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Lila honestly couldn’t remember. Back then she had just been terrified of him, of what her parents wanted her to do with him, of what he wanted to do to her. Nothing else had registered.
“I don’t want to touch her,” the man whined again. “Can’t they do it?” He nodded at two other men, big burly men dressed all in black who occupied seats in the row behind where the woman was sitting.
“They’re bodyguards nor nursemaids. Stop being such a baby. Cut the cuffs off her and have her take her own clothes off. She can put them in one of the garbage bags,” the woman told him.
“We don’t have anything else to dress her in.”
“Who cares?” Apparently losing interest in the whole thing, the woman lifted her iPad and turned her attention to it.
Old memories had her drawing away as the man leaned over her, his fingers lingering on her skin as he cut the zip ties binding her wrists together. The plastic had cut into her skin, and her wrists were smeared with blood.
The sight of it brought back more horrific memories.
Memories of blood smeared between her legs as this man climbed off her assaulted her mind, adding to the raging pain in her head.
It might have been fourteen years ago, but from the strength of her fears and emotions it felt like only yesterday.
Worse than this man raping her had been knowing that he was in her life because her parents had decided to marry her off to him. She’d been only sixteen, he’d been in his fifties. The absurdity of that hadn’t occurred to them because they were concerned only with perceptions, appearances, and what the wealthy man could do for them. They hadn’t cared about her at all, she wasn’t even a consideration.
She’d never been a consideration, just a prop.
A prop to be used to further her parents’ goals.
A prop for this man and his sick fantasies of having a young wife. A teenage wife.
His hand curled around her elbow, pulling her up and out of her seat. The fact that his touch was gentle, almost sensual in the way his thumb brushed across her skin, it felt like a lover’s touch, and that churned her stomach up all over again.
Freaking out, Lila slapped at his hands and yanked herself away. Tripping over her feet, she went down on her knees in front of the woman.
Lifting her gaze, the woman fixed her in a glare, then lifted her foot, touched the heel to Lila’s shoulder and shoved, sending her sprawling backward.
“Get up,” the man ordered, standing above her, holding out a trash bag. “Strip and put your clothes in here.”
The very last thing Lila wanted to do was make herself more vulnerable by removing her clothes, but what choice did she have? They were on a plane, going who knows where. Christian, if he was still alive, and his team would be looking for her but who knew how long it would take them to find her. There was zero chance of escape right now, zero chance anyone was coming riding in to her rescue.
If she wanted to live, to protect her baby, then for now she had to do as she was told.
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she removed her sweater, sneakers, jeans, and socks, dropping everything into the bag, leaving her in just her bra and panties.
Lila shivered when the man’s eyes roamed over her near-naked body, and it had nothing to do with being cold.
She was trapped with the man who had stolen something from her she could never get back when he had raped her, and a woman with plans to take over the world and a vendetta against the man Lila loved. She was pretty sure it wasn’t possible for things to get any worse than this.
Chapter Six
November 16th
4:37 A.M.
Guilt and terror dug their claws into Surf’s skin.
With each second that ticked by his anxiety racked up several degrees.
How much longer could he go on before he completely lost it and fell apart?
No.
He couldn’t afford to fall apart.
