Page 45 of Captured
I can see it in his eyes the moment he decides he’s going to enjoy torturing me.
“So this is how it’s going to be? What about my sister? She’s going to ask questions. Are you going to tell her what you did to me?”
“Your sister is as dumb as a rock. As long as I keep that spot between her thighs hot and wet, she won’t even notice you’re gone.” Fred chuckles. He actually chuckles.
Red invades my vision as the face of my sister comes back to me, those large blue eyes, full of hurt, full of anger. Anger at me for bursting her bubble made of money and denial.
The sound of the slap is dry and surprisingly loud in the air. There’s a moment when Fred stays unmoving, his face turned to the side. My palm burns and stings as I watch the shape of my fingers redden on his pale cheek.
Then he turns his cold, blue gaze back to me and there’s a world of sickness inside them.
“You’re going to regret this, Juliet, you truly will.”
The words are simple and the tone of his voice is soft like poison-drenched velvet. Fred turns to Captain Henrick and hands him over the data frame in its little reader. Henrick pockets it, sealing our fates.
“Captain Henrick, take Juliet on board. She’s yours to do as you please as long as you get me that key.”
“And the Drakian, sir?” Captain Henrick turns his attention from me to Rakir as a horrid, perverted smile stretches on his lips.
“We don’t need him. You can skin him, gut him, and hang him out to dry if you like.”
With this, Fred turns his back on all of us, walking back toward his shuttle. There’s an eerie silence after the black, high tech ship lifts in the air, then disappears beyond the clouds.
“Well, where shall we start?” Captain Henrick speaks, attracting everyone’s attention. “How about we start with a little show for our Drakian friend, here? I’m sure he likes to watch, and I’m sure you need to be reminded what a real man feels like.”
A chuckle travels through the soldiers, sick and full of lust.
I should be full of dread, full of the sickness of what is to come, but I’m not. Elation and relief flood inside of me as I see the greenery move in the forest beyond. Black, scale-clad figures emerge between the leaves, crouching, waiting.
I can see only three of them, but there were more. I could sense their gazes burning through the air, scorching a brand on my skin. All I can hope for is that it will be enough.
“You wouldn’t know what a real man was, Henrick.” I laugh, loud and flippant. Provoking. “But I’m sure my Drakian friend could show you, if you asked nicely. He’s twice the man you’ve ever been and ever will be.”
A tick agitates the corner of Henrick’s mouth as the words fall between us. The air fills with a thick kind of hatred and for the first time since we met them, it’s not directed at Rakir. Nope, that’s all for me.
A sliver of fear travels up my spine. I surely hope those dark shadows I see crawling low out of the cover of leaves are who I hope they are. If not, I’m really going to regret provoking them like that.
As the soldiers shift their gazes to me, Rakir turns his head in my direction. I lock gazes with him and try my best to express with my eyes what I can’t say out loud.
It works just as well as I thought it would. Not at all.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to regret that.” Captain Henrick takes a step forward. In doing so, he leaves Rakir just behind him. I take this time to slide my glance away at the tree line in a kind of obvious, wide-eyed way.
The soldiers stare at their leader, ignoring Rakir altogether.
Yeah, that’s it. Focus on me.
I see Rakir’s gaze going to the forest and his features slack just a tad as he sees what I wanted him to see.
As Captain Henrick drifts his attention to me, his soldiers do the same.
That’s a mistake they won’t live to regret.
