forcing her to stand with her legs spread wide.
All of the circle around her held whips or floggers with long leather straps. Some of those straps glimmered with the silver of steel.
Rae’s face was run with black from mascara…her tears had turned her into a ghastly clown. The marks of whips crisscrossed her breasts and back, angry red welts wrapped around her like red rope.
Mark pushed the people away from her and screamed, “Leave her alone!”
Nobody stopped him as he stepped into the center of the circle, reached up and unhooked the leather bracelets on Rae’s wrists from the chains and then did the same with her feet. As he did, her blood smeared across his hands; her back and legs were a mess of bleeding cuts.
“Mark, what are you doing? No,” Rae complained blurrily. She almost seemed drunk. Mark wondered if they’d drugged her before doing this. Fuckers!
Hands grabbed at his shoulders then, as well as at Rae’s. But Mark’s fists fended them off. He felt someone’s nose crush in a warm rush beneath his fingers, and a second later he punched a woman in the gut who was still holding a whip. She doubled over before the next guy grabbed at Mark and tried to stop them from leaving.
“Enough,” he yelled. “You’ve hurt her enough. I’m taking her home.”
He held her around the waist and began to push their way from the room. “Wait a minute,” Rae begged, pounding on his back. “I want my clothes!”
He stopped and she bent to pick them up. As she did, Mark realized the room had gone silent, and Rae’s torturers all stood still, in a single file along one wall. None resisted him. The one who had refused him entrance to The Red when he’d come with Selena stood in the center. “I told you this was for her alone,” he said quietly.
“Not anymore,” Mark said and pulled her from the room. He wouldn’t let her stop until they were back in the Blue Room, with the familiar sounds of ’80s goth rock pounding from across the stage. Then he let Rae pull her skirt up over her hips and half shrug on her corset (he clasped some of the hooks) before he dragged her from the club.
Rae didn’t speak on the way home. Mark knew better than to press her, but after a few miles, he couldn’t stop himself. Her clothes were ripped and bloody. He could see the pale skin of her ribs through the side of the corset that exposed the flesh just beneath her shoulder. She looked like someone who’d been attacked by a man with knives.
“Why did you let them do that?” he asked. “Did they drug you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know why, or you don’t know if you were drugged?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Mark felt his anger surge. “I thought our deal was full disclosure,” he said. “If we do this, there are no secrets—isn’t that what you said?”
Rae turned her head to stare out the window. In the glass, she no longer saw the night neon of the city passing by the car. She could see the shadows of The Red moving. Nude forms shifting this way and the other. Hands with long fingernails reaching out.
The crack of the whip…
Already, she yearned to go back.
Chapter Fourteen
Rabbit in a Cage
Travis had a feeling that something was wrong. Deadly wrong. He remembered tending bar. And then there had been someone coming in and asking him to go to a club…a place where he’d be comfortable…
And the next thing he knew he was waking up in a dark, cold place. His back was stiff. He couldn’t feel his legs.
And then he heard the voice speaking somewhere nearby.
“Now,” the voice said. “Make him wake up.”
The pain was almost instant. It cut across his belly like a steel ruler slapped down hard. He felt cold and then fire in the same breath. Travis opened his eyes.
Wide.
“What the fuck?” he cried out, and around him he heard a dozen people begin to laugh.
“What the…” he echoed, but nobody responded.
The pain came again.
Travis saw
All of the circle around her held whips or floggers with long leather straps. Some of those straps glimmered with the silver of steel.
Rae’s face was run with black from mascara…her tears had turned her into a ghastly clown. The marks of whips crisscrossed her breasts and back, angry red welts wrapped around her like red rope.
Mark pushed the people away from her and screamed, “Leave her alone!”
Nobody stopped him as he stepped into the center of the circle, reached up and unhooked the leather bracelets on Rae’s wrists from the chains and then did the same with her feet. As he did, her blood smeared across his hands; her back and legs were a mess of bleeding cuts.
“Mark, what are you doing? No,” Rae complained blurrily. She almost seemed drunk. Mark wondered if they’d drugged her before doing this. Fuckers!
Hands grabbed at his shoulders then, as well as at Rae’s. But Mark’s fists fended them off. He felt someone’s nose crush in a warm rush beneath his fingers, and a second later he punched a woman in the gut who was still holding a whip. She doubled over before the next guy grabbed at Mark and tried to stop them from leaving.
“Enough,” he yelled. “You’ve hurt her enough. I’m taking her home.”
He held her around the waist and began to push their way from the room. “Wait a minute,” Rae begged, pounding on his back. “I want my clothes!”
He stopped and she bent to pick them up. As she did, Mark realized the room had gone silent, and Rae’s torturers all stood still, in a single file along one wall. None resisted him. The one who had refused him entrance to The Red when he’d come with Selena stood in the center. “I told you this was for her alone,” he said quietly.
“Not anymore,” Mark said and pulled her from the room. He wouldn’t let her stop until they were back in the Blue Room, with the familiar sounds of ’80s goth rock pounding from across the stage. Then he let Rae pull her skirt up over her hips and half shrug on her corset (he clasped some of the hooks) before he dragged her from the club.
Rae didn’t speak on the way home. Mark knew better than to press her, but after a few miles, he couldn’t stop himself. Her clothes were ripped and bloody. He could see the pale skin of her ribs through the side of the corset that exposed the flesh just beneath her shoulder. She looked like someone who’d been attacked by a man with knives.
“Why did you let them do that?” he asked. “Did they drug you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know why, or you don’t know if you were drugged?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Mark felt his anger surge. “I thought our deal was full disclosure,” he said. “If we do this, there are no secrets—isn’t that what you said?”
Rae turned her head to stare out the window. In the glass, she no longer saw the night neon of the city passing by the car. She could see the shadows of The Red moving. Nude forms shifting this way and the other. Hands with long fingernails reaching out.
The crack of the whip…
Already, she yearned to go back.
Chapter Fourteen
Rabbit in a Cage
Travis had a feeling that something was wrong. Deadly wrong. He remembered tending bar. And then there had been someone coming in and asking him to go to a club…a place where he’d be comfortable…
And the next thing he knew he was waking up in a dark, cold place. His back was stiff. He couldn’t feel his legs.
And then he heard the voice speaking somewhere nearby.
“Now,” the voice said. “Make him wake up.”
The pain was almost instant. It cut across his belly like a steel ruler slapped down hard. He felt cold and then fire in the same breath. Travis opened his eyes.
Wide.
“What the fuck?” he cried out, and around him he heard a dozen people begin to laugh.
“What the…” he echoed, but nobody responded.
The pain came again.
Travis saw
Similar Books
