Buttons & Lace Page 5

  You can do this, Pearl.

  Just focus.

  He can take your body but not your mind.

  Eyes on the prize.

  ***

  He liked to beat me.

  I think he liked that more than fucking me.

  He loved to play hide-and-seek. I would run off into his elaborate mansion and try to find a place where he wouldn’t find me. And he came looking for me—a bat in his hands.

  When he found me—which he always did—he beat me until I passed out.

  He loved to tie me up and whip me, slash me into submission. He liked to make me bleed, and when he saw my blood ooze from my skin, he made me bleed even more. He got off on a lot of sick things.

  I was his plaything. I wasn’t human. He treated me like a rag doll he could throw around.

  Someone made three million dollars off of this.

  He probably had a yacht in the Mediterranean, a beach house in Sardinia, and a Lamborghini in his garage.

  While I was smacked around.

  When I got out of there, I would hunt him down. I would find him and get that three million dollars. I didn’t care about the money. But I earned it. It was mine. No one should benefit from my enslavement other than me.

  I just had to get out of there.

  I wasn’t sure what he did for a living, but he must do something important to own a castle. It was in the midst of a city, but I couldn’t determine where. The bars over the windows prevented my escape, but I could still look outside. It was definitely Europe. Without any distinctive landmarks in sight, I couldn’t determine exactly where I was. Maybe France. Maybe Italy. It didn’t matter. Either one of those places would have an American Embassy. All I had to do was get there and tell them I’d been kidnapped. Then I’d be on the first plane back to the States. When I got there, I would never leave again.

  My tormentor was gone during the day, or at least, in a place where I couldn’t access. Guards patrolled the inside of the house, watching all the exits and windows. Cameras were placed in every room—including my bedroom. I didn’t have a single ounce of privacy. He watched every little move I made—like a dog.

  I spent my time in my room, savoring the sweet hours until he returned from whatever the fuck he was doing. Every day, he took me viciously. The only exception to that was when he was sick. So far, that only happened once.

  There were no clocks or electronic devices in the house besides a sound system built into the walls. I had no idea how long I’d been there. It felt like an eternity, but it could have only been a few weeks. A month, perhaps.

  But it felt like a lifetime.

  Since there was nothing to do during the day, I took a lot of naps. I spent my free time recovering from the injuries I’d sustained. My ribs hurt in all the places he kicked me, and my back was scarred with welts. He took off his belt and beat me with it, marking up my ass most of all.

  I noticed he never hit my face—at least not hard enough to make it bruise. And he never injured me from the knees down. My shoulders and arms were spared too. My back and ass took most of the damage.

  Perhaps he didn’t want anyone to know what he did to me.

  There was some hope in that. If a visitor came to the house, I could tell them I was being held captive. I could show them all my marks and bruises. They would call the cops for me. No one could hear that and do nothing.

  I knew he was home when his voice shook the house. “Where’s my little cunt?”

  What a cute nickname.

  A moment later, he walked into my bedroom, wearing a crisp suit like he just left an honorable business meeting. He must make his cash from criminal activities. That was my best guess. No one had that kind of wealth unless they were breaking the law.

  He approached the bed and grabbed me by the ankle, forcefully dragging me to the edge until I was underneath him.

  I hated how strong he was.

  “Miss me?”

  “Even if you were dead, I wouldn’t miss you.” I kicked his hand away and pulled back.

  Every time I defied him, he seemed to like it. “I’ll lash you for that later. But for now, there’s something we need to discuss.”

  This should be good.

  “Francine.” He snapped his fingers like he was beckoning to a dog.

  A young woman obediently walked inside the room. She wore designer clothing and had silky smooth hair. She reminded me of the stylist who gave me a makeover before the auction. “I’m ready, sir.”

  “My little cunt, this woman is going to get you ready for tonight. I’m having a dinner party and would like to invite you as my guest.”

  A dinner party? That meant other people would be there? It sounded too good to be true.

  “Cooperate,” he commanded. “Give her any grief, and I’ll hang you until you pass out.”

  Been there, done that. It wasn’t fun.

  “Got it?”

  “Fuck off.” That was my usual response. I didn’t care to change it.

  He turned to her, amused. “She’s a bit of a handful.”

  “I can see that,” she said with a smile.

  Now I turned my glare on her. “You know I’m a slave, and you continue to work for him? You know how easily it could have been you instead of me? You’re sicker than he is.”

  Francine swallowed my words without even a slight reaction. They bounced off her expressionless face, evaporating into the air. “She needs a collar.”

  Excuse me?

  “Otherwise, I won’t work on her.” Francine crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me like I was a nuisance. She wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with me.

  I actually felt sorry for her—not.

  “You’re right,” he said in agreement. “That works for me.” He pulled a metal band out of his pocket. It looked just like a silver bracelet, unadorned and boring. He clasped it around my wrist then placed a remote against it, locking it to me.

  I knew what it was. I’d worn one of these things once before.

  Asshole.

  He handed the remote to Francine. “She shouldn’t give you any trouble now. But watch her. If you plan to cut her hair, tie her down. She’ll snatch anything.”

  Whether she was an innocent person or not, I’d take her out if I had to. She was there by choice, so that put her directly in my way. And anyone in my way had to be removed.

  “I understand.” She had a lyrical voice, the kind you would hear during a song.

  Why didn’t my captor want her instead of me? She was prettier. Had bigger tits. What was his fascination with me? Why didn’t he just tie her down and keep her as a new toy?

  In that moment, I realized I still didn’t know my tormentor’s name. I never asked, and he never told me. I still didn’t care to know what it was. But maybe it would come in handy later. When I went to the embassy, my primary goal was to be free. But my secondary one was to take him out.

  For that, I needed a name.

  ***

  Francine gave me a complete makeover. She changed my hair, cutting the long and dead strands. She supplied an endless line of care products into the layers, giving it a glow full of life. It had a healthy shine, just the way hers did. She curled it at the ends, making everything bend inward to frame my face. After that, she did my makeup. She lengthened my eyelashes and dabbed them with mascara. Layer after layer was applied, and soon I was transformed into a different person. My eyes were wide and distinctive. My lips were painted a ruby red, contrasting against my fair face. With the foundation she brought, she was able to hide every single flaw I possessed. If you looked at me, you would never know I was being raped and beaten on a daily basis. You wouldn’t assume how much I suffered constantly. I looked like a normal person.

  “I understand his obsession with you.” Francine ran her fingers through my dark brown hair. “You really are beautiful. You know, the natural kind. You don’t need makeup and nice clothes to look gorgeous. But, of course, it helps.”

  I glared
at her in the mirror. “Wow, I feel so much better now.”

  She ignored my sarcasm. “Now we just need to put on the gown, and you’ll be ready for dinner.”

  That was the one nice thing about my captivity. He didn’t starve me. I could eat when I wanted and however much I wanted. His goal was to hide my abusive circumstances by keeping my waistline at a healthy level. If I were smart, I would starve myself until death took me. But I was too weak for that. I loved food way too much.

  Francine returned with a floor-length gray gown. It had a deep opening in the front, showing off my cleavage. The designer name wasn’t printed anywhere, but I knew it was a one of a kind. Whoever was coming to dinner was important.

  “I’m not wearing that.”

  “Come on...” She tried to remember my name but realized she didn’t know it. The only name she knew was cunt. “I don’t want to use the Taser but I will. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

  I eyed the dress in her hands before I glared at her. “When I get out of here, I’m going to hunt you down and kill you for saying that to me.”

  Her lips remained tightly pressed together, and her eyes didn’t change. Those words didn’t affect her in the least. “You want to be treated better? It’s not that difficult to make it happen.”

  “By escaping?”

  “No. You want Bones to treat you better? Then give him a reason to.”

  Bones? That was his name? That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. “Damn, could he pick a worse name?” I actually laughed for the first time since being imprisoned.

  “They call him Bones for a reason.” She continued to hold the dress, but her patience was waning. “He keeps one bone from every victim. He has an entire display in this house—a reminder to what happens to those who cross him.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat when I pictured that room. I imagined femurs and tibias glued to the walls. I imagined hands and feet sticking out of black chests. The thought was so demented it sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Don’t be his next victim. You think he treats you bad? You haven’t seen his full potential.”

  How much worse could it get?

  “Soon, he’ll break your leg just to make you scream. He’ll make you limp around the house for a week, forcing you to get a glass of scotch or a TV remote just to watch you struggle. Only when he finally grows bored of it will he call the doctor.”

  Now I was officially freaked out.

  “Yes, it can be much worse. So be thankful.”

  How could I be thankful? My captor was even sicker than I realized. It was only a matter of time before he grew bored with his usual torments and graduated me to a new level of pain.

  Despite how much it hurt my pride, I asked the question that might save my life. “How do I make him treat me better?”

  She smiled, victorious. “You’re a smart girl. I thought you might be, despite that tongue of yours.”

  “Are you going to answer me or what?”

  She beckoned me out of the chair and pulled the dress over my head. She turned me around and zipped up the back, making it snug around my waist. She smoothed out the layers. It fit like it was made just for me. Then she placed a silver necklace around my throat, perfecting my appearance.

  I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. It was the first time I’d looked clean in a very long time. I took showers every day, but I didn’t have hair supplies. I didn’t have anything that could remotely be used as a weapon. Even a hair dryer was off-limits, so I had to dry it with a towel. The clothes I wore were flimsy and old, like a slave before me had worn them. The transformation was prominent, just like a caterpillar to a butterfly. I was a different person now.

  She placed her hands on my shoulders and looked at my face in the mirror. “It’s simple. Make him fall in love with you.”

  ***

  Bones called for me to join him downstairs for dinner. I wore the silver gown and the expensive jewelry, along with a pair of heels that made me three inches taller.

  Francine said I should make him fall in love with me. But could a villain, a psychopath, feel anything remotely close to love? Would he ever care for me? See me as a human being? It would be nice not to be smacked around and raped every single day. If I made him fall hard enough in love with me, would he let me go?

  Was that a possibility?

  I walked down the grand staircase and kept my hands on the rail so I wouldn’t trip. I wasn’t used to wearing heels, and I wasn’t used to walking downstairs in them either.

  “Ahh...there she is.” Bones rose at the head of the table. Four men sat with him, drinking scotch and whiskey. They all wore dark suits similar to the one he donned. They rose to their feet and watched every step I took.

  The men looked just as frightening.

  I reached the bottom of the staircase and came to his side, being obedient for the first time.

  He smiled when he looked me up and down, appreciating what Francine had done with me. She started with nothing and made me into someone who wasn’t repulsive. He took my hand, and for the first time ever, he brought it to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

  I still wanted to throw up.

  “Let me introduce you to my friends.” He pulled out the chair next to his and helped me sit down.

  I didn’t know he had such manners.

  “This is Alfonso, Ricardo, Jermaine, and Simon.”

  Each man bowed his head in recognition when he was introduced.

  “You may address her as Slave.” Bones poured me a glass of wine. “Because that’s exactly what she is.”

  My face blanched when I understood what he said. He introduced me as a slave, which meant these men knew exactly what I was. They didn’t care that I was kidnapped. They didn’t care that my life had been taken away from me. They didn’t even blink when they heard what Bones said.

  Was this the kind of world I lived in?

  “Slave just joined me a month ago,” Bones said. “She’s adjusted quite nicely. She’s fierce and combative. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a slave with a backbone. That’s how I knew I had to have her.”

  Alfonso sat across from me, and he took a long drink of his whiskey as he stared me down. He eye-fucked me just the way that man on the ship did—just before I broke his dick.

  “She actually killed one of the men who captured her,” he said proudly. “Stole a gun then shot him in the stomach.”

  Ricardo nodded, impressed. “She’s got a fight in her.”

  There was a knife beside my plate. It wasn’t a steak knife, but it still had a serrated edge. I could stab one of them in the jugular and make him bleed out and die. Of course, Bones would be my first victim. But the other men were bound to have guns, and they would take me out instantly.

  “She’s a beautiful gift,” Simon said. “We appreciate it.”

  “That’s how we do business, boys.” Bones raised his glass in a salute then drank.

  A beautiful gift? What the hell did that mean?

  A waiter brought out our dishes and placed them in front of each of us. It was tender veal with rice and vegetables. I didn’t care for veal, but I didn’t have a choice but to eat it. If I didn’t, I’d get slapped.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. I was a gift. Did he intend to share me for the night? The idea was even more repulsive than being with Bones alone. These men didn’t have limits. They could use me until I was barely functioning because they got to leave right afterward.

  But would Bones buy me for three million dollars then share me?

  “You’ll service them just the way you service me.” He pushed the glass of wine closer to me, demanding I take a drink.

  Now it was confirmed. “If any of these men touch me, I’ll bite their body parts off.”

  Bones didn’t take my threat seriously. In fact, he laughed. “That’s sweet. She doesn’t want to be with anyone else but me.”

  All the men laughed togethe
r.

  This was anything but funny.

  “I’m serious,” I snapped. “Touch me and I’ll kill you.”

  “Since you’re going to be hanging from the ceiling, I’d like to see you try,” Alfonso warned.

  I stared at his deep brown eyes and felt sick to my stomach. It was the cargo ship all over again. I wasn’t just going to be raped by one man but four more. I turned back to Bones, hating him more than I already did. “You spent a lot of money on me just to loan me out. Not a very good investment.”

  “My slaves only last for a few years.” He said it so simply, like we were discussing his upcoming vacation plans. “They usually die from internal injury or illness.”

  My hand went for the knife at lightning speed. I didn’t care if I died tonight. I’d rather die from a gunshot to my head than a hernia.

  Bones snatched my wrist like he’d been expecting me to do that. “What a shame. I thought you were learning.” He didn’t let go of my wrist. He kept it in his grasp, silently threatening me.

  The anticipation was worse than the pain itself.

  With brutality, he twisted it, causing my eyes to water from the pain. I leaned over the table, trying not to scream as he sprained my wrist with a flick of his own. “You’ll suck their cocks until your lips are red and puckered. You’ll be fucked in your ass as well as your cunt. And you’ll be beaten to within an inch of your life. So enjoy your dinner while you still can.” He released my wrist with a forceful shove, pushing me back into the chair.

  The men ate like nothing had happened. The violent way Bones just treated me meant nothing to them. Their appetites weren’t suppressed. In fact, they looked even hungrier.

  My wrist throbbed so much I couldn’t even use it.

  Bones pointed at my plate. “Eat. Now.”

  I didn’t defy him again. I used my left hand to eat even though I lacked any sort of appetite. I tried to keep my tears back as the horrifying truth settled on my shoulders. I was about to be raped—by four strangers at once.

  Chapter Seven

  Crow

  I sat in front of the fireplace in my study and watched the flames dance. They cracked and popped, sending sparks deep into the hearth. The countryside was covered in fog from the lingering winter. Sunshine was rare.