I kept my head down, I walked fast, and I dressed sensibly. No one had given a shit about him, no one except Rafiq. She gave an unaffected shrug and her gaze moved away from him. Tears flooded my eyes and a whimper escaped my chest. She moved quickly, a flutter of long dark hair and bathrobe flying toward the bedroom door. As I lay there dry heaving, my captors yelled amongst them, meaningless voices, in and out, broken and jarring.
Summoning every ounce of strength and resolve I attempted to lift myself. She was walking away from the bus-stop, but he was following in his car. Pure lust rolled through him like a heavy ache bringing with it a strong desire to possess her, to have power over her tears. He had orders, his own agendas. He too, had waited a long time to achieve his revenge and he refused to leave anything to chance. Caleb tried to keep the look of concern on his face when all he really wanted was to smile. He continued to stare at this girl, his potential slave, wondering how she would appeal to the target in mind.
Again, a nagging sense of familiarity. Finally, the architect of his suffering has emerged with a new identity, but not a new nature. He once abhorred this conditioned response, but he was long over self-loathing. What an interesting turn of events. Even from a distance he could see how dark, how mysterious and sad they were. Possibly it was her eyes.
Although she is frightened by the strong, sadistic, and arrogant man who holds her prisoner, what keeps Olivia awake in the dark is her unwelcome attraction to him. Or did she hate home so much? Fearing the worst, I attempted to remove the blindfold by moving my head. My first instinct was to scream. I willed everything to fight all of the constraints: I twitched. Her performance as the cute, shy girl was intoxicating. Could she feel his eyes on her? She was walking very fast, backpack in front of her, like a shield. I could see that the glass was on tracks, so I knew it had to slide open.
Rafiq had contacted an ally who would provide safe haven in Madera during the first six weeks Caleb would need to help his captive acclimate. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, when he heard the cough and squealing gears of the school bus approaching from down the street. At the word no, at the word her. Some were the fourth or fifth wives of sheikhs and bankers sent by their husbands to learn to satisfy their distinct appetites. And what was a submissive if not adaptable —if not a survivor? Dizzy and with practically no warning, I vomited. Startled, I attempted to move all at once, only to find my movements sluggish and ineffectual.
Incensed, the same man came at me again and this time struck me very hard across my left cheek. People would be coming soon, but not yet. It was easier for poor people to disappear, even in America. If not her, then someone else, either way his plight would be the same. Pure lust rolled through him like a heavy ache bringing with it a strong desire to possess her, to have power over her tears.
I took a mental assessment of my person. Captive In The Dark 2011 About book: Wow! People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. She tugged her arm loose from his grasp, but kept her eyes trained on the ground. Though for a moment, it felt like anything but. Across the street the girl fidgeted with her headphones.
As a slave trainer, he had trained at least a score of girls. I do not hand out 5 star reads often. Girls from Europe were highly sought after, though American girls were the crown jewels of the pleasure trade. As she stood there, looking blissfully unaware that her coy, submissive behavior was sealing her fate, Caleb wanted to kiss her. His fingers speared through my hair to force my head back at an odd angle. Breasts that would fill his palms quite nicely. Too weak to resist, I lay my head next to my vomit and passed out again.
Her lips moved quickly, silently, spilling words not meant for him to hear. He put an end to his line of thinking before his body rendered a response. The ends curled over the mound of her breasts. For a moment, it was comical. Her eyes stared dispassionately at the ground. Her entire body was tense beneath him; her muscles fought, unwilling to give up, but that burst of energy had cost her. That meant they were real right? People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night.
It seemed unjust that just last week the girl had waited for nearly an hour for the bus to arrive, but this week the driver had not waited at all. It was sure to be littered with beauties from the typical male-run countries, where acquiring such women was limited only by supply and demand. Twenty minutes later the girl started to cry, right there on the sidewalk, right in front of him. Fearing the worst, I attempted to remove the blindfold by moving my head. For the moment, she seemed too terrified to notice anything but the pavement in front of her downcast eyes.