Taken by Lies Page 14
Kai’s different; she wears the battle she’s endured on every piece of her flesh. And all the scars do is make me wonder what she sounds like when she screams with tears running down her cheeks. Because I’m a sick, fucking monster.
I don’t know how she ended up on the floor. I reached out wanting to touch her bruise and wanting to see if the cold still pulses through her veins. And then she was on the floor.
I don’t know how…
Did exhaustion finally catch up with her?
Lack of food?
Or was it panic I saw in her eyes at the thought of me caressing her?
“Kai,” I say louder, keeping my hands by my side instead of touching her, in case my almost brush against her was what caused the panic attack.
She doesn’t stir.
Shit.
“Kai,” I scream.
Westcott runs into the room, “Enzo? What happened? I heard a scream.” His face is full of shock as he stares down at Kai’s lifeless body.
“She just collapsed,” I answer.
“I’ll call 911,” Westcott says.
“No,” I hiss.
Westcott frowns, and I know he will disobey me if I don’t do something soon. He’s worked for my family for a long time. He’s one of my most loyal employees, but he doesn’t put up with my shit. He doesn’t have to worry about me firing him; I won’t. And even if I did, I pay him well enough that he could retire now even though he’s only fifty.
Westcott pulls out his phone, threatening me. He’s the only person in the world allowed to bully me and not get reprimanded or killed for his trouble. In some ways, he was the father I always wanted but never had.
What do I do?
“Kai, wake up!” I scream as I roll her over onto her back.
Ice. Her body shoots off frosty sparks through my warm body. She’s as bone-chilling as I remember, possibly colder. I shudder for a second as her cool combines with my fire causing the hair on my arm to stand as goosebumps form.
I survey her, looking for any sign of the injury that would have caused her to collapse and not wake up. But other than the bruise that was already covering her eye, I don’t see any visible head injury.
And then I watch her chest rising and falling. She must have knocked herself unconscious when she fell. I know I shouldn’t move her, but I can’t keep her lying on the bare floor. She needs a bed; she needs sleep and food. She needs medical support and therapists to heal, but I’m not sure I’m willing to let anyone else see or touch her even to help her. She’s mine.
Gently, I cradle her head and scoop up her legs. Having her in my arms does something primal to my body. It arouses an urge I haven’t felt since the last time I kissed her. I feel alive even though her skin prickles mine—a steady, calmness pulses from her thin veins to my thicker cords. I feel more settled and more urgent at the same time. An awakening builds inside as my stomach clenches at what I let happen to this beautiful woman in my arms; she still seems like a girl to me in so many ways.
“What are you doing to me, Kai?” I whisper into her ear.
Her breathing is still slow and constant in my arms.
“Sir?” Westcott asks with concern in his eyes.
“She’s breathing. I think she just collapsed from exhaustion. Is the master bedroom ready?”
He nods.
“I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No,” my voice cuts through the room. I won’t have anyone take her away from me. Not now.
I rush past him to the bedroom I usually occupy when I’m staying here. This is my favorite house out of all the ones I own. If I can’t be on the sea, then I’ll take this beach house as a close second. But I just got back last night and slept at the club before coming here. None of my stuff is here or unpacked.
Kai can have the master; I’ll take one of the spares, I decide as I climb the stairs to the second floor. She doesn’t stir the entire time I hold her.
I kick open the door to the spacious master bedroom. An oversized white canopy bed sits against the far wall with white linen sheets giving off a beach vibe as it gets the perfect view of the ocean out the floor to ceiling windows—one of the windows pushes out as a concealed door leading out to the private balcony. There isn’t much else in this bedroom. I like to keep everything simple and elegant. Only a door impedes the bare walls and leads to the deluxe bathroom suite where the walk-in closet is.
This room will serve as the perfect gilded cage for Kai. I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do with her yet. Killing her would be the easiest, but as I’ve already determined from our last encounter, I can’t kill this girl. Locking her away is the next best thing to ensure I keep my power. This room isn’t exactly a prison, but to her, it will feel like one.
I carefully lay her down on top of the covers on the bed. A quiet moan escapes her lips, but otherwise, she doesn’t stir.
I walk quickly to my closet that is always filled with the basics for when I stay here and pull out one of my shirts for her to sleep in before I return to her side.
She’s still breathing, still knocked out when I return.
So I begin the slow, torturous work of removing her sweater and jeans. Her feet are already bare, filthy from spending days walking barefoot, swollen, and covered in deep lesions. The only parts of her body I can see are her hands, feet, and face—and if they are any indication of what lies beneath her clothes, I’m not sure I can bear it.
I pull her sweater up her smooth stomach attentively as I’m not sure what I will reveal.
I’m not a squeamish man, but when I see the cuts, bruises, and scars marking her skin, I want to hurl. I force myself to stay put and continue removing the sweater from her frozen, defeated body. I finally get the sweater over her head, and I lose my mind.
What the fuck did Jarod do to you?
What did I do?
I thought death was the worst thing that could have happened to Kai, my pretty girl, but I was wrong. This—this is the worst thing anyone could ever experience.
Every inch of her skin is covered in her anguish and pain.
Scars.
Bruises.
Cuts.
All of her is broken.
Misaligned.
Torn.
Injured.
Jarod didn’t spare one inch of her precious body. Every part is marked.
He fucking claimed her. He made her his. He ruined every part of her body, and there is no telling what he messed up inside her, both internally and in her mind. I don’t know how anyone recovers from this.
I understand now why Kai thinks she was broken. She is broken, but somehow, an essential part of her spirit remains. Despite what her body has gone through, the fight persisted. She wouldn’t have come to find me if she didn’t want to battle—to take back her life.
I have no doubt when her body is strong enough; she will once again fight for her freedom. She might even win.
I can’t let that happen. We are both two parts to a whole. We both can’t survive in this world. If she escapes, I’ll cease to exist. The only way we can both live is if the world thinks she’s dead—at least my world does.
I try to purge the fuming rage that has built up inside me and is now exploding out of me with passion from my body. I want to call on all of my men to hunt the bastard down who did this and make him wish he only had to experience the pain Kai did after what I plan on doing to him.
But if I send my men to find them, it would be admitting Kai is alive.
So I push the feeling down, something I’m an expert in.
I take the T-shirt in my hand and pull it down covering her stomach and the tops of her thighs. Only then do I undo the jeans and gently pull them off her body. I want so badly to lift the T-shirt up and catch a glimpse of her gorgeous cunt I’ve dreamed about for so long. But I’m not a sick fuck who dreams of corpses, which is basically what she is in this state. And if I see that her pussy is as broken as the rest of her body, I’ll throw all my rational t
houghts out the window, and I’ll do something that will get me killed in the end.
So I quell my dark desires, locking them deep inside the cage where I keep everything else.
I tuck Kai under the covers as her breath continues to rise and fall.
What am I going to do with you?
I reach into my back pocket, and I call Westcott.
“Sir?”
“Call a private doctor to the house for Kai. The best, one who specializes in her condition.”
“Absolutely, sir. I’ll have a doctor here right away.”
I end the call. Kai won’t want a doctor to see her. She won’t want the help, but she doesn’t always get a choice in her life. She’ll die if not.
I don’t know what to do, but stand over her and ensure she continues breathing until the doctor arrives.
“Enzo?” her voice croaks.
“Yes, I’m here,” I moan back in agony at seeing her in pain.
Her eyes don’t open, and I’m not even sure she’s conscious.
“I’m so cold,” she whispers.
I nod. I love her arctic skin against mine. I love how it centers me and makes me crave her.
“Hold me, Enzo. Make me warm.”
Fuck.
I stare at her a minute, not sure she wants me to touch her. But then she shivers despite being under the pile of blankets.
I kick off my shoes, remove my suit jacket, and loosen my tie before climbing into bed next to her. I don’t dare take off any more clothes. My self-control is already hanging on a thread as it is. I can’t feel her skin to skin.
But as I wrap my hot skin against her cool ice, I feel every part of her connect with me.
Body.
Heart.
Soul.
What are you doing to me, pretty girl? And why do you have this hold over me?
I pull her tighter to my body, our skin regulating each other’s temperature and bodies as we doze while we wait for the doctor to arrive. My cock hardens, pressing against her ass.
Not going to happen, I try to convince my cock, but to no avail.
And I know that as I hold her, I can never touch her again. I’m the devil, but I’m done being a monster to her. I will stay far away. She will be safe as long as she never leaves these four walls. And I will continue to be the monster with power over the world, and control everything, except her.
17
Kai
The chill returns to my body. My eyes fly open.
Where am I?
What happened?
I’m in the most magnificent room I’ve ever seen in either real life or a magazine.
The bed I’m lying on is enormous. Much bigger than a traditional king. It’s a white canopy bed with white linen sheets softer than a pile of feathers. Floor to ceiling windows line the wall, giving me a view of a balcony most people would pay a fortune to sit on, because it has the most unobscured, private view of turquoise blue water I’ve ever seen. You can’t even see any sailboats on the horizon, that’s how reclusive it feels. Like you are on your own tranquil piece of paradise.
But I want to sprint over to the curtains and pull them shut, blocking out the fucking sun and the divine view that makes my stomach want to hurl.
I chuckle to myself when I notice the see-through curtains. There is nothing in this room that will block out the sun’s rays.
I stare down at the stark white sheets and comforter covering my body. They may be made of the softest fabrics known to earth, but they irritate my skin—making me feel like I need to scratch my reddened flesh like I have the chicken pox.
I can’t decide if I’d rather bury myself under the covers to block out the sun or throw the scratchy covers from my body.
I try to remember where I am and how I got here.
Enzo.
I remember the club. I remember losing the game. I remember collapsing.
Shit.
I collapsed. Passed out. That’s the one thing I never wanted to let happen. Because when I’m unconscious, I can’t control what happens to me. I can’t fight. I can’t prevent the torture.
My body stills. But I don’t feel the usual pain that comes after being abused. I don’t think I was touched…
But I remember being warm.
How is that possible? I never feel warm. Even with the light shining in and the mountain of covers on top of me, I’m not warm.
Now, I’m cold. It must have been a dream of feeling snug.
I actually feel colder than usual.
That’s when I take in more of my body and feel the stick of the needle in my hand, pouring the biting liquid into my body.
My eyes widen, and my body trembles. I want it out. Now.
I look around the room, searching for someone to explain what the fuck happened and why I have an IV. I don’t need an IV. I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need anyone.
“It’s good to see you awake, Miss Miller,” a man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the bed says.
I shake at the unexpected sound.
“I didn’t mean to startle you; I’m Dr. Gould.”
Fuck.
I recoil further up on the bed, inching to the farthest corner away from this stranger, covering myself with the evil covers.
The doctor’s smile drops when he sees my reaction.
“Mr. Black brought me here to help you, Miss Miller. I won’t hurt you. You can trust me.”
Liar.
I can’t trust anyone.
The doctor purses his lips when he sees my reaction.
“You’ve been passed out for three days. I inserted an IV to give you proper nutrition. And I only did the bare minimum of examination to ensure you didn’t need any further treatment while you were unconscious. I didn’t think you would appreciate anything more while you were out.”
He’s right; no one should touch me while I’m passed out.
“Where am I?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I want confirmation.
He eyes me carefully, trying to study my reaction. “Mr. Black’s beach residence.”
He doesn’t say more, but I know I’m in Enzo’s room. I can smell and feel him everywhere. His musky cologne and ocean salt scent covers the room.
Why the fuck does Enzo live in a box of light?
He should be living in a dark cave in a hillside—not this.
I need the dark, not the light.
The doctor rounds the bed to the side I’m hiding under. I want to move to the other side, but he moves faster than I can crawl away.
His sad eyes stare down at me as he stands tall overhead.
“Miss Miller, can you tell me what you remember?”
I frown and huff steam from my nose.
He nods.
“Can you nod and tell me you remember, though? I’m worried you might have brain damage.”
I nod. I remember.
“That’s good. I know you’ve been through a lot these last few years. I need to give you a more thorough exam. I believe you have several broken bones and some have started healing while not aligned. After I examine you, we can talk about getting some x-rays and prioritize your injuries. I promise you will recover from this. I’ve helped countless women heal from similar situations. You will get through this.”
I raise my eyebrows as a chill runs through me. Enzo didn’t just get any doctor to look after me; he hired one who knows exactly how to treat women like me.
I can see in the doctor’s eyes he wants to touch me, comfort me in some way. He tells me with his body first, then his words.
“Let’s start with something simple. I’m just going to check your pulse. Is that okay?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m frozen.
He hesitantly reaches his hand out, and his fingers press against the inside of my wrist.
I jump.
I can’t fucking stand the touch. No matter how comforting he intended it. It feels like he’s trying to stab my body. To ruin and torture me.
“Miss Miller, I’m sorry. Come back to—”
I can’t hear the doctor’s words. I can’t be here a second longer.
I spring from the bed, feeling the tug of the IV trying to keep me in.
Fuck that.
The pain of the needle barely registers as it pulls from my hand. But I feel free as I leave the bed. The covers no longer trapping me, and my body safe from being touched.
I don’t know where I’m going. Enzo started the tour of the house yesterday, but he never finished it. Instead, I collapsed like a pussy. Enzo will think he can take whatever he wants from me—that I won’t fight back. I won’t be surprised if he comes to my room tonight and takes whatever he wants from me.
I can’t think about that. I’ll figure out how to protect myself soon enough.
I run to the stairs.
Fucking stairs.
I’m so tired, but the adrenaline from needing to get away from the doctor is stronger than the weakness and dizziness I feel.
Down the stairs I go, half running, half falling.
When I stumble down the main floor, I keep moving my legs, still not sure where I’m headed or why. My fight or flight has kicked in, and I can’t stop until someone slows me down.
I keep going, sweat soaking my body, chills shooting up and down my spine, panic weighing down my legs.
Keep running, flee, escape.
Those thoughts play on repeat through my head.
I can’t stop.
I can’t get a reprieve from the exhaustion I’m feeling. Nothing will stop me.
“Stop,” a deep, authoritative voice echoes in the walls.
What? Stop? I can’t.
“Stop.”
I feel my legs slowing, although I don’t understand why.
“Stop, Kai.”
My legs come to a halt as if I hit a brick wall.
I didn’t, but I came close.
Enzo is standing less than a foot in front of me.
I pant heavily, knowing I can’t catch my breath. I’ve pushed my body too hard. I’m about to faint again.
“Breathe,” comes the same steady voice. I hang on to that voice, letting it fill my lungs as if it were oxygen.