Branded Page 5

  “No! Stop!” she called when her dress was pulled up from her crotch to her waist and the central man unbuckled his belt.

  “Beg, girl, that’s what I want you to do, beg,” he said, his speech slightly slurred probably as a result of her assault, though from the wild and frenzied way the trio manhandled her, and the craziness in their eyes, she’d guess they were high on some kind of substance, which was worse news for her. Their inhibitions were low; they were goading each other on. It would be a long and horrific night.

  “Shit,” Archer muttered somewhere in the distant background, then his voice grew strong. “Get your fucking hands off her.”

  A vast shadow rose behind the principal assaulter and he was lifted off her body. After some swearing, the other men let her go to jump up. Scrambling to her feet, Nya pulled the straps of her dress to her shoulders and staggered for the door.

  Except someone grabbed her and hauled her back. It was one of her attackers. He threw her to the floor so he could run over and slam the door, blocking it with his body. Nya was confused, dazed by adrenaline, and uncertain about what the hell Archer was doing.

  “Change of plans,” Archer said.

  “You fucker!”

  Nya wiped blood from her mouth. The assaulter she’d bitten swung for Archer, but he bowed back to avoid the punch and grabbed the guy’s wrist to spin him around and thrust him against the wall. Archer produced a knife from his belt and swung it around to hold it against the throat of the man he was restraining as he assessed the trio. One man he had against the wall, the other was at the door, and the third stood on the other side of the fireplace from where she’d been cast aside.

  “Do we have a problem?” Archer asked the men.

  “We had a fucking deal!”

  Archer’s glare snapped to the man under his knife who’d called out. This was the same man who’d assaulted her, so she felt no sympathy when the color drained from him.

  “Get the bitch!” the man at the door called out to the one by the fireplace.

  She couldn’t let them get their hands on her. They could be prepared for trouble, or have planned to erase the evidence of what they’d done to her, meaning they could have a weapon close to hand.

  The guy at the fireplace stuttered and faltered. Archer spun his current victim around and pinned him to the wall with an arm pressed into the width of his chest. As the bastard struggled to draw breath, Archer twisted to monitor the room. “Any of you fuckers touch her and he dies,” Archer said, insinuating the edge of his blade into the ringleader’s throat until a thick red line formed against it. Nobody moved. “Get up and move.”

  Archer was still watching the men like they were hungry hyenas who could snap at any minute. Nya was so stunned it took her half a beat to figure out that Archer was talking to her. She climbed onto her feet and stumbled toward the door, pulling at her dress to straighten it.

  For whatever reason, Archer hadn’t followed through with his plan. She could be on that floor being screwed by these slobbering maniacs right now, and the only reason she wasn’t, was because Archer had a change of heart.

  “He’s going to kill me anyway,” said the man under Archer’s blade. “And he’ll kill you too, bitch!”

  Archer didn’t flinch. “Move!”

  Leaving Archer here was appealing. Inching toward the door, Nya kept her distance from the man who had been blocking it. When that prick cleared out of her way, she couldn’t move fast enough, and ran to the door to pull it open.

  But Archer wasn’t finished with the man who’d tried to attack him. Thrusting a hand to the bastard’s forehead, Archer forced his victim’s head back to expose the soft flesh of his neck beneath his chin.

  In a deft move, Archer used the tip of his blade to carve a continuous shape into the objecting man’s skin. When he lowered the weapon and she saw what he’d done, her breath caught in her throat, immobilizing her. Examining her cuff-covered wrist as though she could see her burn through it, Nya recognized the similarity of her brand to the shape Archer had just sliced into that guy.

  Getting in close, Archer ignored the whimpers of the man he’d just disfigured. “Think about coming after me or her, and you’ll get yourself more than a flesh wound, Bryant.”

  Leaving Bryant to clutch his chin and whine, Archer shoved away, satisfied that he’d taken care of business, and stormed over to grab hold of her.

  Carting her along behind him, he dragged her through the kitchen and into the garage to stuff her back into his car. “Archer, I—”

  “Don’t say a word,” he growled and gunned the engine. “Don’t say a fucking word.”

  She wouldn’t know where to begin. Something had to be said because she still didn’t know exactly what had happened in there. But it was clear that Archer was in no mood to fill in the blanks for her this minute.

  Throwing a hand to the back of her headrest, he reversed out and sped away from the house at far greater speed than he’d used to get here.

  An odd calm had come over her at the house while she watched Archer scar Bryant. But as he seethed and drove fast, the calm receded to panic. They drove for miles, out of the quaint respectable neighborhood, back onto the highway into the city.

  Nya clutched her seatbelt, pressing herself back into his seat. “Archer,” she said. “Please slow down.” Before tonight, she’d have assumed he wasn’t a man to be reasoned with. She wasn’t sure her opinion had changed that much, but her survival instinct made her speak up. “Please, Archer, I’m scared.”

  His scowl was so fierce that she feared it would crack the windscreen. He didn’t acknowledge her words until without warning he slammed on the brake, swinging a tight turn that made it feel like two wheels left the road. Nya was still braced for the impact of a possible roll when the car jolted to a stop in a dark corner of a convenience store parking lot.

  She didn’t blink. She didn’t breathe. She fixated on his profile and waited for her heart to slow and for him to say something. The sound of his breathing intensified the humid atmosphere in this claustrophobic environment.

  His abrupt first word made her jump. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He kept swearing and smacking the steering wheel with his fists and palms.

  Nya’s impulse to flee was thwarted by her locked door. All she could do was sit here and wish for the past to return: the speeding was scary, but not as scary as this.

  Tears tracked down her face, but she wasn’t sure what they were for. Fear of this crazy, frantic, angry man? Relief that she wasn’t being violated by those letches anymore? Gratitude that Archer had stepped in when quite clearly, doing so hadn’t been in his best interests?

  Maybe it was that last possibility that made her reach out and touch him. When she laid her hand on his arm he stilled. Immediately. Either the act of making contact, or reminder of her presence calmed him down, which could just mean that he didn’t like to lose it in front of anyone. Until now he’d been a picture of composure around her. Always cool. Never provoked.

  For the first time, she sensed anxiety, and it was enough to make her feel some sympathy for the guy who’d just cut her a break. “How much money does Tag owe you?” she asked.

  Her friend was no saint and she was under no illusions about what he did or who he associated with. Archer existed in the same grey area of legitimacy that Tag did. Different men had different limits and she’d learned tonight where her abductor drew his line.

  “Twenty grand.”

  Ok, so she hadn’t been expecting a figure that high. No wonder he’d chosen to take her to an upmarket location for an orgy. Standing on a street corner, offering twenty bucks a blowjob would’ve taken her years to earn that kind of money. “Did you earn it? Win it? Lend it to him?”

  “Does it matter?” he asked, resting his forearms on the steering wheel when he stretched them out.

  No, she didn’t suppose that it did and after what had just happened, he had other things on his mind, so she didn’t push
. “Thank you,” she offered after a dozen quiet seconds. “For not making me—”

  “Don’t,” he said, tensing in a recoil that exuded disgust. “Don’t thank me.”

  But she was grateful that he’d fucked himself out of whatever dough she could’ve earned for him tonight. For whatever reason, he hadn’t wanted that man to touch her. On arriving at Bryant’s, she was certain she’d leave his house a different woman. In a way, she had. Nya had thought she’d be broken, violated, and repulsed. Instead, she’d gotten a reprieve and maybe some relief. Archer had abused her, no doubt about that, but he was human and capable of compassion.

  Quid pro quo might actually earn her freedom. “Let me talk to him,” she said and he twisted to look at her. “If you let me talk to Tag, I’ll find out what’s going on, why he hasn’t paid you.” His stony expression didn’t flinch. While she could understand him being dubious, he really had nothing to lose. “What’s the worst that will happen? I tell him I’m with you and he storms over to fight with you? You want to see him anyway, don’t you? If I’d given you his location, you’d have gone to see him.”

  “Tell me where he is,” he said in the same deep drawl that he used to intimidate her. It didn’t quite have the same effect anymore because he’d become a different man. He’d put her into peril, but he’d also saved her life. His actions tonight made her rethink everything she’d experienced with him.

  Nya shook her head. “I can’t,” she said and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But I can get in touch with him.”

  “You’re in love with the guy, but he won’t tell you where he’s living?” His expression suggested he was questioning the point of hanging onto her if she was so unimportant in Tag’s life. If she were an obsessed stalker, she’d get why he was so suspicious. The truth was the opposite. Tag always had to know where she was and if he’d figured out that she hadn’t been home for days, he’d be livid.

  By now, he had to be aware of what had happened in Sizzle. At least, Tag would know that his bouncers were dead and Jamie was… whatever she was. But unless the cops had caught any of the assailants they wouldn’t know Archer had turned up to steal her out of there.

  “I’m not in love with him, not like that.”

  Archer frowned again, the first sign he was about to ask a question. “For real? Thought you were feeding me bullshit to protect his ass.”

  A new honesty was forming in their relationship. They were becoming more equal instead of abductor and abductee, which made sense now that she’d seen he had vulnerabilities. “You have a lot to learn about me, Archer. I would never be ashamed of loving my guy. I’d shout his name with pride before I’d deny it.”

  “So who is your guy?”

  Was he worried about the unseen threat that he hadn’t considered? Not that it mattered. She shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

  “Why not? You’re hot and guys will fuck anything.”

  What a compliment that was. “I haven’t met a guy who’s ready to declare me so honestly,” she said. “I’d like my guy to have a bit of integrity.”

  “Not many of those around,” he muttered, scrutinizing the neon open light in the building down the lot.

  “No.”

  Giving him the time to sort his thoughts and make decisions, she said nothing. Talking to Tag was a great offer for Archer as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t making promises or saying she’d go out of her way to help him, but it wouldn’t hurt to get some information. His options were running out now that he’d proved he only had the stomach to take this abduction thing to a certain level.

  She didn’t know where Tag was exactly, and so couldn’t hand over his location. Not that she would. Archer couldn’t force her to turn tricks to earn him his money, that plan hadn’t worked out so great. So from her point of view, this was the only solution left.

  It was that or Archer kept her on his bathroom floor until Tag eventually found her. Except if the cops hadn’t figured out who’d attacked Sizzle, they could be waiting a while for progress. Investigations, official or otherwise, took time, weeks or months, and this case wouldn’t be a priority. Archer might not be able to wait for his money indefinitely.

  “Two minutes,” he said, fixating on the payphone at the boundary of the lot. “You call him and tell him if he hands over the money, I’ll let you go.”

  That was a terrible idea and she’d never been shy about being honest. So while squinting, she shook her head. “If you threaten him, he’ll dig in,” Nya said. “The two of you strike me as similar in that way.”

  Rotating in his seat, he rested an elbow on the shoulder of his chair and his hand on her headrest. “What the fuck?”

  Despite his surprise, she didn’t retreat from her point. “Sure, you’re bull-headed and stubborn. I’ve seen it. You kept me chained to a pipe in your bathroom for days. That takes dedication. If someone you cared about was threatened and held for ransom, would you just hand over the money and say ‘sayonara, no hard feelings’? I don’t think so. The point is to end this, not to draw out the craziness.”

  Well he might not have been expecting her to be so forthcoming, but he humored her. “So what do you suggest?”

  Her immediate suggestion wouldn’t be popular, so she’d rather be vague about specifics until she got a measure of Tag’s mood on the phone. “Trust me.” His brows rose. “Let me talk to him, this could be a misunderstanding. If it is, you don’t want to start a fight with Tag.” Archer didn’t flinch, but he wasn’t impressed. “You don’t, Archer. You’ll lose. Against Tag, there’s just no way. No one ever beats him. He prides himself on that.”

  “You’ve got a lot to learn about me too, Squirm.”

  “My name is Nya,” she said because they’d never actually been introduced. “And you’ve gone about this the wrong way from the beginning. If you’d come to me, explained yourself, I would’ve helped you.”

  Maybe. Ok, maybe not, and he didn’t appear to be convinced. “You give out your boyfriend’s money to every guy who comes to the bar looking for him?”

  That wasn’t what she meant. But she was way more reasonable than Tag, and definitely fairer. If Archer’s beef was legitimate, she might have brought up his name with Tag and maybe argued his case. But there was no point in speculating about what might have happened if things were different. They were here now, in this moment. All she could do was react to current circumstances. “If you trust me, and you’re genuinely owed that money, I’ll get it for you. I’m the only one who can.”

  Another truth. He didn’t have to accept that she and Tag had a special relationship and that she had influence with her friend. But Archer was obviously curious about how true her last statement was, because he didn’t shut her down or backtrack.

  Trusting each other wasn’t easy. They had the ability to help the other achieve their goal—his money and her freedom. Nya could try to cut and run, but she didn’t want Archer on Tag’s tail. Tag was formidable, but she’d seen what Archer was capable of. Would Archer relent some of his control and let her help him?

  five

  Opening the vehicle’s ashtray, he took out a pack of gum and tossed it to her before prodding around at the coins inside to retrieve some change. Glad of the chance to dilute the taste of her attacker’s bloody tongue from her mouth, Nya squeezed out two gum nuggets.

  Archer scooped out the money and left the car, but when she tried to follow, her door wouldn’t open. She was stuck until Archer came around the hood to let her out.

  “This door only opens from the outside,” he said, hooking a finger through the metal loop on the leather cuff he’d buckled to her wrist. The maneuver was signal that she was still on his leash, and a sign that he didn’t want to chase after her if she tried to run.

  Nya would rather he touched the accessory than her, and it was better than being carried or dragged, too, so she didn’t object. She was more preoccupied by why the car door was rigged and what Archer did for a living that meant he had to detain
people other than her on a regular basis.

  Leading her to the payphone, he picked up the receiver, “I’ll be right here, so don’t get any ideas,” he said.

  Right there was right. After he gave her the receiver and positioned her to face the phone, he pressed his weight into her spine, reminding her of who was in charge. Looming over her, he threw coins into the slot.

  Because she didn’t want Archer to see Tag’s number, Nya curved her body around the digits and hid the numbers with her hand. Only when she was done did she take the receiver from her shoulder.

  It rang. She couldn’t focus on what she was going to say because she was too aware of Archer behind her. Wriggling her weight back, she tried to get him to give her some room, but he swayed forward in a gentle, but full, body push that communicated he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Hello?” Tag snapped down the line.

  Nya sprang to her tiptoes. “Taggy?” she gasped his name.

  “Oh my god, Yorkie, where have you been? What the fuck happened at Sizzle?”

  Tag didn’t usually sound so stressed, but she’d guess her being off the grid would’ve scared him given that he didn’t have the full picture of what had gone down at Sizzle. “I need to see you,” she said. “Can we meet up?”

  “You don’t have to ask. Tell me where you are, I’ll pick you up.”

  Having been her savior and support in the past, Tag would drop everything and be there for anything she needed. But a confrontation in a deserted parking lot between him and Archer wouldn’t be smart. While emotions were running so high, neither man would be reasonable, and she didn’t want it to look like she’d set either of them up.

  “I’d rather come to you. I need somewhere to lay low,” she said and he didn’t ask any more questions, just gave her an address. Triumphant relief made her smile and pump an elbow back into Archer’s ribs, but it still didn’t make him retreat.

  “What happened at Sizzle?” Tag asked.

  The reminder of that night extinguished her satisfaction. “Jamie,” she murmured. “Where is she? Is she recovering?”