The Club Page 6

  I lower the instrument like I’m going to shock her and she screams out “Nooooooo, I will tell you!” before I touch her skin. I can’t really blame her; electricity fucking hurts.

  “You better tell me, girl, because I’m just getting started and things can get a whole lot more painful than this!”

  “We weren’t coming back. We were both going to run away.”

  I position myself between her legs. I become distracted with looking at her naked body, laid out spread eagle and beginning to bruise with my marks. Seeing her body turn color with the pain I’ve inflicted makes my cock thicken with need. What is surprising me, though, is the fact that the pain seems to be turning her on as well.

  “Roxanne, do you get excited when I mix pain with your pleasure? Don’t lie to me, Roxanne. I can tell that you like it. You’re soaked.”

  “I don’t know,” she weakly moans as her head falls to the side. “I don’t understand.”

  I slyly smile and say, “But I do and that’s all that matters.”

  I pinch the inside of her leg and twist. She will be bruised and sore tomorrow. She will be bruised and I’ve scared the shit out of her but she won’t be traumatized. Roxanne is more of a masochist than she realizes. She is a match for me in so many ways.

  I reach over and grab a blue light that is used for pleasure. It produces waves of vibration without the electrical shock she fears. I take my time toying with her and her screams of pain have now become cries of pleasure.

  She is lying with her head to the side. She is weak from the interrogation and moaning in ecstasy as I toy with the light.

  “Are you still leaving me?” I ask as I taunt her, threatening to shock her again.

  “Noooooooo!” she screams out.

  “Are you sure?” I slyly eye her again. I’m purposely mocking her, “I don’t know if I believe you, my little mentirosa, my little liar.”

  I coldly look at her and ask, “Are. You. Still. Going. To. Leave. Me?”

  She weakly moans, “No,” and she is correct. She won’t be going anywhere. My abandonment issues will make certain she stays here with me. I will stop at nothing to keep my wife at my disposal and I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Hell, the whole world already knows I’m crazy. When it comes to my wife, my property, crazy doesn’t even begin to describe my personality.

  I explore between her legs, “You are soaking wet, girl.”

  “I don’t understand,” she moans.

  “But I do!” I repeat. It seems my little captive is a match for my level of depravity. The girl gets off on the shit I subject her to. She is just as kinky as I am. Every day she confirms what I already know to be true. She is cut out for my lifestyle.

  “You better be glad that you did not run away from me. Will you ever try to betray me again?”

  “No,” she moans.

  “Liar! You fucking, sneaky ass liar! You can’t stay out of trouble but I can assure you, young lady, I will be keeping you under a firm hand and a watchful eye! You are very bad and I kept you from getting killed. Tell me ‘thank you’ for protecting you from getting killed.”

  She moans, “Thank you,” as I continue to talk to her, talking… talking… talking…

  “No, Ricardo, please don’t send me away.”

  “You’re looking at this the wrong way, little brother. I’m saving your life, keeping the cartel from killing you.”

  “You can protect me here.” I’m sobbing as my little body shakes in terror of the unknown. I don’t want to leave the only person who has ever loved me.

  He isn’t only my big brother; he is my only parent. He has been forced to step in due to our mother’s negligence. Her constant drug use and drinking, intermingled with blackouts, forced us to grow up long before the natural progression of years would have.

  The men, a different one every night, become another terror we have to constantly avoid. We hide from the beatings by sleeping in the streets.

  My brother is forced to work with the Colombian cartel just to feed us. Now, the only security I have ever known is being torn from my small, trembling hands. I died that day. My heart was ripped from my chest and it was the day a small boy was forced to become a man before his time.

  Roxanne

  I toss and turn throughout the night and it isn’t just due to the pain my body is in. I hear my husband screaming in his sleep. He begins by calling out for his brother, Ricardo, and begging him not to leave him. I guess the dream changes because, all of the sudden, he’s reaching out with his hands and calling out my name, begging for me not to leave him.

  I feel a wrenching in my chest when he cries out my name while his body breaks out in a cold sweat. Compassion wells up in me for a man who just finished brutalizing me only hours before. He has succeeded in doing exactly what he threatened to do. He owns the biggest piece of me now. I find myself more and more resolved, with each passing day, to stay with this man. I know he is tormented by his own set of demons due to a childhood no one should be subjected to, least of all a six year old little boy, and I find that, little by little, he is worming his way into my heart.

  I awake the next morning feeling like I have been beat up and run over by a truck. Memories of the night before flood my mind. I haven’t realized yet that my husband is staring at me.

  He makes his way across the room and coldly states, “I’m very disappointed in you, Roxanne.” He pierces through me with his cold, black eyes and I feel like I have no choice but to just look away.

  He reaches down to call Alexis on the intercom and command her to help me get in the shower.

  Alexis makes her way into the room and eyes Antonio as he blankly stares at her.

  “You are beautiful but, then again, all of my women are.” I find it odd how his words are more of a statement spoken to himself than to her. He seems to be very aloof and disconnected in both his actions and demeanor this morning.

  He walks away and looks in the mirror to knot his tie. Why does he have to be so fucking gorgeous?

  “Come on, Roxanne,” Alexis speaks as she eyes my bruised body. She whisks me away into the bathroom, and away from Antonio Wayne’s prying eyes, before she hands me four pain pills. “Here, Roxanne, I stole them from Tony’s desk.”

  She waits until the water begins to run before she asks me what happened.

  “He found out that I was going to run away. I guess Juanita told his brother and he called him. That’s what he said happened. He basically interrogated me all night.”

  I have no way of knowing that it was Alexis who told him about my conversation with Juanita and she is not about to admit that she is the one who told Antonio. If I knew that she was the one who told him, I would also know that she never thought he would subject me to this interrogation.

  She knows how dangerous Antonio can be. Alexis witnessed Antonio almost beat a man to death in the alley behind the club one night and she has been scared of him ever since. We all know all too well that Antonio is brutal and vicious by nature. I’m just glad he didn’t unleash the full extent of his sadism on me last night. My husband has a very bad temper to say the least.

  For some reason, Antonio feels compassion for me that he doesn’t have for others.

  “What did he use to interrogate you, Roxanne?”

  I answer, “He just cuffed me down on the bed and questioned me all night. He did pinch the crap out of me. I guess that is what the bruising is from. The marks on my wrists and ankles are just from me struggling against the cuffs. ”

  She looks at me and shakes her head. “Girl, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  After I take a shower, Alexis exits the bathroom with me and I see her cut her eyes at Antonio Wayne.

  Antonio coldly looks up and asks, “Have you got a problem, Alexis?”

  Alexis answers, “A little rough, don’t you think, Antonio?”

  “Oh, I’m Antonio now?” He bolts over, grabbing her arm in anger, and we both jump. I can only guess he knows that she is being sar
castic by the way she drawled his name out with contempt when she said it. I wonder how long it’s been since she used his full first name. As long as I’ve known her, he has always been ‘Tony’ to her and that, more than anything, tells me how angry she is with him.

  Antonio leers at Alexis, “Are you questioning me on how I deal with my women?”

  Alexis jerks her arm away and gives him no answer. She makes her way to the bed with me and reaches over to call for coffee. She whispers in my ear, “Those pills will kick in in a minute.”

  Wayne growls, “What did you say to her, Alexis?”

  Alexis lies and says, “I asked her if she needed something for pain. Can you get her something?”

  He coldly answers, “Can you say please?”

  “Please,” she blankly eyes him. I’m shocked because I’ve never witnessed her stand up to him. She isn’t even trying to hide the fact that she is really pissed right now. Any other time he can do no wrong in her eyes. That is not the case today, for sure. A part of me feels an allegiance to her for standing up to him.

  “I will think about it, Alexis,” he says and then quickly leaves the room.

  “Jerk!” Alexis says under her breath. Wow, she really is angry.

  I sleep most of the day and wake up to Antonio telling me that it’s time to get ready.

  I make my way over to Alexis, not even looking at Antonio, and open her drawer to grab five pain pills.

  “That is too many, Roxanne.”

  “Not with the way I feel, it isn’t.”

  I am glad for the long sleeved, Mexican muslin shirt I wear to cover my bruises. I pair it with skinny jeans and edgy black stilettos and it looks drop dead gorgeous. I grab three more pain pills without Alexis seeing me.

  I nurse a glass of Cristal as we head over to the club in silence. Alexis and I make our way to the dressing room. Both of us know that the other will not tell the secrets of the night before. Antonio also knows the secret will remain amongst the three of us. It is just the way it is.

  I slam down a couple of shots and I am well on my way to being buzzed.

  Antonio stands in the dressing room doorway to get a feel for the girls; he’s always the interrogator. His eyes are so cold as he looks down and informs me to accompany him. I feel a twinge of guilt as I think about how abandoned he must have felt when he heard I was going to leave him. How the hell does he manage to make me feel guilty after all the shit he put me through last night? I get up and notice that I stagger a bit but as he reaches to help me, I jerk away from him.

  He eyes me when we sit down and he states, “You need to eat. How many drinks have you had? Fuck, Roxanne, how many pills have you taken? Damn it, it’s like you stay in trouble, girl. You’re always getting into shit. I swear I’ll stick my hand down your throat before I let you OD. When are you going to get it? I'm never going to let you leave me. You don’t even have control over whether you live or die but I damn sure do.”

  I answer, “I don’t know.”

  “How many pills did you take, Roxanne?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Antonio unbuttons his jacket, obviously irritated, and looks up to view FBI guy.

  The agent’s eyes are trained on me as he speaks to my husband. “I’d like to speak to Roxanne alone.”

  Antonio sneers at him, “That’s not going to happen.”

  He questions me, “Are you okay?”

  “Yep,” I slur. Yeah, I’m feeling no pain right now. When I move my arm to grab the drink I most certainly don’t need right now, my shirt moves up my arm enough to reveal the bruises on my wrist.

  “Yeah, right!” he says as he grabs my arm. “If I ever find out these bruises aren’t consensual, there are going to be problems, Antonio Wayne! I already informed your wife that if she wanted out of this relationship, she could come live with me. While we’re on the subject, Antonio, I may as well let you know that I think you were right. I may very well be falling for your wife.”

  Where is all this coming from? This guy has never said anything like that to me. If I get my ass kicked because of him, I swear I’ll beat his ass myself.

  David is no more falling for me than I am for him; he just said it to bug Antonio. Doesn’t he fucking realize he is putting me in a dangerous situation?

  “Well, while we are on the subject,” Antonio sarcastically replies, “she will not be talking to you alone anymore.”

  David calmly eyes Antonio and says, “You are never going to stop that,” and then turns to leave.

  FBI guy is going to get hurt fucking with Antonio like that…

  Chapter Ten

  Agent Turner

  I don’t know why I said all that shit back at the bar. Hell, for all I know, that girl may enjoy Antonio’s dominance just like I enjoy Rene’s. People outside of our world don’t get it. We’re born this way, wired with a bent towards kink. What we term vanilla sex just doesn’t do it for us. No, the itch we have that cries out to be scratched goes much deeper than the standard, garden-variety sex. We need more, so much more.

  I just have too much on my mind with all these abductions. I won’t permit women to be taken against their will. Piracy is becoming a real problem at sea. Antonio doesn’t know it but I can help him find his cargo. One thing I will say for Antonio Wayne Ramirez is that when he brings women over, he gives them jobs. He doesn’t have to steal women. Hell, his girls nicknamed him The Magic Man. He has one hell of a reputation for his bedroom antics. This is the first time I have ever witnessed the guy with only one woman. He has got it bad for this girl.

  I’ve got to rescue these stolen women before they are so traumatized that, mentally, there is no coming back or before they are so addicted to drugs that they will only return to their captors even after being rescued. The responsibility weighs heavily on me. If I was to be honest with myself, every case does. I have to know that I have done all I can do on each and every case I work. I can’t get up in the morning and look myself in the face if I haven’t done everything I can do to rescue or vindicate a victim of crime.

  Roxanne

  “Where are you going, Roxanne?” Antonio questions me as he slams the door to the bedroom. The large wooden door looks like it was taken straight from an old, medieval castle and the hasp sliding through the metal sends a chill up my spine. The familiar fear flows through me and I can feel the moisture gathering between my thighs, as I grow wet with arousal. This time, however, it’s an arousal I have no intentions of giving in to.

  I stand and hold my pillow tightly against my chest as I look at Antonio with wide, innocent, doe eyes. “To bed.”

  “Your bed is right there,” he nods towards the bed.

  I pad over to the bed and say, “I want to go to Alexis.”

  He comes over and wrenches my pillow from my grasp. He begins to unbutton my shirt and remove it. I cross my arms in front of me and he uncrosses them.

  “Your place is here with me, Roxanne.” He raises my chin, “Look at me.”

  He lifts my face to view big tears rolling down my cheeks.

  “You hurt me,” I whimper. “I feel like you broke something in me. Is this what you do to your women?”

  I can see his heartstrings tugging as he views my childlike behavior.

  “I’m trying to protect you, Roxanne.” He speaks to me softly and slowly as if it will help me understand why he subjected me to a night of interrogation when Juanita and I planned to escape.

  “No, you’re not. You’re trying to break me and you broke the wrong thing. I want to go to Alexis.” I turn and make my way out of the room.

  Roxanne

  I sleep with Alexis every night since I told my husband that he broke me. On the fourth night, I wake up to Antonio standing over me. “Get up,” he says as he pulls me out of bed and takes me to his bedroom.

  He locks the door and turns to look at me. The pain etched in his face is evident and, once again, my heart betrays me, wrenching for the little boy trapped in this broken man’s body.


  I stand there, looking at him in the pale moonlight. I’m dressed in a button up shirt and underwear and have my arms crossed defensively.

  He approaches me slowly in the dim light and I can see him tremble as he unbuttons my shirt. I can’t ever remember a time that I’ve seen his hands anything but steady.

  He reaches up to cup my breasts, now healed from the abuse they suffered at his sadistic hands. He places one in his mouth and gently sucks, savoring my flesh as if he has missed me beyond measure.

  He takes his hands and runs them along the sides of my panties. Before I can resist or object, he hooks his thumbs and pulls them down swiftly, betraying his evident need of me. It does no good to try and fight what this man does to me. It is futile; my body always responds to him.

  “I love you so much, Roxanne, that it physically hurts. I can feel it in my chest and it aches.” He is on his knees and looking up at me as if he is begging me to believe the words that he speaks. I have never witnessed this strong, independent man in as vulnerable of a state as I’m seeing right now. He’s different with me and I don’t know why. It isn’t anything that I have purposely done to him. I need to remember that though he may be vulnerable, he is not weak. This sadistic monster I have let loose is more dangerous to me now than ever before. He is dangerous because he will stop at nothing to keep me.

  “You’re so intense, Tony,” I say as I run my hand through his thick, black hair.

  He pulls me down to the fur rug and finishes removing my shirt. He stares as if he is transfixed, telling me how beautiful I am. He cups my breast and whispers, “You are so soft,” as he kisses up and down my neck.

  “I love you so much, Roxanne,” he says once again, right before he enters me. “God, I love you so much.”

  His eyes search my face as he gently makes love to me for the first time since my capture. There is no rough possession; there is only a soft, gentle persuasion.