BEAU2Y: Part 2: Blaire's World (Beauty's Duet #2) Page 8
At the bottom of a wide staircase a tall man dressed in a dark suit walked through an open doorway, his shocked gaze finding mine. I didn’t wait for him to speak, or even move. Raising the gun in my hand, I pointed and fired. He was thrown backwards from the impact. The weapon had been loud, and I knew the wolves would descend quickly now, time was against me. Running on socked feet, I made my way down a long corridor, ducking and sliding under an outstretched hand that sprung from seemingly out of nowhere. Another man, this one dressed in dark combat clothing came at me fast. Again, I lifted the weapon, and shot. It clipped his shoulder and sent him staggering backwards. I didn’t wait to see if it was enough to keep him down, I just kept running toward the back of the house. Eventually I came to a kitchen where a pretty young woman made a startled noise from the sink where she was peeling potatoes. She froze mid peel. Frightened eyes found mine, and I almost staggered under the weight of such a broken look. She’d been to one of Eddie’s parties, the horror of it still lingered like a vile aftertaste. Find Ruby, then I was burning down this house of debauchery.
Before I could pull open the slider though, a fist wrapped itself around my hair, dragging me away from my freedom, and Ruby. My scalp burned, but I ignored the pain. Dropping to the ground, I spun around on my buttocks and sent a jab to the assholes balls. With a garbled cry, the man also in combat clothing dropped to his knees, his hands clutching the bruised appendages between his thighs. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed the glass door open and ran out into the crisp evening air. Familiar sights and sounds assaulted me, and I ignored them all as I jumped down the short row of steps that led to the ground and ran around the pool, slipping on slick tiles.
Heavy-booted feet were closing in on me, but I kept running. My lungs burned for air, my head throbbed, and my legs pumped harder and harder as I tried to push myself faster and faster. The gate at the back of the property was open, and I launched myself through it ducking around familiar trees and an overgrown path that I remembered climbing as a young girl. It led up the south side of the small hill that backed up against my father’s property. My pursuers were still behind me, yelling and cursing as they followed me up the hill. It was just as I peeked the top that a ruthless grip found my arm, spinning me around. His fist immediately grabbed my fragile throat, squeezing tight. Some women might panic when held in such a vulnerable position, but I was well acquainted with strangulation. Keeping calm, I lifted the gun, pressed it to the asshole’s face, and fired. The grip on my throat loosened, and as he fell away, his fingers latched on to my necklace, tearing it free.
“No!” I shouted, abject horror at losing my treasured heart causing my stomach to roll violently.
Falling to my knees, I tried to find the gold chain, my hands fumbling to push aside the body with the missing face as I searched through the overgrown grass. Heavy footsteps broke through my panicked haze, and I looked up in time to see one of my pursuers break through the trees. His gun rose automatically, pointing right at my head. Jumping to my feet, I stumbled on the rocky ground just as the crack of the gun being fired split the air. The earth fell away, and my body was weightless for a moment before I hit the ground, hard. Then, I continued to tumble down the other side of the hill. Somewhere on that plummet, I lost consciousness and awoke to find myself crumpled and restrained in the corner of the barn. Which was inevitably my target anyway, so I guess you could say it was a successful mission.
The bright, florescent light above me flickered on, and my gaze rose to take in the man who inferred that I was his daughter. He was seething with rage, his eyes bugging out of his skull. He looked a hot mess, nothing like my calm and unflappable Hart. Charging through the door to the barn he didn’t stop, simply came at me like a bull. There was no way I could protect myself with my hands tied behind my back. Eddie pulled his fist back and punched me in the stomach. His foot swept me off my feet and once I was on the ground he kicked me, forcing the air from my lungs.
“You insane bitch,” he hissed, as he continued to kick my prone body. Folding in on myself, I tried to protect my head and stomach from his assault. There was no mercy, nor did I ask for any. I didn’t want his fucking mercy, even though my arms felt as though they might rip from their sockets at any moment.
Eventually his attack stopped, and the pacing began. Back and forth in front of me, over and over again. It gave me a chance to catch my breath and fight away the black spots that danced before my vision.
“So, should I call you daddy now?” I wheezed out. Lying on my side, I watched the enraged beast mutter under his breath, casting me sideways glances that were spitting with hate. I couldn’t find a single likeness in the two of us. Perhaps I looked like my mother. Which reminded me . . .
“What happened to my mother?”
Breathing deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, Eddie struggled to maintain his composure. His shoulders rose and fell sharply, his hands were curled into fists at his side, his satin red tie pulled loose and hanging in a mess around his neck. How I wished to take that fabric and hang the man from it. Watching his body spasm as death stole his soul would be a popcorn worthy show.
“I killed her.”
I hadn’t thought he was going to answer me. Having taken his sweet ol’ time, he’d regained some composure and delivered the words with a straight face and casual indifference.
“Whore ran from me, she almost ruined everything. My marriage, my career. I’ve been left dealing with you ever since. If your pussy weren’t worth more alive, I would have drowned you as a baby.”
He probably should have, because I was going to be his downfall, and what a bloody and spectacular fall it would be. Another florescent light flickered above the small stable across from me. With the darkness chased away, I found Ruby sitting on the floor in the middle of the stall. Chains were secured to each wall on either side of her and somehow secured to a thick silver collar around her neck. Her head was hung low, her stringy blonde hair covering her face. Dressed in nothing but her underwear, Ruby’s bony, childlike body was clearly on display. She was too thin, she needed food, shelter, and the love of her family. Eddie turned his back on me, moving slowly towards Ruby’s stable.
“What the fuck are you doing with her?”
He stopped at the door and laced his fingers behind his back, seeming to ignore me. It was a power play, and I was in no damn mood for it.
“You degenerate fuck, she’s just a child, let her go.”
Crawling to my knees was excruciating, but the way he was watching her, inspecting her like one might do cattle, it set my anger ablaze. Pushing to my feet, I readied myself to run at the pervert. With my hands secured they would be useless in an attack, but I could knock him to the floor with my body. Perhaps once on the ground, I could kick him like he did me. Lunging forward, my leg pulled painfully taut causing my foot to slip out from under me. I hit the ground with an audible thud, my chin slamming against the hard floor and causing my teeth to snap together.
“Fuck,” I groaned, rolling to my side and glancing down the length of my body. I hadn’t noticed the chain wrapped around my ankle and attached to the wall behind me. Chained, trapped, a-fucking-gain.
The shuffling of feet caught my attention, and I wiggled to a sitting position and turned to watch Eddie approach with a superior look on his face. Lowering to his haunches, he watched me closely. I didn’t look away, challenging him silently to try and fuck with me.
“You’re different,” he confessed after a short silence.
“So I’ve heard.”
He grinned. “Kreshnik is going to appreciate the fight in you. It was always there, just more subdued before. Now you’re like a wild animal that needs to be put in its place.”
“How about you unchain me and try and put me in my place, daddy.” I spat the word out like an insult. “I might just stab you with a fork, like I did with Christopher.”
Self-righteous arrogance was washed away, and fury left in its place.
�
��So tell me, how’s my dear brother’s throat?”
His fist connected with my cheek, causing the back of my head to ricochet off the wall behind me. It throbbed at both the front and the back, but I shook away those teasing black dots yet again and glared at Eddie. Breathing deeply, I pulled the pain into my body and let it feed my monster.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I whispered.
“I’m keeping the girl. It’s been too long since my last pet. I’ve earned her.”
The growl in my throat was something reminiscent to a wild dog. Moving quickly, I scuffled across the space between us and missed biting his face by no more than an inch. Eyes wide with alarm, Eddie scrambled further out of my reach. Once sure I could not get to him, he smiled.
“Bad dog.”
Breathing hard and fast, I remained on my knees, ready to attack him if he got close enough. I would rip his fucking throat out with my bare teeth if he’d just come a little closer.
“Fucking unbelievable,” Eddie snorted. “You should probably try and get some rest, once Kreshnik gets his hands on you, luxuries such as this will be nothing but a distant memory.”
Turning his back on me, he left. The lights remained burning bright, the sound of a bug zapper buzzing every now and again was the only noise that permeated the building. My eyes remained riveted to the door, waiting for the sick fuck to reappear. He didn’t. Nobody came and eventually the anger surging through my veins dulled, and I rested back against the wall, my attention now on Ruby.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” I eventually murmured. Ruby didn’t look my way. She remained perfectly still. “As soon as I get out of these chains, I’m going to find a blow torch and turn his balls to ash.”
12
HART
The charred scent of smoke clung to my clothes as I glared at Henry, his unwavering eyes staring right back. He looked completely unrepentant for what he’d done, and I’d yet to figure out if I was pissed at him for it, or rather impressed. I was going on four days with little more than sporadic naps, my body both wired with adrenaline and a burning need for Beauty, but also beginning to feel heavy and lethargic in the limbs. I needed sleep, good sleep, but there would be none until Beauty was there by my side. Her warmth curled into my naked flesh. After this fucking debacle, I’d sleep with my limbs twisted around hers to keep her from leaving the bed without me knowing. I’d never let her out of my sight again.
Finally my gaze moved from Henry to the woman sitting beside him. Her hands were tied in front of her body, a swatch of fabric stuffed between her lips and thick masking tape wrapped around her head, holding it in place. Abigail Kleeman was older than she looked in her pictures online, or perhaps she was simply having a bad day. I was betting for the latter. At fifty-two years of age, in all the pictures I’d seen, she never so much as had a hair out of place. Very prim and completely proper. Right now she was a disheveled mess. Her hair was knotted and teased in every direction, and there was not a spec of makeup to be found, her gym attire suggesting Henry nabbed her when she was least expecting company. If her wide, fear-filled gaze hadn’t given away her terror, her trembling body would have. I didn’t have time for a hostage, but we also didn’t have time to fumble about like clueless twats as we tried to find our next lead on Beauty. No matter how I felt about Henry kidnapping her, she was here now, so I guessed I should make the most of it.
“Remove the gag,” I ordered nobody in particular.
Henry moved quickly, using a knife to cut the masking tape free, then he ripped it out of her hair and away from her face, no doubt taking a layer of epidermis with the tape. Abigail shrieked, but remained frozen on the spot, like a deer confronted by a predator for the very first time. I’d bet she’d never been in a quandary quite like this before. If I was in fact her first, I swore to make it memorable.
“I’m not the type of man to enjoy small talk, so I’m going to cut right to the chase. Where might I find your husband, hmmm?”
Abigail’s frightened eyes darted between me, Henry and the men at my back. Beseeching and hopeful. She wouldn’t find what she was looking for in this room. Poor simple fool.
“They can’t help you, and they could care less that you are female, we are all for equality here.”
Nobody said a thing or made a sound as Abigail returned her attention to me. She was licking her lips, trying to return some moisture that had been sucked dry by the fabric that had been shoved in her mouth. There were questions dancing behind her red-rimmed eyes, none of which I gave a single fuck about. Continuing to stand before her, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, hair in disarray and smudges of ash on my face, I waited her out. She would answer, my silence was a threat in itself and she knew it. Shifting with unease, she finally whispered, “He’s in Washington –“
“Incorrect. Your housekeeper in Georgetown admitted as much. He is out of town on personal leave for the next four weeks. As of twelve hours ago, he was at your son’s cabin, but he is no longer there. In fact, the cabin is no longer there either.”
A little line appeared between Abigail’s brows, and her lips formed a frown.
“He’s not in Maine? He told me he was going hunting with the boys, they should be at the cabin. What do you mean it’s not there?” A little indignation filled her tone, the kind of attitude that made this woman the wife of a powerful senator.
“It burnt down, unfortunately they were not inside.”
More shock and confusion laced her features.
“B-but, that’s where he said he’d be, hunting. The cabin burnt down? Are they safe?”
There was no deception, she was genuinely puzzled. She had no idea where her husband was, nor did she have the slightest clue as to what he was up to. This could play into our favor, and Raul’s impressive collection of dirt on the good senator was about to make its value known.
“Where was your husband in the first week of August last year?”
“I don’t understand why you are asking me these –“
“Mrs. Kleeman, I have no problem with torturing the information out of you. In fact, I hope you don’t answer because I am very good at such things, and I am quite tired and pissed off. A good session of making you scream would do wonders for me right now.”
Color leached from her face, and she ever so slightly shuffled further back into the sofa, moving away from the threat standing before her.
“August? He was in Paris at a conference on human rights.”
Raul chuckled as he handed me the stack of papers he’d printed out over the last few days. Glancing down at the information in my hand, I found the picture I was after right on top. Picking it up, I swung it around so Abigail would get a good view. A gasp escaped her lips and her bound hands quickly covered her mouth, as if to trap the sound before it escaped. It was too late though, her shocked response was heard by all. Shaking her head in disbelief, I turned the picture around to take a look for myself. Kleeman was naked, a woman tied down to a spanking bench with a ball gag in her mouth and collar around her neck. A leash attached to the collar was wrapped in Kleeman’s fist, ruthlessly hauling the woman’s head high into the air, arching her neck. He’d been in Paris, I’d give him that, but this was as far from human rights as one could get. This was an event Bear arranged every three months in one of his rooms of debauchery at any given location around the world, hidden behind the obscene wealth of the filthy rich and depraved. The girl Kleeman was fucking was barely a woman, and her youth was obvious in her soft round cheeks and barely developed breasts. The image had been acquired by means of CCTV footage, and Bear would put a price on my head if he learned that we’d managed to hack his system.
“What about February sixteenth?” I asked, moving on to the next picture.
Abigail seemed unable to speak, her head shaking from side to side, her lips opening and closing but no words coming forward.
“Perhaps I can tell you.”
I held up another photo, this one of a girl suspended i
n bondage ropes, her slender thighs parted and Kleeman standing between them with a ravaged look of lust on his face. Eyes wide, teeth bared, his hands gripping her ankles tight. Turning the photo around, I showed Abigail.
“He was in Istanbul, fucking his way through a long line of unwilling girls and women.”
The next photo was just as sick as the others. This one taken in Poland, with Kleeman again naked, his cock buried in yet another young girl, and his fist raised in the air right before he hit her. This time a whimper broke free from the senator’s wife and her eyes closed, a tear escaping and falling down one cheek. Her misery was quite beautiful.
“I am assuming you are quite unaware of your husband’s predilection for raping children and women?”
A blubbering wail broke free. It sounded better than the finest symphony, and I had attended my fair share of productions over the years.
“Not such a wholesome hobby for a man who sits beside you in church, hmmm? Did you know he purchases girls as sex slaves and houses them in your family holiday homes?”
She shook her head vehemently.