Page 2 of Searching for Hope

We pull to a stop when Jericho taps Barrett on the shoulder. He gets out of the car and strides up to one of the women. She doesn’t seem pleased to see him but she accepts his cash after blowing a stream of vapor in his face and then he turns and gets back into the car with a small strip of paper in his hand.

“Making a booking for later?” I taunt.

He doesn’t answer, but he does shut the door with extra force before leaning forward to hand Barrett the piece of paper. Barrett glances at it and then types an address into the GPS.

Jericho has traveled all over the world in his search for his sister Hope. He’s chased down lead after lead only to find most of them pointless, exaggerated, or outright lies. He’s spent millions of dollars. Invested in countless schemes just to get his foot into doors which were then firmly slammed in his face. He’s bribed people. Bought people. Fought people. And the only thing he has to show for it is the monster bound in the basement. My father. The man who owned then sold Hope. The monster who claims he knows nothing.

The drive to our destination is short. Barrett opens my door and Jericho extends his hand. With a deep breath, I take it, stepping out onto the deserted street. My foot is basically healed now. It was a bad sprain and serves as nothing more than a reminder of my escape attempt. It seems silly now, knowing what I know. But it didn’t at the time. At the time I was frightened for my life.

The average person would pass by the metal door on the side of the building without a second thought. They’d think that the man leaning against the wall was nothing more than a person stopping to have a cigarette.

“Name?” he asks casually as we approach.

“Priest,” Jericho replies, placing sunglasses on the top of his head.

The bouncer checks his phone then lifts a brow. “And she is?”

“Mine,” is all Jericho says.

The bouncer holds up his hand. “You know the rules then, put a leash on her.” He nods to me.

Jericho explained the rules when he was trying to dissuade me from coming. Anyone not physically attached to another was considered free. And whoever holds the leash has the right to gift it to another. My mind had instantly gone back to the time I spied on him during one of his famed poker games. Someone had handed him a leash and he’d accepted. Did that mean he’d had sex with the woman on the end of it? I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to hear the answer.

Pulling a leather strip out of his pocket, Jericho clips the end through the metal loop at the base of my throat. He holds up the leash to the man for approval.

The bouncer opens the door.

chapter two

BERKLEY

We walk down a dark hallway, the leash hanging limply between us. The thud of music can be heard from behind closed doors. The glow of the light above us is red and it flashes intermittently. Jericho stops at the door at the end of the corridor and looks back at me.

“You ready?” His eyes hold uncertainty.

I nod, already feeling a knot of either anxiety or excitement. I’m not sure which. My heart speeds up, matching the thud of the bass but I lift my chin and square my shoulders, trying to prove to him I’m not as scared as I feel.

“You’re supposed to be subservient to me, remember? Don’t speak unless I give you permission. Don’t move unless I give you permission. Don’t—”

I roll my eyes, exasperation getting the better of me. “I know,” I hiss. “You’ve told me enough times.”

Jericho somehow lifts his brows at the same time as deepening his frown. “And yet you’re still interrupting and talking over top of me.”

I lift my chin even higher. “We’re not inside yet.”

Jericho takes a step closer and tugs on the leash, jerking me toward him. We glare at each other, his eyes darting over my face, along my jawline, my lips, my cheeks, and my hair before resting back on my eyes.

“Behave,” he warns and a stupid flush of excitement ripples through me.

Once the door is pushed open, the music rushes out to greet us. Jericho walks inside and I follow two steps behind, as previously instructed. I’m supposed to keep my eyes down, but I can’t help but stare at this strange world. Pulses of color make everything glow under the neon lights. The walls are covered in spray-painted graffiti, each scene depicting a different sexual scenario. Brown leather sofas are strategically placed across the polished concrete floor with people draped over them as though they are part of the furnishings. There’s a dance floor off to one side, a bar at the rear on which the glasses and bottles reflect the lighting, making everything seem slightly surreal.

And there’s flesh, so much flesh on display. My cheeks warm as someone walks past me wearing a leather harness and nothing else. His dick is erect and bounces as he walks submissively behind the woman holding the end of his leash.

“Stop staring,” Jericho growls under his breath.

“I can’t help it.” My eyes keep bouncing around the room, focusing in on people in various states of undress. “Have you seen what some of these people are wearing, or rather, not wearing?”

Even though the music is loud, I swear I hear him chuckle.

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