My knee moved to sink into Rex’s groin, but before I made contact his fingers dug into a nerve in my neck—I was paralyzed, frozen there at his mercy. “You’re alright,” his deep voice crooned, rough but I could tell he was attempting to calm me. I should have been able to speak, but for some reason the feeling of being immobilized by his fingers on some sort of pressure point shocked me into silence.
The dark fabric covered my face, and he quickly pulled it around me and held me in his arms like a baby. “Please,” I begged from the darkness of the bag. He didn’t answer, but he held me tighter—the sensation more cradling than rough. He was walking quickly, the steamy humid heat replacing the cool, dry air of the van. Voices surrounded us, speaking what I thought was Spanish—or maybe Italian. Rex’s low baritone answered them fluently, in their language, as he continued to walk briskly with me in his arms.
In a few moments we were indoors again—the sensation of an artificially cooled area was unmistakable, even inside the cloth sack. Another short few moments passed, and I was being placed gently on a bed. After a loud click, Rex pulled the sack up over my feet and legs as I wiggled out of the bag.
As my eyes opened, my chest heaving from fear, Rex hovered over me, his body resting on the bed beside me. I looked into his eyes—searching for some sort of reassurance that I would make it home alive. “You okay?” he husked, his hands brushing the hair from my eyes. “Uh huh, I think so…” I finally managed to squeak out. “I’ll get you some water,” he said absently as his fingertips brushed against my cheek. “The door is locked from the outside. I don’t know you yet, Princess—I don’t trust easily. Nathaniel bringing you with us has put all of us in danger.” I nodded, even though I had no idea what he was talking about. His combination of hard and soft, warm and cold, kept me on edge.
The door locked behind him. I looked around the room—it was a normal bedroom, and there was sunlight coming from the two windows. They were covered in heavy bars, but other than that, the room didn’t seem like a prison, but more like a guest room. Well, like a barred guest room that locked from the outside. As messed up as it was, I yearned for Nate. He felt safe and comfortable, despite Rex’s reminding me that Nate actually was my captor. Rex must have brainwashed Nate, I reasoned.
Rex returned with a small basket and a duffle bag, and my lusty eyes weren’t disappointed that he was still shirtless. He opened the basket and pulled out a bottle of water, pointing it toward me. I greedily sipped the cool liquid as he watched me. “Hungry?” He held out a sandwich, but I shook my head. “Come on, Nate said you needed to eat. He made it with his own two lovely hands.” The mention of Nate perked me up. “Can I see him? He’s here?”
“Not yet. He’ll be in to see you if you can manage to behave.”
“I’m a prisoner then.” I looked around the room.
“No, these are precautions. I have to detain you for now, that’s all.”
I nodded, unconvinced.
“Eat, drink, and relax. There’s a TV over in the armoire—it’s not connected to the outside world, but there’s a shitload of movies there in the drawer. That door,” he said, pointing to the side of the room, “is your bathroom. This bag has some women’s clothing—I’m not sure they’ll fit, but you won’t be here long.” He stood up and headed for the door as I slunk into the bed.
Halfway to the door, he turned and said aloud, “Oh, I almost forgot.” In a flash, he lunged at me, his heavy body crushing mine against the mattress.
“Stop!” I screamed, horrified that he “almost forgot” to attack me. This man was insane, insane and violent.
“You are so damn feisty!” he howled, scrambling for something in his pockets.
In seconds he had my dress pulled up to my waist, and his large hands were yanking my panties down over my butt. “No, don’t!” I begged, sure he was going to rape me.
“Be still,” he said calmly as I felt a sharp jab.
Not a sexual jab, but a needle directly in the muscle of my behind.
“What was that?” I howled as he released me, pulling my panties up.
“Just a little shot to make sure you do as I say, Princess. Sorry to mar that perfect ass, though.” He turned and left, leaving me sobbing on the bed.
Hours later, after several movies, Nate came in with a tray of food and an apologetic look. “Sorry I left you like that. Rex said to give you a few hours alone.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
“So you just did what he said without even asking—”
“Yes, Penny. I do what Rex tells me to do, without question.” Brainwashed. The psychotic goon was controlling the sexy, beautiful, and perfect Nathaniel Slater. I mean, he was a hot as hell goon, but still.
“Nate,” I sighed, “he’s evil! He choked me, and then he injected me with some drug—”
“Don’t say that!” He shook his head and stood up, heading toward the door.
“Wait, I’m sorry—don’t leave me, please.”
He stopped and turned toward me. “I like you Penny, a lot, but I won’t have you disrespecting Rex. He means the world to me. Whatever he’s done, it’s for our safety. Rex protects me, and he’ll protect you, too. But you must obey him.”
“Okay, okay, got it. Sit with me please? I’m so lonely and afraid.” He nodded and walked over toward the small table where he’d set the tray of food. “Let’s eat. Would you like some wine?” I was relieved when Nate popped the cork on a bottle of expensive chardonnay and poured two glasses before cuddling up next to me in the fluffy bed.
I tried to get physical with Nate, but he shook me off and explained, “Rex said I could only cuddle with you this time.” I couldn’t believe the level of mind-control the villain Rex had on my sweet Nate. I ran my fingers through his silky waves, the reddish brown color a sharp contrast to his flawless porcelain skin. My palm swept under his shirt; the feel of his ripped chest and the perfect V of his abs tying my greedy clit into knots. He lovingly pulled my fingers back as his cock swelled, muttering a gentle, “Not now, babe.” Unable to seduce him, we dozed off to sleep in a wine buzz with some romantic comedy playing out on the large television from a DVD we'd popped in earlier. I slept soundly in Nate’s comforting embrace—despite haunting worries of what sort of drug the evil Rex had injected me with.
When I woke up, it was morning and Nate was gone. I wandered into the small bathroom—an assortment of toiletries was lined up on the counter. The one small window, like the ones in my room, was barred. I took a shower, crying as I washed my hair. Thoughts of my father flooded me—my mom died three years ago, and despite a long estrangement, I’d grown closer to my father. He had to know I was gone, and I prayed he was looking for me.
I brushed my teeth with the new toothpaste and toothbrush on the sink before blow-drying my long blonde hair. Think Penelope, I scolded myself as I washed my face. I looked through the drawers—no makeup. Even though he was the one who kidnapped me, I sensed that Nate was my chance at freedom—his soft, warm presence was my best hope for escape. He was clearly brainwashed by the cruel King Rex, but he was also falling for me. Even without lipstick and eyeliner, I had to win over Nate.
When I emerged from the bathroom, the TV was off. Rex sat in a chair at the side of the room, tapping at his Blackberry. He was wearing darker jeans than the day prior, just as strained over his muscled legs, the same black combat boots, and a green camouflage t-shirt that struggled to cover his bulging biceps. He never looked up at me as I sat on the edge of the bed. We sat silently for what seemed like forever before he finally slid the phone in his pocket and looked up at me.
“Ah, you look nice, Princess. Much better with the war paint washed off.” His eyes roamed across my body. “The clothes fit?”
“A little snug, but yeah, they’ll do. Whose were they?”
A curtain of sadness slid across his face. “None of your fucking business,” he snapped. His large chest filled with air, and he slowly exhaled. He was trying to control his temper. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m here to chat with you because Nate the Kindhearted begged me to, and well, he can be quite…persuasive.”
“If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just drop me back in the States. I mean, they’ll be looking for me.”
He shook his head. “No one’s looking for ya, baby.” His dark stare bore into me.
“The bartender at my father’s club saw Nate leave with me, he’ll—”
An arrogant smirk slid across his lips. “No, sweetheart, they think you willingly left with a handsome ex-boyfriend for an extended frolic on the French Riviera. And as far as the bartender, well—I took care of him.”
I gasped. Hank had been a friend of mine for years, my confidant at the club where I practically lived every evening. “You didn’t!” I whispered as the tears sprung to my eyes.
“Penny—I assure you that Henry Joseph Harrington, bartender of five years, who lives at 2344 Desert Crest in Boulder City, Nevada isn’t going to save you. No one cares, no one is looking for you.”