Forced to Change Ch. 06-07

Chapter 6

His headache had disappeared by the time he turned his car into the downtown parking lot. He parked just across the street from the heart of campus and killed the engine. The headaches always leveled off when he decided to hunt.

He was still reeling from his earlier phone conversation. Carter had promised him many things this night. He'd been promising him many things over the years. That was Carter's job though, to follow through on his desires. His family had given him Carter when he was a young man. Every powerful man needed a Carter in their life. A fixer, someone who fine-tuned the world to their liking for them.

He was hungry, but not for food, and campus was always a good hunting ground for his appetite. He crossed the street, watching the blissfully ignorant students as they stumbled in and out of the assortment of bars and restaurants.

He only needed one, a lookalike until the real prize was hand delivered to his doorstep. It would be the last time, he promised himself, licking his lips.

When most of the college-aged girls looked at him they saw dollar signs in his tailored suit and expensive car. Their instincts as much as his Latin features told them he was a dangerous man, but they ignored that because he was also handsome and charming when he wanted to be.

They were hungry for him, because despite their youth, they were whores—but weren't all women, really? Whether they admitted it or not, all women traded sex for money. From a nice dinner at a restaurant to a wedding band, women took some form of payment to spread their legs. For him, it was usually cold hard cash these days, but there were times when he just took what he wanted anyway. That was before he became a key player in the Riaz Cartel, before he had a real family.

He only needed to make a little banal conversation with his prey. He picked up a bar tab or two to find what he desired. Money made hunting easier. He walked them across the street to the hotel, where he had a standing suite. The staff was paid to ignore any noise that emanated from the room. Money. It solved almost every problem he'd ever had. Kathryn Rollins was the only exception to his money rule. After tonight, money would take care of her too.

As he closed the hotel room door, tonight's entree stared at him, giggling and hiccupping at the same time. She looked enough like his ideal feast that she would do. After tonight he wouldn't need to substitute again.

"What should I call you?" She stumbled across the floor and dropped on the white couch. A long strand of brown hair stuck to her glossy lips.

"Call me Commandant," he said as he removed his belt and snapped it against his open palm.   Chapter 7

We returned to the car with Darkie leading the way, me in the middle, and Blondie right behind me. Blondie was holding my hands against the small of my back. I blinked and looked at the road; it seemed hauntingly like a ghost town—or at least the way I'd always pictured a ghost town. The late hour and the snow also contributed to the emptiness. I wanted to believe that what was happening to me now was nothing like Cantana. As we walked I couldn't help but compare my current predicament with my past. When we reached the car, Darkie undid his belt and pulled it through the loops of his black jeans. I wished I'd fought harder in the field.

I trembled. I wanted so much to trust Blondie. I needed to believe him. Maybe 'believe' was the wrong word. I wished Blondie's lies were the truth. I couldn't rationalize or figure out why he'd seemed so sincere, so trustworthy. The only reason I had was his familiar blond hair and blue eyes. I felt frustrated, duped, and angry for grasping at the small bit of hope he offered. Darkie wasn't going to wait and I should have known better.

Darkie held his belt out to the blond man. Nothing brought out my fear more than being bound. I was instantly in panic mode.

"No, no! Please don't tie me up," I said.

"Shut up!" Darkie growled in my face. "Do it." He stuffed the belt into Blondie's hand.

For all my bravado, it was the thought of being restrained that had me whimpering and crying. Don't panic. I grasped to remember the lessons from my self-defense training. I couldn't remember a single thing and I was disgusted with myself.

"Please, please, no! I'll be good. I won't fight. Just please not that," I pleaded with more volume as I struggled to free myself. Blondie's hand tightened to the point of pain, his grip vice-like, and I stopped. "I've got her. We don't have to—"

His words were cut off. "Don't be a fool! She's playing you."

Darkie stomped around to the driver's side of my car. Blondie mumbled under his breath as he wrapped the belt around and around my wrists.

"Don't worry, Katie," he whispered as he took his time securing the belt. He looped the leather over and under, then pulled the end through the buckle until my hands were tightly restrained.

Even through the coat I could feel how tightly it was tied. If I'd thought of it sooner I could have held my hands slightly apart. I wished I had a little give, but there was none. I couldn't control my fear and I panicked. Cantana, Noel, and the Commandant all flashed through my mind, forcing their way into my every thought. To me, being tied up meant pain. My body automatically went limp and passive.

Blondie was gentle as he pushed me into the back seat on my stomach. As unlikely as it was, I seemed to have an ally in one of the men holding me captive. More and more I was starting to think Blondie wasn't the one in charge. He may have been pulled into the situation unwillingly by Darkie. He could be just as much a victim as me. Blondie tucked my legs in and placed my feet on his lap.

My whole body shook violently. I couldn't think. I couldn't hear. Nothing seemed to matter other than the problem that I couldn't move my hands more than a millimeter, if that much. I sobbed, choking out my protest and my fear.

Don't panic, my voice screamed inside my head. I didn't want to lose chunks of time again like I had when I'd been tied up in Cantana. I tried to stop myself from floating away from the here and now. I had to concentrate hard to keep myself in the present.

The two men talked. Apparently my crying annoyed Darkie, although I really couldn't grasp much of their conversation. I let my anger burn.

Anger was better than panic. I continued my soft mewling intentionally, just to distract the driver. The tight restraints on my wrists had no give as I pulled on them, acting the victim for all it was worth. It helped to keep me centered. I saw Blondie smile at my efforts.

"Shut her up, Jared. If you don't I'll put a bullet in her head and fuck her corpse," Darkie sneered from the driver's seat as he started the car.

Eww, gross, I thought as Blondie frowned. Then it hit me. Blondie—uh, Jared—had called me 'Katie.' I hiccupped, which cut off the loud sobs of my performance. How did he know my nickname? My driver's license said 'Kathryn Rollins,' but he'd called me Katie. I was too shocked to move or make another sound.

"We're cutting it close as it is. If you want to kill her we're going to have to stop to dump the body. I'm not riding with a dead body. So shut up and drive," Jared said quietly as he stared at the back of Darkie's head. It was cold the way he said it, like he didn't care what happened to me.

So much for his pretty lies in the field, I thought. I'd need to revisit that victim angle. It didn't matter that Jared knew me.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rolled onto my side. The turn accomplished two things. First, my hands weren't in either man's sight line. Second, the new position forced my arms closer together at the elbow. My shoulders screamed but I took deep breaths to lessen the pain. I had the give I was looking for around my wrists. Working on freeing my hands, I waited for my next opportunity to control the situation.