Suzanne Wright - From Rags

“Anyone can pick up a knife – that doesn’t make you terrifying to me. Having said that, I want to live, so for as long as you’re pointing it at me I’ll have to do as I’m told. But you’re not pointing it at me, are you?”

The stalker hissed. She had a point – the bitch. Besides, placing this knife against her throat was the fantasy. It wasn’t so surprising that she’d guessed that the plan hadn’t been for the kid to run along home unharmed. In fact, the plan had been for the hostage to stick around a lot longer just to ensure she was a good girl.

Seeing how torn the stalker was over the idea of giving up a tool in the plan, she asked, “Do you want me to do as I’m told because he’s in danger? That’ll only mean that most of my attention is on him. I would’ve thought you’d want my full attention.” She shrugged. “Up to you.”

“Yes, it is up to me. And you’ll do as you’re told because I’m the one in control.”

“Then control me. Or do you need to use a teenage boy to have that dominance over me?”

Knowing time was of the essence, the stalker made a quick decision. “You try to run and I’ll slit his throat.”

So abruptly that she almost jumped, the stalker used the butt of the knife to whack Ant over his head. He fell in an unconscious heap on the floor. She resisted the urge to sigh in relief. A bad headache and a lump would beat a slit throat any day of the week. Knowing better than to test her stalkers, she didn’t run nor did she fight when she was roughly grabbed and the knife was then put to her own throat.

“ Now we go for a little drive. Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sean.”

He smiled approvingly. “That’s my good girl. I have a feeling today’s going to make up for what I missed out on eight years ago. Let’s find out shall we.”

If it had been any other woman, Ollie wouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he had been waiting twenty-five minutes instead of the fifteen she’d said she would need. But Jaxxon didn’t dilly dally or spend ages colour coordinating her stuff and nor was she the type who would pack everything with the utmost precision. That could only mean that she and McKenzie were having some kind of row. Maybe she’d told him she was leaving for New York and he had lost the plot over her jetting off again. Or maybe he was dumping her and she was putting his bollocks through some serious pain. On the other hand, maybe they were shagging like rabbits.

Whatever the reason, he was tired of waiting. Sighing, he fished out his mobile phone from the pocket of his jeans and tried calling her. No answer; her phone was switched off. He was just about to jump out of the car and go fetch her personally when something collided into the side of the car. His eyes insisted what he was seeing wasn’t real: Ant with blood pouring down one side of his face pressed against the window, banging his fist on it and mumbling something too fast for him to understand in a somewhat hysterical voice.

Ollie leant over and unlocked the door and Ant slid in beside him, panting. “What the hell happened to you?” And why was he even there?

“Someone has Jaxxon.”

“ What ?”

“Her stalker, he has her.” It all came out in a rush. “He took me from outside my house and brought me here to use as a hostage but she wouldn’t go with him unless he let me go first. He thought he’d knocked me unconscious but he hadn’t, I faked it, and now he has her.”

Panic like nothing Ollie had ever before experienced blast through his system. “I’m gonna kill the bastard.”

The hammering on the front door snapped Connor out of his reverie. Jaxx? Was she back? Lightning-fast he was at the door, swinging it open…only to find Ollie and Tony’s son looking back at him. It wasn’t until the kid quickly looked away, red in the face, that Connor realised he was still naked. And that the kid was holding a bloody tissue to his head. “What the -”

“You still have the bugs on Jaxxon?” asked Ollie as he barged in, uncaring of McKenzie’s indecent state. He was the one who’d kept Jaxxon distracted while McKenzie and his mate planted the trackers.

“What’s happened?” He was already searching out his phone to get in touch with his mate and find out her location.

“It’s her stalker. He had Ant at first but he doesn’t know much about him except that he drives a navy Ford Escort and Jaxxon called him Sean.”

The bottom fell out of Connor’s stomach. “What did this Sean look like?”

Ant shrugged. “Mousey hair. His face had acne scars all over it. They already knew each other. He said something about finally getting to do what he tried to do eight years ago.”

“ Fuck .”

As the boot door flew open and the dim morning light met her eyes again, Jaxxon squinted. The bastard had kept her squashed in the stuffy, oily space, whistling away like he didn’t have a woman curled up in the rear of his car with tape across her mouth and a thin rope pinning her wrists behind her back. He also had rope for her ankles but hadn’t tied them up; he said he’d wasted enough time already and needed to get her away quickly. And now here they were…at an old warehouse?

Oh how original.

Yes, she should be taking this more seriously as opposed to rolling her eyes as though she was dealing with a toddler who was having an extremely bad tantrum, but she had been the victim how many times before? She was just so tired of it now. So tired of being played with like she was some toy. So tired of being a vessel for someone else to practice their dominance levels on. So tired of people wanting to have control or power over her. It was all so familiar and mentally draining that she couldn’t find it within herself to panic. It was anger and infuriation and loathing that was prevailing over all else. Besides, the bastard wanted her to be a quivering wreck and if he thought she’d give him what he wanted then he was very mistaken.

“I was going to take you to the alleyway where we almost had our fun last time,” he told her as he peeled the tape from her mouth, giving her a quick kiss. Before she could spit at him he twirled her around and, knife at her throat again, roughly guided her into the musty, dull building. “But I figured you’d be a noisy one and there was no chance I was letting anything stop me this time around.”

Jaxxon managed not to gag at the way he was sniffing her hair and licking her neck. “So that’s what all this is about? One act of sexual rape that you never got a chance to commit?”

He roughly grabbed her breast, just like he had last time. “Oh there’s plenty more to it than that.”

“Oh do tell.”

He sniggered at her attitude. Even in a situation like this she came out with smart remarks. “Do you know how old I was when I first decided I was going to have you? Twelve. You and your sister turned up with a social worker at Nick’s uncle’s house. I said to Nick ‘that one’s mine’. You hardly even looked at me.”

And that was because she had felt the callousness pouring off him and Nick in waves. So had Leah – a girl who was never one to stay away from a boy stayed well clear of those two and the rest of the little gang. “You know, when I was twelve and I was in a pet shop with Leah, I pointed to a big white rabbit at the back and said ‘I want that’. I never got it. Do you see me chasing after the sodding thing eight years later?”

“Always the comedian,” he grumbled as he urged her quickly up a flight of stairs. “I can promise you that you won’t be laughing or making jokes in a minute when I’ve got you underneath me. You know, I’m not sure what will turn me on more: you screaming in pleasure, or in pain. Probably pain.”