of substantial furniture placed throughout. The cold tile I had been walking on is gone, and its place is what feels like foam covered by a rubber mat that my feet sink into as she leads me further into the room.

My eyes jump around, not knowing what to look at first but knowing none of it is good. My chest feels heavy as I take it all in. A large wooden X with cuffs attached to each point is behind me. A king-sized bed wrapped in black silk sheets is straight ahead, and my steps falter when I notice that instead of a bed frame, there’s a cage under the mattress. Large bureaus with cabinets wide open display all manner of whips and chains on either side of me. Finally, there’s a padded bench and an oddly-shaped chair in the far corners.

My head whips around, sensing someone behind me, and I swallow hard when I see four women kneeling in a line. They’re dressed similarly to me—meaning they’re virtually naked—with their leashes attached to hooks on the wall. Their eyes are cast down, and they’re holding perfectly still.

“Tonight you’ll watch, so you know what Sir expects from you. I suggest paying close attention.” She gives my leash a tug, moving away from the women and to the bed. My feet feel weighted down, and I stumble, nearly falling into her back. “Fucking hell. Is walking too much of a chore for you? At this rate, you won’t last a week.”

She opens the latch on the cage and gestures for me to get in.

I shake my head. “No. I want to go home. Please. I have people who love me. They’ll be looking for me.”

Sighing, she rubs at the spot between her eyes. “Just once, I’d like a different reaction from one of you, but no, it’s all the same.” She points to one of the women behind us at the end. “She’s been here for a year.” Her finger moves down the line. “Six months, five months, and three weeks. They all said the same thing as you, and no one has broken the door down to rescue them. You’re no different, so just get in. You should be grateful; tonight’s the easiest night you’ll have here.”

When I don’t move, she drops the leash long enough to walk over to the bureau and grab a stick with two prongs on the end. Then she picks up the leash and gives it a tug, forcing me to take a step forward. Before I realize what she’s holding, she presses it to my hip and delivers a painful jolt of electricity.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Now get in.”

Looking down, I see two red spots marring my skin. I don’t have a choice. One way or another, she’ll force me into that cage. So, I walk over and lower to my knees. With my hands still chained to my thighs, there’s no way for me to crawl in.

“Shit. I forgot. Hold on.” She bends over and unhooks my wrists. “There.”

With trepidation, I crawl into the small space. Once inside, she closes the latch. The cage isn’t tall enough for me to sit upright, so I remain on my hands and knees as I watch her walk out of the room. When I hear the door shut, I turn to the other women. If I have any chance of escaping, I need their help.

“Are you guys okay?” I whisper. They don’t respond. “Quick, unhook yourselves and get me out. We can make it out of here.” They’re stock-still as if they didn’t even hear me. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Reaching through the bars, I fiddle with the latch, unsure of how it opens. Before I can figure it out, the door to the room opens. As if the atmosphere knows bad things are about to happen, the temperature drops to a chilling level, sending shivers down my spine.

“Oh, good. My new pet is here.” Like a lion walking into his den, Dead Eyes stalks through the room. His suit coat and tie are gone, but he still has his black tailored pants and white button-down on, the shirt open, revealing a bare chest covered in dark tattoos.

He walks over to the kneeling women and, one by one, lifts their chins and looks down at them almost lovingly. Now that I can see their faces, I can tell they’re younger than me. Eighteen or nineteen, if I had to guess. What puzzles me the most is the dreamy way they return his gaze.

Do they want to be here? Is this some Stockholm shit, or what?

The second he releases each of their chins, they go back to staring at the ground, spines straight and hands on their knees, like puppets who only come alive for their puppeteer. That can’t be me. I won’t let it. I have to get out of here.

With a soft smile and all the confidence in the world, he walks over to where I’m caged and opens the door. “Come on out, Pet.”

Instead, I crawl backward until I’m pressed against the bars. I want no part in whatever Fifty Shades of Fucked Up he has going on in here.

I’m not naive to kink. I had friends from the Thirst Trap who were in Dom/sub relationships, and some of it sounded hot, like something I’d want to explore with Lucky. The one thing they always talked about, though, was trust, and I don’t trust this man as far as I can throw him.

“Aw, are you scared? Don’t be. Tonight, you watch. I just want you to have the best seat in the house.” He closes the cage door until it’s almost latched, then stops. “Keep in mind that if you don’t come out, I’ll assume you like it in there and leave you until tomorrow.”

Thinking about being locked in here all night with nothing but the hard plastic to lie on sounds miserable. Even the stained mattress upstairs would be better. Much better, actually, because then I’d at least be alone and not in this asshole’s presence.

Slowly, I crawl to the door and wait for him to open it.

“That’s a good girl.” The door swings open, and he holds out a hand for me. I stare at it as though it’s a viper waiting to attack. “It’s just a hand. Come.”

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