Mesmer, page 20
“NO!” I shouted, but Roman’s hand was around my throat a second later, squeezing until I felt my pulse pounding behind my eyes.
“Shut up. No more talking.” The command slammed in, and I managed a whimper as Alice looked up at me. When Roman released me, I tried to convey with my eyes how sorry I was.
She’s dying because of me, because they want me.
*At least she’ll be free,* Greta answered from the other side of Alice, but she managed to look the tiniest bit sorry as she stared at the woman kneeling on the floor.
I was useless, so fucking useless. All I could do was breathe and sniffle as Roman crouched in front of Alice.
“You’re going to do this quickly, understand? Start as soon as we leave. And if Tomik gets home before you manage it, you’re gonna do whatever you have to in order to kill yourself. You. Will. Kill. Yourself.”
Even though it wasn’t directed at me, I could feel the force behind his command. It was like a shockwave through the air, and I took an instinctive step back from it like it might somehow taint me too just by being near it.
Alice nodded, sobbing harder, and then Mitchell grabbed my arm, hauling me toward the front door. Frantically, I tried to turn to look at Alice, to let her see that I would know. I would always know it wasn’t her choice.
I was crying when they shoved me out the front door and sobbing by the time they threw me into the limo parked on the circular drive. It felt like I’d barely blinked when the car started moving, and I backed away from the twins, moving until my back hit the little wall dividing us from the driver.
Turning, I slammed my hands against it, whining as loud as I could because I still couldn’t fucking talk.
They just laughed.
“That’s not going to do anything, slut. The bitch driving is a collectable, just like you, and she’s just happy she’s not back here.” He leaned forward, smiling. “Now, come here.”
I hated them, hated them so much, and it didn’t make a difference. I crawled forward and stopped exactly where he pointed.
“Go ahead and take off the dress, and the shoes, you won’t need them for now.” It was pointless to try and fight the commands, just exhausting, so I obeyed. Tried to block out how they both reached forward to pinch my breasts, twisting my nipples viciously, but I still yelped and whimpered with each sharp spike of pain.
And I knew this was just the beginning.
“Roman, get the case.” Mitchell was the one directly in front of me, but I turned to watch as Roman unzipped a large suitcase before shoving it to the floor.
“Time to get you all packed up for our trip, slut,” Roman said, tilting his head to the inside where I saw a bunch of leather straps. I shook my head, but he just laughed. “Get in.”
I fought hard, as hard as I could, my muscles shaking so hard my teeth chattered—but I inched closer to it regardless.
*We have to wait for our chance,* Greta said from inside my head once again, but now she was just sitting in the empty black inside my mind, cross-legged, staring. *We’ll get them. I promise.*
It didn’t make me feel any better as Roman shoved me into place, yanking my limbs until I was bent the way he wanted. My chin went into one strap, another around the back of my head. Arms, thighs, waist, ankles—all strapped in until I could barely move at all. Cramped, terrified… and then they closed it.
No, no, no.
It was empty darkness, a space so tight I felt like I might be claustrophobic for the first time in my life. It just didn’t matter. They wanted me to suffer, hated me.
*Because Tomik took you away from them. In Russia.*
I whimpered when the suitcase was lifted, turned, making it almost like I was on hands and knees, except uncomfortably bent.
Then I felt something behind me.
Fingers touching me through some hole in the case, and a sudden wave of desperate need flooded me. Pussy instantly wet, I tilted my hips, sought out those searching fingers until they plunged inside me, and all I could do was groan.
Yes, more.
*No. Fight it. Don’t be their toy!* Greta was snarling, insistent, but I couldn’t focus on her at all. Not when a third finger pushed in, stretched me, and had me suddenly teetering on the edge of an orgasm.
“Don’t come unless we say you can, slut,” one of the twins said from outside the case.
I tried to nod but couldn’t do more than shimmy my head against the straps… which they couldn’t even see. But I could see something. Dim light visible through a hole in the front of the case, and more fingers joined in. Shoved into my mouth, and I sucked frantically, trying to earn the orgasm I could feel brimming in the violent haze in my head.
So close, so close.
“Ready?” A male voice came from above the case, and then all the fingers went away. I whined, whimpered, jerked against the straps trying to reach them again—and then I felt it. A cock teasing at my entrance, sending a delirious rush of bliss through me that almost made me come. But it all stopped short, left me hanging on that terrible edge as another cock moved through the hole below my eyes.
I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and tasted heaven.
The sound that came out of me was some wanton mix of a moan and a wordless plea, because I needed more. I needed more of everything, and I couldn’t even say it. I couldn’t say anything, but I was able to rock the slightest bit back and forth. Begging one, both, to push inside me and end the torment.
“Now,” one of the twins said and then I was filled with synchronized, rough thrusts. I choked on the moan in my throat as the one in my mouth immediately went deep, shutting off my desperate sounds as the other filled my cunt.
Soaking wet, unable to move, unable to speak, all I could do was take it as they worked inside me. Sometimes thrusting at the same time, others alternating to send me bouncing the inch or so I could move inside the case. I tried to keep up, slurping around the dick buried in my throat, gasping wet breaths whenever I could, but totally focused on the ambrosia that trailed across my tongue whenever he pulled farther out.
“Listen to this bitch begging for it. Just a slut like all the rest,” the twin behind me grunted.
“Nothing special at all,” the one in front replied. A quiet corner of my mind felt sad as those words sank in, but the next thrust erased it. Hovering me on that brutal horizon, teetering on the precipice of bliss.
Almost, almost.
*They’re not going to let you,* Greta said, rolling her eyes. *And even if they do, it will just lead to something worse. You’d know that if they weren’t turning you into their Hannah-toy again.*
“I want to hear her scream,” the man with his dick in my mouth growled. “I want to feel it.”
“Yeah,” the other grunted, shoving his cock deep, and then he held still, barely rocking with the movement of the car as all of the pleasure fizzled. Like stars winking out, it all started to fade—leaving me empty, cold, and in the dark.
*I tried to tell you.*
“Listen to me, you little bitch. You’re nothing more than a collectable. You’re as disposable as every other cunt, but we’re going to make sure you suffer before we finally have you off yourself.” It was the one in front of me talking, and he moved his dick over my tongue slowly. Casually fucking my mouth, only teasing at the back of my throat as he continued. “Just like that slut we left as a surprise for Tomik, you’re going to be another lesson that no one walks away from us.”
“And no collectable is above the rules,” the other twin finished, and then he pulled out of me, only to readjust his angle to press against my ass.
I whined, keened, tried to make my throat form words—and then he thrust in.
Brutally hard, vicious, it felt like he tore something, and I screamed until there was a cock buried in my throat and I couldn’t do anything. Nothing but suffer as the fierce pain made my back spasm, my fingers curling into desperate fists.
No reprieve, no more pleasure.
Just violent fucking that bruised my lips, tore me open, and left me even more hollow than before.
*We’ll kill them,* Greta promised, but I didn’t believe her. They’d probably kill me before either of us ever got the chance, and I was starting to think it might not be a bad thing.
Alice’s death was starting to look more and more like mercy, and as another wave of agony shafted through me… for a moment all I felt was jealousy for the sweet release she’d find swinging at the end of a rope.
22
Tomik
It had taken almost an hour to handle the shitstorm the twins had started. I had to find the damn shop, get all of the paperwork signed and scanned back to them, and then I’d had to wait for Helen to review it and confirm she’d get my accounts fixed.
Waste of my fucking time.
As I pulled up in front of the house again, I reminded myself to calm down. I’d have to pick a new place for us to go as soon as the money was moving again, but this time I’d get to choose with Hannah. I could give her some options, take her somewhere she’s always wanted to go.
Maybe I could work on making all of those memories I’d planted in her head real.
The idea almost made me smile as I climbed out of the car and went inside. As soon as I opened the door, I called out to her. “Hey babe, I’m sorry that took so long, it was a fucking mess.”
Dropping the keys on the entry table, I almost tripped over the robe on the floor as I stepped forward. Picking it up, I listened for Hannah and grinned because I knew she was probably somewhere, naked, waiting for me to make good on my promise.
“Where are you, my Hannah?” I called out, chuckling as I stepped into the living room—and froze.
Alice was hanging from the ceiling, a chair from the dining table knocked to the side, and for a long moment I couldn’t do anything but stare. My brain refused to process what I was seeing until a few neurons managed to rub up against each other as I took in the grotesque way her tongue swelled out of her mouth, foam crowding the edges of her lips.
Was this because of me? Had I triggered some hidden compulsion by letting her think, talk, feel? Had she done this because I’d let her come after God-only-knows how long?
Panic surged as the eerie silence of the house filled my ears. Heart racing in my chest, I turned away from her and shouted, “HANNAH!”
No answer.
Fuckfuckfuck.
Running to the bedroom we’d shared, I found it horrifyingly empty, as was the bathroom, the other guestrooms, and no matter how many times I screamed her name—she never answered.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop my hands from shaking as I wandered back into the master bedroom to try and understand what the fuck had happened. Her suitcase was still there, so was all of my shit… but Hannah was gone.
Stumbling into the bathroom, I turned on the light and saw writing on the mirror. Big, red letters, written in lipstick—TWINS TOOK ME. I LOVE YOU.
My entire body rebelled against the words, leaving me wavering on my feet as I caught myself on the counter and stared at her handwriting. It was hers, and I had no idea what risks she’d taken to leave it for me, but I knew two things with absolute certainty.
I would kill them.
I would get her back.
The smell of smoke was the only thing that could have broken my focus on the note she’d left me in that moment, but the thought of the house burning down was motivating as fuck. I ran for the kitchen, finding the oven still on with smoke leaking out of the stove. Turning off all the knobs, I didn’t bother opening the fucking door. There were no flames, and it wasn’t like I could do anything to fix it.
Wandering back into the living room, I looked at Alice again and knew with absolute certainty they’d made her do this. But why? She couldn’t have done anything, couldn’t have reported Hannah’s kidnapping to anyone.
It was just cruel.
Like me… like I used to be? Had I changed that much just by loving Hannah? Did I care about this collectable girl’s useless death?
Too many questions. Too many answers I didn’t have. Turning around, I felt the panic brimming at the edge of my awareness, ready to take over and send me into a tailspin if I let it—and then I saw the video camera.
“Motherfuckers,” I growled, walking over to it. It was still recording, and I knew I’d have to destroy it. I’d have to clean up this whole fucking mess before I could do anything. Pressing the stop button, I rewound the recording to the beginning and hit play.
The chair was already in place, as was the rope with its makeshift noose, just a loop of rope and a few knots—not a real noose like I’d seen in a dozen movies or more. Then again, bright blue rope wasn’t usually used either.
That shit was for tying up collectables, not hanging them from the ceiling.
Alice stepped in front of the camera, and the tears rolling down her cheeks made me feel… something. Not like my concern for Hannah, but frustration at the utter waste. She hadn’t done anything wrong except for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A hiccup preceded a guttural sob and then she took a big step back so she was more in frame.
“I-I have to do this. I have to… to k-kill myself.” Another sob as her muscles shook, and she took another step closer to the chair. “They left with Hannah, s-so I have to.”
Sobbing, Alice climbed onto the chair and delicately slipped the loop over her head, tightening it as she looked at the floor and whined. Then her eyes came back to the camera.
“I had a family before… this.” She sniffled harshly, fingers fisted at her sides as her body wobbled forward but she managed to stay on the chair. “You were nice to me. No one had been nice before, so, thank you. I wish… I hope you find her.”
Then she dropped. Kicked the chair to the side as she struggled, clawed at the rope around her neck, and I couldn’t keep watching. Closing the viewer on the side, I turned away from her and went into the dining room. It was dark outside now, the city covered in lights, the opera house glowing, but I didn’t care about any of that shit.
I just wanted Hannah back.
It felt like my chest might be caving in, my breath wheezing as I dropped into a chair and experienced what I could only describe as a panic attack. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. My head was spinning with the hundred different places they could take her. A thousand different locations around the world.
Anywhere.
It was too much to process, too much to handle, and I definitely wasn’t handling it at all.
Desperate for air, I forced a deep breath, and it came out on a scream. Raw, it made my throat ache from the force of it, and when it ended, I realized I was crying. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried, some time in high school maybe. But it had never felt like this.
Nothing had ever felt like this.
Hannah was in the hands of the two men I hated most in the world—the two men who had done some of the most depraved shit I’d ever seen. Things that even my mesmer side had paused at for a second before it got in the spirit of it.
But they wouldn’t kill her—not yet.
If they’d wanted her dead, she would be. She’d be hanging right next to Alice. No, what they wanted to do to her would be so much worse, and I had no fucking idea where they’d taken her.
* * *
I was emailing the accounting people again, trying to find out when I’d have access to my money so I could fucking leave, when an email came in.
The subject just said ‘Hannah’.
It turned my stomach to open it, but I did, not sure what I was expecting, but the video attachment was answer enough. The twins had Hannah, and they wanted to gloat.
I debated playing it, but my fingers decided for me when they clicked it. One of the twins was holding the camera, the other had a suitcase on one of the plush seats of a private jet… and it looked like he was fucking it.
“Say hi to Tomik, Roman.”
Roman flipped his middle finger at the camera then pulled out of the suitcase. My stomach clenched. The camera turned around to show Mitchell’s face as he rotated to keep Roman in the shot too.
“I’m not as good as you at this photography shit, but I think I can do a decent job with this little camera,” Mitchell said through a chuckle. They’d clearly been drinking, but I did my best to ignore them and look around the cabin for any hint of where they were going.
“You probably already got the little present we left behind for you. We’ve been in the air about thirty minutes now, but we wanted to show you the little souvenir we got for ourselves when we visited the land down under.” Roman popped his boxers back into place and flipped the suitcase to lay it flat. With a flourish, he unzipped it, and Mitchell brought the camera closer to show Hannah strapped into the fucked-up suitcase.
She looked dazed, glassy-eyed, and all I could hope was that they’d zombied her out so that she wasn’t really aware.
“Want to get out of that suitcase, slut?” Roman asked, leaning over her, and she whined when he reached in to do something I couldn’t see. My fists were clenched so tight I could feel my joints aching already, but that didn’t matter as Roman unstrapped her and hauled her out of the suitcase.
She collapsed to the floor the second he let go, barely catching herself with her hands. A quiet whine escaped her as she stared at the floor, all of her pretty blonde hair in her face until Roman ripped her head back with a fistful of it.
“Say hello to Tomik, bitch,” Mitchell said from behind the camera, and Hannah slowly focused on the lens. I hated myself, but it made me hard to see her like that. She was a mess, her lips red from use, drool and tears making her skin shine.
“Hello, Tomik,” she whispered, flinching when Roman shoved her head forward.
“Your turn, Mitchell. Give me the camera.” The video shook and wobbled until they handed it off, and then the bastard picked her up off the floor, holding her up with an arm around her waist and a hand around her neck.
