Retribution Read online

  Something dripped in the distance as I set my bag down and unzipped it, taking out the whip I’d used to lash Elle. She took it without a word, running its length through the palm of one hand while I unbuttoned my shirt, seeing her eyes narrow as she watched me strip it off, moving over the cut of muscle, the ink.

  “Bleed me, Alex.”

  She nodded slightly, and I moved to the posts, my heartbeat not even having picked up, my body knowing the plan. Standing between them, I reached out my arms and gripped the chains, winding them around my wrists. Her manicured hand reached to bind me.

  “No.”

  “You’ll need to be bound if you want me to draw blood,” she said.

  “I said no.” I would stand on my own. I would not be weak. “Bleed me.”

  “As you wish,” she said, an unmistakable note of cruelty in her voice.

  I’d known Alex a long time. She’d filled at least a little bit of the hole Alessandra’s death had left.

  All thought ceased when the first lash struck. My fingers curled around the chain as fire seared cold, unprepared skin. Widening my stance for stability I forced myself to stare straight ahead. The next stroke fell, this one spanning my shoulders, my upper arms. The third one just below that.

  Alex was good. She calculated each lash, lining them up neatly, one after another after another, her arm never tiring even as her breathing tightened, and when she had lain two dozen strokes to line the whole of my back, she began again, from the top, criss-crossing the neat rows, my body pure agony as stroke after stroke fell, warm blood sliding over welted flesh giving me strength to grip the chains harder, to force my knees to lock, my legs to support me as she ripped my back open, punishing me for my weakness, for forgetting.

  Fourteen. I’d stopped at fourteen. I should have given Elle the full thirty-six, but, now, I would take those strokes for her and more. I owed it to Alessandra, to her memory. I would take this pain the same as I exacted it from Elle. I would let it feed me, it would make me strong. I would remember why I did this. I would remember. I would fucking remember and I would not allow mercy to creep in between the cracks again. I would not allow weakness.

  “Adam. Adam, look at me.”

  Alex stood before me, the whip in one hand, my face in her other.

  “It’s done, Adam.”

  Agony. I trembled in agony. But I shook my head. “Not yet.” My voice, a hoarse rumble, bounced off the walls.

  She shook her head. “Your back can’t take any more. We’re done.”

  “I said not yet.”

  She studied me, her eyes searching mine until finally, she gave in and took a step back. She didn’t meet my eyes as she punished me, my weakness. Not until, finally, she dropped the whip moments before my knees would have given out, my legs failing me.

  “Enough,” she said, her eyes shiny with tears.

  Or did those tears belong to me?

  She pushed a stool toward me then turned to the cupboard and opened it while I unwound my wrists, the chains having dug into flesh so my hands had grown numb. I stumbled when I let go. Alex didn’t turn to help me. She knew better. I sat on the stool, every movement causing a new pain. And it wasn’t over yet.

  She smiled at me when she approached with a tray of bandages and antiseptic.

  “Who is she?” she asked again as she cleaned me.

  I hissed with the contact as antiseptic stung me, but gritted my teeth. I would endure. I would endure. What had Alessandra suffered through? This was nothing compared to that.

  “Elle Vega.”

  Her hand froze on my back.

  A moment later, she squatted before me. “Adam, what are you doing?” Her face had gone white. I reached a hand to wipe away a tear.

  “I am avenging my sister’s death. Avenging all of his victims. You included.”

  She shook her head. “You have her? His daughter?”

  “I do.”

  “He’ll kill you, Adam.”

  “Only after I’ve broken what he loves most.”

  “Adam, no. It’s not worth —”

  “Shh. Let’s finish this.”

  She had so much more to say, but she knew better. Instead, she worked in silence, dressing my wounds, and all the while, with each burning application of antiseptic, I grew stronger, my purpose clearer. And when I rode back to Manhattan, the sun rose, days of clouds and rain finally vanquished. At the penthouse, I climbed into my bed and slept the deepest sleep I’d slept in months.

  SHOULD I HAVE FELT relief when the next time the door opened it wasn’t Adam but Dr. Acosta? I stood, hugging the blanket tight to me when he came in, where he stopped for a moment and took in the space, and then me, obvious from the widening of his eyes this was the first time he’d been here.

  “Dr. Acosta?” I asked.

  He closed the door behind him, visibly uncomfortable. I noticed then he carried a grocery bag in addition to his medical bag, and I knew in my heart he wasn’t here to help me. He hadn’t simply stumbled upon this place. It was locked up tight. I was locked up tight.

  He didn’t even take off his coat. Apparently, he wouldn’t be staying long.

  I walked toward him, stopping at the bars separating us. His eyes shifted, giving away his nervousness.

  “Doctor?”

  Clearing his throat, he straightened to his full height, a mask of indifference shielding any emotion.

  “It’s time to take those sutures out, Elle,” he said, smiling, as if I’d been sitting in his office like a regular old patient.

  “What?”

  “Let’s have a look,” he said, unlocking the cell door and pushing it open.

  “No. No, you have to let me out of here before he comes back.”

  “Sit down, please.”

  “No!” I pushed against him when he took me by the shoulders to physically take me to the cot. “He’s kidnapped me! You can’t mean to help him!”

  He stopped. “Elle.”

  “Please, you have to help me.”

  Shaking me once, he repeated my name, his fingers digging into my shoulders making me stop to meet his gaze. Panic pumped blood hard through my veins, and what I saw in his eyes stole all hope from me.

  “Dr., please…”

  “Sit down, Elle. Don’t make me sedate you.”

  “Sedate me?”

  He only nodded.

  “You’re not here to help me, are you?”

  “I am here to help you as I can medically.”

  “Where is he? Where’s Adam?”

  “Sit down. I won’t ask nicely again.”

  I saw him as if for the first time. He worked for Adam. He would do what Adam would have him do.

  I sat and he smiled. He took the seat Adam usually sat in.

  “Let me see your hand.”

  I held it out to him, waves of hopelessness washing over me again. I couldn’t let that happen, though. I couldn’t lose hope. As soon as I did, I may as well be dead.

  Dr. Acosta examined my hand and nodded approvingly. “We’ll take those stitches out then I want to examine you. Adam tells me you’re not eating.”

  “Why are you helping him?”

  He opened his medical bag and retrieved a pair of gloves, scissors, and antiseptic.

  “Because I treated Alessandra when she returned home.” He cleaned my hand. “I saw what had happened to her, and I saw what it did to their parents, to Adam.” He paused, meeting my gaze. “Your father is responsible for their pain, and Adam has a right to his revenge.”

  “You both blame my father so easily. How can you be so sure? You don’t know him.” It couldn’t be right, what he said. What they both believed.

  But Dr. Acosta appeared weary. “It’s you who doesn’t know him, Elle, and I’m sorry for you.”

  “What about me? If you’re sorry for me, help me.”

  “You are Manuel Vega’s daughter.”

  “My father couldn’t have done what Adam thinks he did. He’s not perfect, but he couldn�
��t have done what Adam’s accused him of.”

  Acosta just snorted and shook his head, gripping my hand harder while taking out the stitches.

  “Adam will take better care of you than your father did of his sister. He is a good man.”

  “How is he good? What he’s doing to me, it’s what he accuses my father of having done to his sister. How can one be good if the other is evil?”

  He worked without speaking for the next few moments. “Are you so convinced your father is innocent, Elle?” he asked once he’d finished. “Haven’t you ever wondered where all the money comes from? Surely you realize a food supplier doesn’t earn his sort of wealth. Haven’t you ever wondered why both he and your uncle travel with a brigade of bodyguards?”

  I had wondered but never questioned.

  “You know, all you have to do to learn the truth is a little investigating, but it’s always easier to turn a blind eye, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know your sort.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Lie down so I can examine your back.”

  “I said fuck you!” I stood, but he stood right along with me, his grip on my wrist tight.

  “Sit down,” he said, his tone calm.

  “You don’t hear very well, do you, Doctor?”

  The steel door opened then, and I stopped, my heart hammering to find Adam’s hulking form in the doorway.

  My stomach lurched.

  “I told you to sedate her if she gave you any trouble,” he said, coming inside.

  “You’re both fucking insane.”

  “Sutures are out,” Acosta said to Adam as he entered the cell.

  “Good. Did she eat?” He flinched when taking off his jacket, as if he were in some sort of pain.

  “Haven’t gotten there yet.”

  “I’m right fucking here, and you can both go fuck yourselves.”

  Adam smiled at me, a freshness to that smile that worried me. As if he’d gotten a second wind while I’d been wasting away.

  “Why don’t you leave her to me, Doctor. She’s clearly agitated.”

  “Agitated?”

  The doctor packed up his bag.

  “I can return to feed her intravenously if you need me to.”

  “Intravenous?”

  “That won’t be necessary, will it, Elle?” Adam asked me, taking out a container of food.

  I looked at them, at these two men. My skin came alive, every part of me prickling, every hair standing on end. I was well and truly a prisoner.

  No. I couldn’t allow this to happen. I couldn’t lose hope. If I did, I was finished.

  “Fuck you,” I spat, taking the container of food and opening it.

  Adam smiled and held out a fork. “See, she’s very reasonable,” he said to Acosta who chuckled.

  Tears of frustration threatened and I turned my attention from them to the container of guacamole and homemade nacho chips surrounding it. He’d brought Mexican from the night he’d taken me out. He’d remembered how much I’d loved the guacamole. Now, I had to force the stuff down, but I did it because they both stood watching me, and I knew they meant every word they said. I had no doubt they would bind me and stick a needle in my arm if I didn’t eat, and so, I ate. I ate every last bite.

  “That’s a good girl,” Adam said, taking the empty container.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Your vocabulary seems limited today.”

  “I’ll be on my way, unless you need me, Adam,” Acosta said.

  Adam’s gaze bore into mine, the dark glint there sending shivers through me. “I’ll manage. Thank you, Doctor.”

  I saw Acosta nod from the corner of my eye before he left, the sound of the steel door closing behind him making me shudder as Adam grinned. He stepped closer. I held my ground, forcing myself to see him in his true form: a sadist. A twisted, wicked monster.

  “I ate. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “You seem agitated, Elle.”

  This time when he came toward me, I stepped back. His eyes frightened me, but worse, they drew me at the same time.

  “I know how to get through that agitation.” He pressed me against the wall with his body, his hands on either side of my face, his eyes burning hot, his cock hard against my belly. Everything about him screamed danger. And yet, everything about him drew me, left me breathless, wanting.

  With a tug at the blanket I somehow still held on to, I stood naked as he closed his mouth over mine. My hands went to his chest, and he sucked in a breath when I pressed against it, trying to push him away. The kiss grew hungrier and he ground against me as I unbuttoned his shirt, needing him. As wrong as it was, I needed him. I needed this man.

  I kissed him back, remembering his words about my next punishment but forcing the memory away. When I tried to open his shirt, he closed his hands over mine, halting me, still kissing me. I felt something there, against his chest, and opened my eyes.

  “Adam?”

  He kissed again, releasing one of my hands to grip between my legs, taking my throbbing sex into his hand, forcing me to lose my breath.

  “This what you need to relax a little, Elle?” he said, kissing the side of my face, rubbing my clit hard. “You need me to fuck you?” He kissed me again then commanded, “Take my cock out.”

  I blinked my eyes open to meet his, both trembling hands moving to his jeans, unbuttoning them, pushing them and his briefs down to grip his cock.

  “That’s it. Good girl,” he said, kissing me again.

  I undid two more buttons on his shirt and pushed the fine material aside. Adam groaned, pausing mid-kiss. I opened my eyes. He lifted me, trapping me between him and the wall. Big hands gripped my ass, and he slid me onto himself, making me bite my lip with the pleasure-pain. When I gripped his shoulders, his body stilled for a moment. But then, he kissed me again, thrusting harder once more before gripping me tight, his cock buried inside me.

  His eyes burned with desire and he licked then bit my lip. “I want your ass, Elle,” he said, not asking. He ground into me, making me cry out, his fingers digging into my hips, his mouth hot on mine. My clit throbbed as he pulled out, lowering me to my feet, turning me so my back was to him. He kissed my shoulder while his hand wrapped around my neck and, slowly, he brought us to our knees, forcing my forehead to the floor.

  “Put your face down,” he said, his cock sliding into my pussy again.

  I glanced back to watch him spit on his hand then bring those fingers to my ass.

  “Adam,” I started.

  “Shh. Face down and be quiet. When you come, you can scream my name, but, until then, you’re quiet.” One hand held my head down while the other pushed into my asshole. I cried out with it, the intrusion too much, too fast. He soothed me, rubbing my scalp before pulling his hand away to bring it to my clit. “Come with my cock in your pussy and my finger in your ass, Elle. Come.” He rubbed hard and fast, and I felt him slide a second finger into my asshole, pumping slowly in and out, and I did as he said. I came. I gushed on his cock, my cunt throbbing against it, the walls of my ass squeezing his fingers tight. I came hard, orgasm leaving me breathless and weak as he slid out of me and gripped my hips, spreading my ass cheeks open to bring his cock to my ass.

  “How does it feel, Elle,” he began, pausing to press against my asshole.

  I craned my neck to watch his face, squeezing my eyes shut as he pushed the thick head of his cock into my ass.

  “Oh, please…” I was going to beg him to stop, I think I was, but then he brought his hand to my clit again, and his eyes met mine.

  “How does it feel,” he said again, pushing in deeper, hurting me, stretching me too fast. “To come on your enemy’s cock?” Again, another thrust, this one making me clench my hands into fists. When I tried to pull away, he only gripped harder with the one hand while rubbing my clit with the other. “To come with your captor’s cock inside your pussy? Inside your ass.” As he said it, I came again, all
while he moved in and out of me in a slow, steady rhythm, pain turning into pleasure then pain again when he took more then pleasure again as I stretched to accommodate him. But it was as though the one would never be without the other. “Tell me,” he continued once I blinked my eyes open.

  “No more,” I tried, reaching to take his fingers from my clit.

  He laughed. “Stretch your arms out to the sides.”

  I did. Without a thought, I did, because even as he laughed, as he took another painful inch, another orgasm, already built inside me, this one coiled like a serpent growing stronger, bigger, threatening to swallow me whole as Adam seated himself fully deep inside my ass.

  “How does it feel to have my cock inside your ass, Elle?” he asked, slapping my hip once.

  I arched my back, unable to speak.

  “Are you going to orgasm again when I fill you up with my cum?”

  Yes. Yes. God help me, yes I was.

  “Say it!” He slapped my hip again.

  “Yes! Please, yes!”

  He laughed then and pulled all the way out, only to thrust in so hard, I cried out.

  “Take it. Take my cock inside your ass. I own you, Elle. I own every part of you.”

  Yes he did. Because right now, my world was Adam. It was his cock inside me, his fingers on me, his breath at my back, his balls slapping against me as he fucked me harder and harder, and as he swelled inside me, as I felt his cock thicken and throb, as I felt the first stream of semen release inside me, I came again, falling flat, Adam’s weight heavy on me as he leaned over my back, his breath short and shallow as I squeezed every drop of cum out of him, taking it inside me, belonging to him wholly.

  “I own you.”

  ELLE SHOWERED WHILE I watched, my shirt buttoned up tight again. She’d almost seen the marks on my chest and back. I knew she’d felt the bandages but doubted she realized what they covered.

  I felt good. I felt…myself. I’d fucked her hard, taken her ass tonight. I’d meant it when I’d said I owned her. She just had no idea what the hell that meant for her.