The Ranch

"Katie?!"

Katie groaned, feeling nauseous.

"Katie!!"

"What?" she mumbled sulkily, eyes still closed. She was uncomfortable, but she couldn't shift into a better position or massage the throbbing in her temples.

"Are you ok?"

"Huh...?" Brow furrowed with discomfort, Katie groggily became aware of the sensations around her. The choking smell of dirt and rust. A hard pillow under her head and a rough, scratchy material against her back. Cold metal on her wrists and ankles.

"Jesus. This is not how I envisioned spending the afternoon," Cory reflected. Though his words were light-hearted, the tone of his voice was laced with the severity of their situation.

Katie absently tugged against her restraints, and on the end of a deep sigh her green eyes drifted open. She was alone, looking up at a dirty, wooden ceiling, where cracks of light spiked though, giving her a dim idea of her surroundings. The room was like a big shed, or an underground bunker, but she couldn't tell because the walls seemed to be blacked out, the room's only light sprinkled through the ceiling. The other side of the room was encased in earthy darkness. Turning her head to the side, she noticed that an orange opaque shower curtain, about two metres from the side of her bed, had been taped across a thin pipeline running along the ceiling, blocking her view.

"What the fuck?" she gasped, arching her torso and twisting her head back to discover her wrists had been handcuffed to a hospital-grade bed's rusted metal frame. Jerking her head down, she realised her ankles had each been handcuffed to the lower corners of the bed. Trying to pull free by raising hers knees, she couldn't even close her legs. Most concerning of all, she was completely naked.

"Katie? Talk to me!" Cory's deep voice sharply emitted from the other side of the curtain.

"Oh, God," Katie whimpered, her cuffs clinking against the metal as she futilely rattled them.

"Katie! Are you hurt?" he persisted, voice raised in concern for her welfare.

"I-I'm ok," she confirmed numbly. "For now." She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds and opened them again. "Yep, still here."

"Don't worry, we'll get out of this," Cory assured her in his relief, though he knew they were in a pretty dire situation.

"Ummm Cory?" Katie called to the orange curtain hesitantly.

"Yes? What?"

"Do you have any... I mean... a-are you dressed?"

On the other side of the curtain, Cory's fists clenched in his handcuffs and he grit his teeth in anger. "Yes, I am. He took your clothes?" Knowing the answer, he shut his eyes in frustration. Of course their attacker would have a sexual interest in Katie, any straight man with a working dick would want her.

Katie turned her head, afraid she'd go to pieces if she answered him, trying to comfort herself by pressing her face against her arm.

"That fuck!" Cory snarled, and his head hit the pillow as he slammed back in a rage, causing his bed to jump against the floor.

"No..." a chilling voice floated from the darker side of the room. "You can call me Greg."

Greg chuckled at the stunned silence that greeted his words, as both his victims realised he'd been there the whole time. The sedative was his own personal concoction, perfected to temporarily subdue people of various weights and sizes, at the experimental cost of several lives.

Unsurprisingly Cory had regained consciousness first. After furiously trying to get free, he spent the rest of the time desperately trying to get Katie's attention, while Greg sat patiently in the dark, like a spider watching a fly twirl in its web. He'd been there ever since he fixed them to the beds, mostly admiring Katie's nakedness.

Greg thoroughly enjoyed Cory's fear for Katie. He could sense it, smell it, hear it, the tremor in Cory's voice as he called out, not knowing if she was hurt, or dead. Greg was fascinated that Cory could be so desperately concerned for a girl he'd known for less than a week. But then again, Greg remembered Dom's immediate obsession with Katie, which was intense to begin with and had steadily increased over time.

Greg gently shook his head, unable to comprehend peoples' attachment to each other, what he perceived to be a character-weakening dependency. But as he ran his eyes down Katie's naked body, he figured she was probably worth the attention. Despite his usual cold-blooded attitude towards women, he recognised there was limited stock of Katie's quality. Even if he didn't have to return her to Dom, she would be worth keeping alive, and for him, that was saying something. If they didn't have such a lucrative arrangement, he'd have abducted her from right under Dom's nose a long time ago.

"What do you want?" Cory growled, interrupting Greg's reverie.

Now they were awake and aware of his presence, Greg leisurely lit a cigarette, his calm face temporarily illuminated by the lighter's flame. Slowly drawing on it, his brown eyes eerily reflected its burning end, giving him a devilish appearance.

"Oh, I'm just doing a friend a favour," he replied gently.

Cory looked at the ceiling, knowing he was being toyed with. His current situation made him almost as angry at himself as he was with their captor - how could they be so naive as to assume the guy would retreat without an argument and just disappear into the sunset? Seeing Greg's emotionless eyes, Cory knew they faced a deadly uphill battle.

Still smoking, Greg stood and strolled forward from the shadows, so both Cory and Katie could clearly see him from their respective sides of the curtain. In her fright, Katie didn't feel embarrassed about being unclothed, but she certainly dreaded the purpose behind her nakedness.

Greg was of stocky build, like a boxer, and dressed in green army trousers and a fitting grey t-shirt. As he approached, Katie wanted to shut her eyes, but she was too terrified. It was like she was tied to the tracks, unable to drag her eyes from the train as it hurtled towards her at full-speed.

"We're going to play an interesting game," Greg smiled, making eye contact with each of them as he raised the cigarette to his lips. Savouring another long hit of nicotine, he fixed his eyes on Katie's gorgeous naked body, tensed with trepidation at the sight of him. He liked that.

"The rules change, depending on the players," he murmured, walking to Katie's side of the curtain, shielded from Cory's view. She started as he suddenly stubbed his cigarette out on the pillow next to her face.

"We could generically call it 'Sex and Violence'. Usually it's just two-players," he explained, sitting beside Katie on the bed. "But it'll last much longer with three players, seeing as one of you is expendable, and the other is not. So the violence..." he jerked his head to Cory's side of the curtain, not needing to finish his sentence as Katie's eyes widened in horror.

For a moment Greg stared at her hungrily, never before given the opportunity to get this close, let alone see her naked. The terror in the emerald depths of her gaze, brightened with unshed tears, was deliciously addictive. No wonder Dom was going crazy without her.

"And the sex..." he whispered, not bothering to elaborate upon the obvious meaning. To emphasise his point, his hand crept up her bare waist and slowly closed over her breast.

"It's so nice to see you again, Katie," Greg told her sweetly, as she tried to jerk away from his touch. He laughed darkly. "I'd like to say it's a shame we had to reconnect under these circumstances, but we both know I'd be lying." He licked his lips with a twisted smile.

Even though he was on the other side of the curtain, Cory heard every word crystal clear, recognising that Greg was sick, a bona fide sadist. The curtain was just another element to torture them - they couldn't see what was happening to each other, but they'd hear everything in perfect detail. The tactic was working on him already.

"Dom will kill you," Katie whimpered, trying to suppress her trembling as Greg caressed her breast. "He'll kill you for touching me."

"Actually," Greg spoke pleasantly, as though they were having a conversation at a cafe, "I have his express permission to teach you a few things." He flicked her nipple with his index finger and felt an excited shiver run though him. His dark, cold eyes flared as the sensitive peak stiffened, and he imagined slicing it off, watching bright rivulets of red run across her soft, flawless skin.

"I offered my services a long time ago, but," he shrugged nonchalantly, "he turned me down. Even when you ran away, I offered to bring you back, at a price of course. But he wanted to get you himself." His brown eyes gleamed at the pained expression on Katie's face as she tried to ignore his hand playing along her chest.

"Then, he calls the calvary. And, boy, is he mad. He tells me where he is, and," Greg paused with a chuckle, "tells me as soon as he'd found you, some cowboy ambushed him 'James Bond' style, and fucked up his face."

Greg's shoulders shook as he silently laughed at the memory. Sobering, his dark eyes ran up and down Katie's slim length before fixing on his hand as it travelled from her breast up to her throat, fingers playfully drumming along her neckline, feeling her rapid pulse.

"So, I paid the ranch a visit as soon as I could. I get my price, after all. Remind me to thank your cowboy when we pay him a visit, after I'm done here. Though if he's as heavy as your friend, it'd take a load off if he came to us. Mark, right? You should see what he did to Dom's face, well, I'll let you judge for yourself.

"Dom is particularly displeased with you, Katie," Greg scolded her, like a doting grandparent. "He was furious enough to involve me. Figured it'd be the perfect way to punish you." He suddenly tightened his fingers around her slim throat, cutting off her airway, then released his grip almost immediately and she gasped her shock and relief.

"Now, I finally get to play with you," Greg continued, straightening his torso, and the way his kind smile contrasted with his dead eyes was terrifying. "Just play, that's all."

Greg tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully. "I thought about doing things that I could blame on your new friends. But then," he sighed, "I gamble that if I return you unscathed, thoroughly tamed, Dom might be convinced to let me play with you later. Maybe we can both play with you at the same time. That would be so much fun," he said, and his bizarre smile transformed into an manic grin as Katie's jaw dropped, horrified by the prospect.

Cory listened carefully from the other side of the curtain, his body shaking with a seething fury. Although his heart pounded with a black hate, he knew it wouldn't do either of them any good if he lost his mind and verbally abused Greg at this stage. He needed to keep this thoughts together, stay alert, keep an eye out for a critical opportunity.

"Let him go." Cory heard Katie beg for him. "You came here for me," she argued desperately. "And you've got me. Let him go, you don't have to kill him."

Katie felt awful. Not for herself, but for Cory; there would be ample time to feel sorry for herself later. After the kindness he'd shown her, his death would be on her hands, and evidently Greg was going after Mark as well. Spending time at the ranch, she'd felt safe for the first time in a long time, and it had felt so good to laugh again. But not if she was going to be dragged back to Dom in the end, at the price of innocent lives. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes and she inwardly cursed her lack of control as her eyelashes were dampened by the moisture that dripped down her temples.

"Please, Greg," she wept, "I'll do whatever you want. I'll do anything. Let him go."

"Oh, I know you'll do what I want," Greg replied in a lightly patronising tone and leaned over her, his brown eyes heavy-lidded with smug desire as he deliberately extended his tongue to lick her. When she instinctively strained her head to the side, he brutally gripped her jaw and whipped her head back to face him.

"Well, how quickly we forget the things we say," he sniggered. Releasing his hold, he waggled a finger at her warningly, then tapped it on the tip of her pretty nose with each word. "Don't. Move. Sit. Stay."

Katie closed her eyes and forced herself to lay idle as Greg breathed deeply and lowered his head, his blond hair brushing her cheek, nudging against her affectionately, like they were two animals courting in the wild. Then he turned his face into her temple, and in one awful, slow lick, he collected the trail of Katie's tears from her ear right up to the corner of her eye.

"Mmmm, tasty," Greg breathed delightedly as Katie shuddered with revulsion. "Did you like that? I bet you did. I bet you can't wait to return the favour." He stood and walked over to the dark end of the room, and both Cory and Katie strained forward to see his movements.

"Well," Greg said mildly, his head tilted thoughtfully as he sauntered forward, and in his hand glinted a sharply curved, mean-looking knife. "Where shall we begin?"

********************************************************************

Cory and Katie's horses back in their stalls, Mark watched them absently, smoking his cigar.

Despite his controlled composure, he was extremely disturbed. He hated not knowing what had happened to them, he hated being in the dark. Even if they'd been distracted with each other, he knew Cory would never be so careless with the horses. Though he had smiled self-assuringly at the time, his heart skipped a beat upon being informed the horses had found their way home, riderless.

Mark rarely showed it, but Cory was like a brother to him. Even without a blood-line to relate them, Cory was the only family he had. It would have greatly surprised Cory to know that despite all the mocking and cocky indifference, Mark was emotionally dependent upon him.

Mark was also afraid for Katie. When he'd been notified of their disappearance, he quickly diagnosed his unusual feelings. On this rare occasion, shedding his pride, he turned his sharp perception against himself. The reality irked him, as he finally understood his determination to rescue Katie was his subconscious pursuit of closure. Perhaps if he saved her, he wouldn't feel so guilty about failing to save his mother. If he fixed Katie's life, maybe he could even the score and forgive himself. He'd sealed that hope the instant his fist first collided with Dom's face. He had developed a genuine affection for Katie by drawing parallels between her and his mother.

Now he felt starkly more helpless than in his childhood. Both Cory and Katie were missing, and though the recent events had entertained him by adding colour to his routine lifestyle with all the lust and intrigue, he was significantly rattled by the recent development.

"Mr Benedict?" the stable-boy, Duncan, tentatively prompted Mark, reminding him of his presence. Even though Mark appeared thoughtfully quiet, the lad knew he was upset by the way the cigar hovered about his lips as his hand shook slightly.

"Duncan?" he answered, thoughtfully narrowing his eyes at Cory's grey horse as it returned his stare unblinkingly.

"My brother thinks he found where they stopped," Duncan replied. "Where their tracks finished."

"How is that possible?" Mark asked, still watching the horse. "It's a well-used track, Duncan."

"Well, Mr Benedict, it's not often a guest falls from their mount." As Mark turned to him curiously, Duncan continued, clearing his throat awkwardly. "And I don't think guests are normally dragged from the trail into woodland."

"Drag marks?" Mark's blue eyes widened.

"Yes," Duncan confirmed. "But only for one person."

This made complete sense. Katie could easily be carried, but Cory's sizeable frame would be better pulled along, than lifted.

Mark was aware that a car hadn't come near the property for several hours. Marco was already on his way to the ranch. Mark was reluctant to involve the police, his gut-feeling was that it would only bring more trouble. Dirty cops have dirty associates, and despite Cory and Mark's efforts over the last couple of days, Katie remained tight-lipped about Dom and Greg. Her firm belief that they were magically unaccountable for anything they did was a bad sign. Dismissing Duncan from the stables to fetch his brother, Mark considered possibilities.

Though unconfirmed, his instincts told him it was Greg, who'd retreated far too easily after being denied a room at the ranch. From their short meeting, Mark knew that Dom was spontaneous, violently impatient, the type to stupidly rush in with guns blazing. Greg was calm, more calculating, he probably spent the last couple of days in careful preparation and planning. Mark deeply regretted not making Greg's acquaintance, he could have used some background insight. Greg was likely to be more capable than his partner. Mark revised his conclusions.

They were dealing with violent, corrupt cops. Cory and Katie had both been abducted. So, if it was meant to be a simple grab and run, they should have discovered Cory on the track, dead. Someone had gone to the extra effort to take him as well, and not from an area with easy car access. Katie might be easily controlled, but Cory was very strong. If they hadn't killed him, they wouldn't be stupid enough to risk carting him back to the city. Plus, it was highly likely they wanted Mark as well. Greg was Dom's partner, and Dom had cause to hate Mark more than Cory. So, they weren't finished. They were still in the vicinity.

Mark would be devastated if anything happened to Katie, but he truly didn't know how he'd cope if Cory was dead. Shaking his head briskly, not bearing to dwell on the thought, Mark took a deep breath, determined to figure out a plan. Productively working along the more positive assumption that they were both still alive, it simply came down to one thing. Where the fuck were they being held?

***********************************************************************

"We only met briefly, but it's nice to see you again too," Greg told Cory politely, laying the knife aside on a spindly metal table next to the bed. Reaching into his trousers, he pulled out a roll of gaffer tape and peeled off a strip. "And I'm looking forward to making Mark's acquaintance. I ran a background check on the both of you. Interesting stuff. Too bad our conversation is going to be a little one-sided from here."

Using the knife to slice the strip of tape free from the roll, he dropped it back to the table and applied the tape to Cory's mouth with both hands. He grinned as he met Cory's furious light eyes, felt Cory's jaw tighten with unspoken anger as he pressed the ends of the tape firmly against his cheeks.

"You see," Greg explained, his dark eyes apologetic, "I don't want your screams to override my instructions. But, hey," he roughly patted Cory's cheek, "if she's an avid pupil, you might not scream so much. Well, not until I'm done teaching her a lesson. After that, if you're still breathing, then we can chat. Maybe we can swap stories."

Straightening up, Greg stretched his thick arms to the roof, then dropped them half way and turned side to side, as though he was warming up for an evening jog. Resting his hands on his hips, he tilted his head back and exhaled a long breath through his nose, contemplating Cory through narrowed eyes.

"You're really not afraid, are you?" he asked, but it was more of a statement as he admired the gold fire in Cory's eyes, blazing up at him. "Well, that's different," he observed mildly, as though he was discussing a change in the weather.

Whistling, he picked up the knife and checked either side of it. Cory naturally tensed as he approached, and on the other side of the curtain, Katie closed her eyes as she heard both the bed jerk and Cory exhale heavily through his nose.