Warning: we are getting into it. The sexual scenes that take place in this chapter do contain non-consensual sex, humiliation, forced orgasms. If you don't like those types of stories, don't read this. The characters are villains -- bad guys -- doing things that villains do. I do not condone these actions in any way or believe that these actions in reality are ever acceptable. It is just a story.
Last chance to turn back if you're not into it. For those who do -- I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Please share your comments and feedback (good and bad!). Given the longer break between chapters 2-3, I'm hoping to have Chapter 4 out in a couple of days.
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Chase keeps his hands off Riley as they walk silently down a hallway towards the back of the house. She follows him without argument, without even the thought of running. Between what she just saw with James, the growing pain in her side, and the complete understanding that Chase's quiet calm is just a cover for how truly brutal he can be -- she doesn't have it in her to fight in this moment. He stops her just outside of a door at the end of a long hallway. Riley looks around as Chase opens the door, wondering who else might be in this giant house.
Chase pulls Riley into the room and closes the door behind them. She quickly realizes it's an office. The room looks older and less modern than the rest of the house. There is a big wooden desk across from a large brown leather couch, and book cases lining the walls.
He wouldn't kill me in here
,
Riley thinks to herself.
It'd be too far to carry my body.
Riley takes the room in. A picture frame on one of the bookshelves catches her eye. She walks towards it. In the photo are two smiling, young teenage boys and their fathers. The boys are holding up trophies, dressed in basketball uniforms. She immediately recognizes both of them. She picks it up in her hands, utterly confused. She looks at Chase.
"This is my brother," she says. She swallows. "And yours... and... our..."
Chase walks towards her. He stares down at the frame. The boys couldn't have been older than maybe 14. "Yeah, it is. They were friends."
"But why would you... I don't understand why you would keep this."
Chase grabs it from her and places it back on the shelf. "As a reminder of who the enemy is. And how he became the enemy."
Riley makes a face. "Was it all that drug trafficking and murder your father was doing?"
Chase just laughs. "Sit, Riley," Chase tells her. He motions to the couch.
"I'm not a dog!" she yells at him. She realizes the error as soon as she bites back at him. He raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms across his chest. Riley silently complies and sits down. Chase walks over towards the desk and looks at a few things before sitting down on the edge of it, staring at her, just watching her. Riley pulls her knees to her chest, clearly uncomfortable.
"This was my father's office," he says. Riley swallows. The fact that he is so calm and casual after killing someone just a few moments before makes her even more afraid of him. She wonders how many people he's killed like that -- as if he were just doing something mundane like ordering coffee. "I didn't always agree with the way he did things, but I loved him. It's gut wrenching to lose a parent, isn't it?" Riley turns away from him, crossing her arms against her knees, and burying her face in her elbow, trying to hide her tears. "You know, I watched my father die. Was your father dead when you found him? Or was he quietly gasping for air, clinging to life?"
"Stop," Riley mumbles quietly. But he doesn't.
"That was harder than losing him. Seeing him lying there, lifeless, so close to death, not being able to help. You just feel so... lost. Broken." He pauses. He pushes off the desk and walks towards her. He sits down next to her, and reaches out a hand to gently turn her towards him. "Did you try to fix him? I remember, hearing during the trial that you had blood on your hands when they found you. They thought you had tried to fix him. That you didn't understand that he couldn't be fixed."
This is worse, she thinks. This is worse than anything physical he could do to her. He looks deep into her eyes, watching them overflowing with tears. She's trying so hard not to give him the satisfaction. "You must have been scared. Watching my father die was the most scared I've ever felt. We have that in common."
She wipes her nose, sniffling. She can barely get the words out. "We aren't the same! I didn't choose this life. You did. You had a whole life with your father. I barely remember mine. And my mother. Both of them. Your brother took them from me. And your father..."
"Our families are a lot more alike than you think, Riley. You and me, your brother and my brother, even our fathers."
She shakes her head, angry now. "No! That's not true!"
He laughs. "You are hopelessly clueless," he says, looking at her. "Aren't you?"
"No! Your family is a bunch of criminals who built their lives off of hurting other people. We are nothing like you! My father was a good man. My brother is a good man." She leans towards him. "Your father was a degenerate and your brother is a murderer!" she yells into his face.
Chase grabs her chin roughly and she gasps. Holding her face so he can stare deep into her eyes. He is so close to her she can feel his breath on her cheeks. "Careful Riley, so am I." They stare at each other for a few seconds, Riley's breath heavy, before he smiles at her and pulls back. "Maybe it's time we give your brother a call." He pauses, "what do you think? Face time?"
Chase takes his phone out of his pocket and starts dialing Ben's number.
Ben is standing in his living room, wondering what to do next when he hears the phone ring. He looks down at a number he doesn't recognize and picks up. "Hello?"
"Hi Ben. How are you? You having a nice night?"
He stares puzzled at the face looking back at him. "Chase?"
"You know, it is uncanny, Ben. How much Riley looks like your father." Ben feels like he's going to vomit. He's stunned into silence. "She's tough like him too."
"I want to talk to her."
Chase turns the phone, grabbing Riley by the hair, and pulling her across his lap. He holds the phone up so Ben can see her. She groans in pain, his hand tight against her scalp. Ben stares back at his sister. She looks relatively okay -- just scared. Her eyes are bloodshot and he can tell she's been crying. She can't help it; the minute she sees her brother's face she starts sobbing.
"Ben! Ben, I'm really sorry. I..."
"Riley, are you all right? Has he hurt you?"
"I'm okay." She looks at Chase. "Ben, we're in the..."
Chase quickly covers her mouth with his hand, pulling her against him, and continuing to talk to Ben. "You didn't hold up your end of the deal, Ben. So you owe my brother and me something, don't you?"
"You don't need to involve her in this. We had a deal. You and me. It doesn't involve her and it sure as hell doesn't have to involve your brother.."
"You scared, Ben?"
"Chase, come on. You know what he's capable of. She's 18 years old. Let's settle this you and me. No one else."
Chase looks down at Riley. "Good. Fear is a great motivator." Riley struggles to rip Chase's hand off her mouth. "You call me when you have what's mine, and keep your FBI friends away in the meantime. I'll do what I can to avoid taking her apart piece by piece."
"I don't have it, Chase. You know that."
Chase takes a deep breath, looking down at Riley, and then back to Ben. "That's unfortunate. Maybe she could work it off. I'm not usually in the human trafficking game, but I have some connections. Pretty young girls like her always fetch a good price." Riley struggles against him and looks pleadingly at her brother.
"Don't even..."
"You have three days Ben. Bring me what you owe me, or she'll earn it for me."
Ben shakes his head -- a mix of fear and anger overwhelms him. "If you hurt her, I swear to God, I'll kill you with my bare hands."
"You have a good night, Ben." He ends the call and drops his hand from her mouth. She moves away from him but turns to face him.
"What was that about?" she asks. "What deal? What does he owe you?" Chase just shakes his head. "What does he owe you? Chase!" He is annoyed with her little teenage temper tantrum.
"Get up." Riley folds her arms across her chest.
"What does he owe you? What the hell are you talking about?"
"I said, get up." He repeats it slower. Riley is livid. She feels like there is a secret that involves her, and yet he won't tell her. She takes another swing at him, and he catches her fist in his hand, squeezing it. He pulls her up by that arm, keeping his hand on her. "Don't. Ever. Do That. Again."
Riley is trembling as she stares at him. He pulls her closer to him. "Listen to me. I'm a bad guy, who's generally a good guy. I don't make a habit of hurting women, especially ones so young. I don't want to hurt you. But in the last four hours, you've broken someone's nose, tried to run away, gotten a man killed, punched me in the face, and pulled a gun on me. That means you're out of chances. If you try something stupid again, you will regret it, do you understand me?"
Riley nods, partially too afraid to speak, partially too afraid to give him the satisfaction of a verbal answer. He grabs her around the throat and squeezes, slightly cutting off her air. She grabs at his hand.
"I need you to hear you say, 'yes.'" He squeezes her throat and releases, but keeps his hand on her neck.
"Yes."
"Yes what?" He squeezes again, harder this time, cutting off her air and making her face red, before releasing her again.
"Yes, I understand you. I'll be good."
He drops his hands to her shoulders, gently massaging them, staring deep into her eyes. "Good. Do not mistake my kindness for weakness, Riley. Test me again you will learn my limits for rebellion." Riley blinks a tear out of her eye.
He lets go of her and shoves her towards the door. He opens it. Logan is standing there, leaning against the wall, and looking like he's not sure where he is. Chase pushes Riley towards him.
"Take her to the guest room on the third floor. Lock her in. Make sure she doesn't go anywhere." He looks at her. He can tell what she's thinking. "I should tell my brother we have a guest."
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Logan and Riley reach the third floor having said nothing to each other. He unlocks the door to the room and motions for her to walk inside. Riley enters and looks around her. The room is fairly large with a good amount of open space. There is a tall wardrobe in the corner, and a modern looking four poster king sized bed with a grey comforter. The bed is nicely made, as if it's usually a guest room and not a place to stash prisoners. There is also a small round table with two chairs, and a black chaise opposite the bed. There are no windows, but a large sliding door leading out onto a balcony. Riley looks at it. She wonders how far down it is.
"It's locked," Logan says to her, almost reading her mind. "And the glass is shatter proof." Riley stares at him. "They um... they keep people in here sometimes. You're lucky. There are other places here that aren't so..." he trails off. She doesn't feel lucky. She feels sick.
