I close my eyes as he gets to my thighs.
“Open up,” he orders me.
I very reluctantly part my legs, and he runs the soapy sponge over my lower stomach, thankfully not touching me beyond that.
“All done,” Maxim announces.
He grabs for the towel he had sitting nearby, wrapping me up in it.
Before he leaves, he tells me, “Get dressed and behave.” As if an afterthought, his parting words are, “We’ll have to take care of that hair. I need you to be nice and smooth for our wedding night.”
I’m shivering in absolute fear. I can’t marry this psychopath.
What did he mean about “smooth”? Is he going to shave me? My pussy? Oh God—a blade against my skin... I have a fresh brand, for fuck’s sake! Surely, no one will touch that?
I can’t do this. I need my guys—I need to go home. Why haven’t they found me yet? I know they must be looking. They're at the ZYGOS compound; they must be turning over every rock they can to find me.
Being in this basement is fucking with me mentally worse than I thought it would. I keep getting flashbacks to my time with Synn's father. This is my PTSD, I know that. It's just so real. It feels like I’m right back there, at his father’s mercy.
The door opens above me, and I quiver where I sit huddled up on the mattress, knees drawn to my chest. Maxim walks into my line of vision, smiling.
“How about a kiss, Little Bird? You need to greet your husband properly,” he demands.
My eyes well with tears. I can’t kiss this guy, but what choice do I really have?
I stand slowly, stretching out my arm to him. He takes my hand, drawing me to stand right in front of him. Heart hammering, I lean in to place a tiny peck on his lips.
Maxim frowns. “That is not a proper kiss, wife. Do you want to be punished again?”
I swallow bile, touching his mouth with mine again. This time, he grabs the back of my head, holding me to him. His tongue pries open my lips, sweeping inside my mouth. I just stand there still, letting him plunder me.
Maxim finally pulls back with a nod. “Time for you to get ready for our wedding. I have a priest on the way as we speak. There are two women I trust waiting to help you. Keep this in mind, though, wife. The priest and the women work for me. They will not help you. Understand?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, my traitorous eyes filling up again. I turn my head away, so he doesn’t see it.
Maxim pats me on the head like a dog, then leaves.
I’m in shock, I think. Everything slows way down. My heartbeat is muffled in my ears. I just stand there, waiting.
Is this really happening?
Purge
Where the hell is she? I’m attempting to narrow the vast area Iskra could be in. All I’m managing to do is nothing—zero. I’m no fucking help with this.
I wheel my office chair next to Thor. Thankfully, Cynthia left a while ago.
“What time is it, man?” I ask him, rubbing my eyes in exhaustion.
“It’s late. Close to midnight.” Thor says, never taking his eyes from his screen.
“Any luck?” I ask, fingers crossed.
“Well... maybe. There are no properties on any map for this area. No property deeds I can find, either. But see this areahere?” Thor zooms in the screen, pointing. “I’m picking up heat signatures. I don’t know exactly how many, or who it even is. It could be pot growers, for all I know. I already alerted Jax about it a couple of minutes ago. I know he’s still busy getting the teams sorted.”
I exhale loudly. “Well, I’m praying it’s her. A heat signature means she’s alive.”
Before I can continue, Jax comes in the room. “Alright, I’ve got this figured out. I got your message, Thor. We will be using the info to track Phoenyxx.” Jax looks at me. “Assemble the others, please. I've got everything arranged. We'll be heading out at dusk tomorrow.”
