Page 1 of Mine to Take

CHAPTER ONE

KIRSTEN

I closed my eyes and waited. I just needed it to end.

The thin cot was no match for the hard metal frame it was resting on and I felt every single rail along my spine. It was better that than what I knew was coming. A rough hand found its way to my now bare breasts, groping and tugging. Bile rose in my throat as lips wrapped around my nipples. His tongue circling and sucking. I closed my eyes tighter and reflexively clenched my hands into fists and tugged against the ties binding them sending a ripple pain from my wrists up my arm.

The unmistakable sound of a belt hitting the ground, the zipper falling open. A tear slipped town into my ear. I focused hard on that tiny droplet of water now resting in my ear canal as the cock grazed my thigh en route to my entrance. A cry escaped my throat as he rammed himself into me hard. Groans and cheers egged him on. More water falling from my eyes settling in my ear canal.

Suddenly a rush of air hit my naked body. The cock was no longer inside of me. Fingers and lips were not ravaging my breasts. A hard thud of a body hitting the wall and then floor. Another groan filled the room, this one of pain, not pleasure. Shouts in Farsi were coming from too many different voices for me to understand. And then quiet. Deathly quiet.

I slowly opened my eyes. My arms were bound together over my head and legs spread open and tied to the frame of the cot. My pants were around one ankle and I was powerless to pull them up. Powerless to cover myself in any way. I closed my eyes when the door behind me opened. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see what, or who, was coming next. The footsteps were heavy. A rustle of fabric caused me to tense again. Warmth fell across my body. I opened my eyes to see a large tan jacket draped across my body, the body heat of the man who had been wearing it now warming my skin. I was having trouble moving my head, but saw the flash of metal as the knife whipped past my head and the zip ties at my wrists were slashed. A large gentle hand secured each foot as those ties were also cut.

I sat up clutching his jacket to my breasts and catching a whiff of the man who just left the room. Amber and sandalwood filled my nostrils.

I pulled my pants up and found my torn sweater on the floor. I put it back on, but kept the jacket as well, the scent was comforting, as was the warmth. Sitting up on the cot, I sat and waited.

I had no idea how long I’d been here, not entirely sure where here was. But clearly, we had gotten too close to something, or someone, important. I’d heard Chaz and some of the others mention Mahdavi’s territory. It would have been an extraordinary find. People better equipped than us had been searching for his compound for years now.

Suddenly shouting started again, and again, too many different voices and the rapid-fire Farsi was too fast for my hazy head to comprehend today. Quiet again and then screams.

The owner of the jacket walked back into the tiny room.

“Did you kill him?” I asked.

“No. That would have shown him too much mercy. I made sure he felt what you just felt.”

I pondered for a minute what he meant by that.

“I do not tolerate the rape and abuse of women.”

I couldn't help but smile given who I assumed this man to be. He carried himself with way too much authority to be a henchman, and he had wielded that authority to dole out instant punishment. Something I doubted even a right-hand man would be able to do in this situation. “Kind of a funny statement coming from you.”

“I do not hurt women,” he growled through clenched teeth. “I don't tolerate it.”

“Your country does,” I flinched, bracing myself for his reaction, inwardly cursing the absence of my filter.

“So does yours,” he said firmly and calmly. His gaze settled on me. “Those bruises are not all new.”

I dropped my gaze to the floor, and wrapped the jacket tighter around me even though there was no exposed skin for him to see now.

“If you are using me for leverage, it won't work. He doesn't give a damn about me. I'm a piece of property to him, one he would gladly sell for the right price or to save his own ass. He'll probably offer me up to you as a whore.”

Farid Mahdavi’s eyes remained fixed on me. He seemed content to stay still, staring until I met his eyes again. “I know,” he said it softly, and almost as if it made him sad.

“Wow, well that happened a little faster than I expected.” Then the ramifications set in. My husband had proven to be a useless provider of intel. Honestly, I didn’t imagine there was any information we could provide this man that he didn’t already know. We weren’t spies. My husband was a cop working as a contractor in Iran and I was along as a translator for the entire group. We had somehow, inexplicably, and through pure dumb luck, stumbled upon the outer edges of this compound.

“So if I am no longer of use to you...are you going to kill me?” I asked, also wondering if he was going to use me as his plaything first.

“No,” he said. “Come with me.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” he smiled slightly and offered his hand to help me up. I didn't take it, standing on my own, I moved past him and out the door.

I followed his towering frame up some stairs and through a maze of stairways, halls and doorways, many of which he had to duck through. He led me to a small bedroom with a window, an actual bed and a bathroom with a small tub which had been filled with water. I eyeballed the window.

“I don't advise that. You won't survive.” His voice was calm and even. It was not a threat, just a simple statement of fact.

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