Hunted by the Feral Alpha Page 8

  There was a strange sort of understanding between them. She liked to think that he wouldn’t hurt her if he didn’t have to, even if it was certainly just wishful thinking.

  “Get to work.” Jason hadn’t turned the voice changer back on, but he still managed to sound terrifying. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  Freddy levered himself slowly off the wall, making a show of squeezing past them down the hallway. He reached out and cruelly pinched the soft skin on the inside of her upper arm. The movement was too fast for Jason to stop it. But she liked to think that he would have tried if given the chance.

  Jason made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, but let the other man pass. He propelled her down the hallway and back toward the room that she had been in before.

  The two sets of handcuffs were still lying on the floor next to a metal girder. She didn’t want to lie down again on the cold scratchy floor. Her back would never be the same after so many hours contorted in a strange position.

  And she was already kicking herself for not trying to escape before. She was not making that same mistake again.

  “Could you just handcuff my legs so I can sit up?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound as pitiful and sad as she could. “Please. It hurts so much lying on the floor.”

  The look he gave her was assessing. His gaze lingered on her lips. She deliberately licked them—not exactly suggestive, but close enough. If he was remembering about how good it felt to have her mouth on him, maybe he wouldn’t think too much about her request.

  “Go on,” he said. He picked up both sets of handcuffs. But he slid one of them into the back pocket of his jeans and held up the other. “Only while you eat.”

  A burst of triumph shot through her. She sat cross-legged on the floor and let him wrap the handcuffs around the metal beam and attach them to her ankles.

  As he leaned over her, their knees bumped against each other. His were covered in denim and hers were scraped and sore from the hard, dirty floor. But the shock of the contact still rolled over her. She had a sudden and intense flashback of kneeling between those knees and taking him into her mouth. Her stomach tightened and for a moment it was impossible to breathe.

  She didn’t understand why she was reacting to him this way. She should be terrified and disgusted and she should hate him with every fiber of her being.

  But she could tell from the way his eyes got a little wider and the tiny flare of his nostrils that he felt something too.

  Footsteps moved across the grimy floor. Jason slid back quickly, putting more space between them. Michael came in carrying a sandwich on a paper plate and a Dixie cup full of what she assumed was water. It was the same thing they had fed her that morning and she wasn’t holding out hope for something better down the line. He took deliberately shuffling steps that echoed off the floor and plaster walls.

  She realized it was the first time that she had heard him approach.

  Michael handed the sandwich to Jason, but didn’t immediately let go, so they were both holding the plate for a long moment. Some silent communication passed between them that she didn’t have the ability to understand.

  Another moment passed, then Michael turned away and strode out of the room. This time his feet were silent on the floor.

  Jason pushed the plate across the floor to her and she accepted with a forced smile, reminding herself that she was still trying to play nice. If she did manage to get out of this alive, she would probably never eat another sandwich for the rest of her life. It was amazing how little time it took to get sick of cheap bread and convenience store lunch meat.

  From what she could tell, they all lived in this abandoned building. She wondered how long they’d existed on the fringes like this, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what you want from my dad?”

  She assumed that he was going to ignore the question and leave, but he knelt on the floor and stared at her.

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, surprised by the childish impulse. “Or not?”

  She took a bite of the bland sandwich, like it didn’t matter to her one way or the other. But her nerves jangled like Christmas bells and she had to fight to keep her hands from shaking.

  “You don’t suck dick like a good Christian girl.”

  The sandwich nearly fell out of her hands. She set it back down on the plate before it hit the floor. “That’s a shitty thing to say.”

  “You don’t talk much like one either.”

  At first she’d been grateful for the masks. If they were hiding their faces, there was still some chance that they planned to let her go. It was protection for all of them. But right now, she just wanted to see the expression on his face. Was he smiling or frowning? Was he just trying to screw with her head or was he actually a little curious about her?

  “Maybe you don’t know that much about good Christian girls.”

  “Tell me, then.” He crossed his legs on the floor and leaned forward in a parody of interest. “Do you and your girlfriends watch naughty videos after the lights go out? Or does that hand-holding policy that you were talking about not apply to the rest of the body?”

  She understood that he was trying to push her, force some sort of reaction. But she didn’t understand why or what he ultimately wanted.

  “I guess that means you thought it was good,” she said, forcing her voice to sound casual. She couldn’t believe she was even having this conversation. “I mean, if you think I’ve had lots of practice.”

  There was a smile in his voice. “It was good. There’s a real future in it for you. I mean, if that finishing school doesn’t work out.”

  Indignation momentarily overcame her fear. “I’m not in finishing school. For your information, I’m going to be a software engineer.”

  “Look at you, all liberated.” He didn’t say it like it was an insult, but more of an observation. “And what does Daddy think about you trying to run away from the farm?”

  “We own the largest noncorporate cattle ranch in Tennessee. It’s not a farm.”

  “If you say so.”

  “And I’m not running away. I’m going to college like a normal person so I can have a career.”

  “Is that why Daddy sent you to a school that produces more marriage licenses than degrees?”

  She did have a lot of friends that had gotten married and dropped out of school. But Southern girls married young. Everyone knew that. “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Software engineering, is that what you said?” His voice was musing. “Does Conscience College even offer a degree in software engineering?”

  Sophia winced. She’d had her fair share of fights with her father over this exact issue when she was in high school, but she still felt a need to defend him. “Information technology is still pretty close.”

  “Is it?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Just wondering why a girl who’s so into computers that she builds them herself would go to a school like Conscience. Unless it really wasn’t her choice in the first place.”

  Her eyes snapped up. “How do you know about that?”

  “I thought you were a hacker. You must know information is out there for people who know where to look.”

  How long had he been keeping tabs on her, she wondered. She couldn’t decide if she was more intrigued or repulsed by the idea. “What’s your point?”

  “What does dear old dad think about the hacking?”

  He didn’t know and would flip his gasket if he ever found out. “He thinks it’s great.”

  Jason was laughing at her now. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  She didn’t like that he was trying to act like her father didn’t want what was best for her. “My father loves me.”

  “I’m sure, especially when you’re standing behind him in a pretty little dress on the campaign trail. Has he picked out an appropriate android for you to marr
y yet, or is he going to let you graduate first?”

  There was no way he could know about the dinner parties her father set up. The ones where she just happened to be introduced to eligible Christian boys with squeaky clean backgrounds and traditional values. Her father was from a time when a girl got married by twenty or died alone. But he was old-fashioned, not manipulative.

  “You’re just twisting things up,” she said, not quite sure who she was trying to convince. “My dad wants me to be happy and successful. That’s normal.”

  Jason leaned back and brought his knees up so his elbows rested loosely on them. The movement spread his legs and her gaze was inexorably drawn to the little valley between. She was automatically reminded of how recently her mouth was wrapped around him in the most intimate contact that she’d ever had with a man.

  She looked away as a hard shiver moved down her spine.

  If he noticed the reaction, he didn’t let on. And once again, she wished that she could see his face.

  “Would you like to know how your father responded to that first video we sent him?”

  Darkness swirled in his voice. His gaze was trained on her with all of the intent of a scientist observing slides under a microscope. It was a cold and analytical regard that made her feel like a lab specimen that he was hoping would do something interesting.

  Fear rose again and she tried to tamp it down. “I want you to stop talking to me.”

  “It’s way too late for that, baby.” There was something that she could almost mistake for compassion in his voice, but it didn’t match the cold look in his eyes. “Your father—the honest and hard-working senator—didn’t respond at all. There’s been no frantic calls to the police and no missing person’s report. Strange, don’t you think?”

  Sophia was already shaking her head. “You’re lying to me.”

  “Why would I?” He spread his arms wide, the gesture encompassing the empty room and the handcuffs around her ankles. “There’s no need. You’re the one helping me get what I want. I’m just returning the favor.”

  She pushed away the plate of food and tried to turn her back on him. The handcuffs stopped her short so she couldn’t do much more than turn her head away. “Please, just leave me alone.”

  “You know, I almost forgot the one thing your father did do after we sent our message.”

  Terrible curiosity overwhelmed her. She knew it was a bad idea, asked him anyway, hating herself for giving him the satisfaction. “What’s that?”

  “Your father announced that he’s running for president. He stood up on some stage with your stepmother, looking all pompous and grinning. That was a couple of hours after we sent him that video of you crying and begging us not to kill you.”

  The shock of it ran through her like a physical pain. Jason just watched her impassively as the knowledge slowly seeped through her consciousness. He had to be lying, even if she couldn’t think of a good reason for it.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You want proof?”

  Before she could answer, he pulled a cell phone out of his back pocket and held it up. After a few swipes of his thumb, her father’s voice boomed out over the tinny speaker.

  “…very proud to announce my candidacy for president. Our country is in serious trouble and I can promise the American people that strong family values are the only way forward.”

  Jason held up the phone so she could see her father on the screen. He was behind a podium decorated with the American flag while Magda stood beside him dressed like an update of Jackie O. All they needed were fireworks in the shape of a bald eagle going off in the background to complete the scene.

  There had to be a reason for this. Her father loved her, she knew he did. Yeah, he cared a little more than he probably should have about keeping her innocent and marrying her off to somebody with similar values to him. And yes, his political career was incredibly important to him. But…

  But what? A frantic father whose daughter had just been kidnapped shouldn’t be smiling up on a stage in front of a crowd of people like nothing was wrong. He should be screaming for the police, the FBI, the National Guard—anything to get her back.

  Maybe he didn’t really know that she was missing. It could all be just a game that Jason was playing with her.

  But her father had to have figured out she was gone the moment he returned home. None of it made any sense.

  “This is a trick.” The video continued to play as her father rambled on about strengthening the military and defunding abortion clinics. Sophia forced herself to ignore it. “Maybe you packed up all my clothes and left a note so it looked like I left on my own. Maybe he doesn’t even know that I’ve been kidnapped.”

  “Maybe.” His voice was speculative. “But I think you know the real truth.”

  “No.”

  “Your father is not a nice man.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I can prove it to you.” His finger moved across the screen as he fast-forwarded through the video. He found the part he was looking for and held up the phone again.

  It was a YouTube video. Her father still stood behind the podium but he was quiet and looking out into the audience. For a moment, she thought the video was paused but then she heard another male voice coming from off-screen.

  “Rob Dawson from Nightline News. Where is your daughter today, Senator Reynolds? She’s been present for much of your senatorial campaign, and we see your lovely wife there, but your daughter is noticeably absent.”

  Sophia watched, heart beating hard, as her father took a glass of water off of the podium and carefully sipped it. He swallowed slowly before speaking.

  “Unfortunately, Sophia is home sick with the flu. But I can promise you that my family will stand behind me one hundred percent during this campaign.”

  There it was. The upload date of the video was clearly visible in the corner of the screen. Her own father had decided that his run for president was more important than getting her back in one piece.

  A hot track of tears slid down her face. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.”

  Jason was quiet for a minute.

  She realized he might not know why he was doing any of this either or what he was hoping to gain from having this conversation with her. He seemed to be probing her for some truth, but unsure of what he wanted to find.

  Sophia rubbed away the tears with the back of one hand. “Are you going to tell me what it is you want? What’s the point of all this?”

  Jason put the phone in his pocket and rose to his feet. She thought he was going to walk away without answering, but he just stood there and stared down at her. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he considered whether he was going to respond.

  “Your father is wrapped up in terrible things. He’s going to give me the proof of his involvement and help me put a stop to it. If he refuses, something very bad is going to happen to you.”

  Something bad had already happened to her. She didn’t bother to say that since she knew his response would just be to tell her in graphic detail how much worse things could get.

  “What if you’re wrong?” she whispered. “What if he can’t give you what you want?”

  “I’m not wrong. So you don’t mean can’t, you mean won’t.” The certainty in his gaze pierced her. She realized she was dealing with a zealot. There was nothing she could say that would make him believe that he could be wrong. “And if he won’t give me what I want, then you’ll be here to help me convince him.”

  She bowed her head to the floor as the sound of his footsteps on the stone echoed, then slowly grew fainter. She hated herself forever, even for a moment, thinking of him as anything more than her enemy.

  He was just manipulating her. He wanted her to believe things about her father that couldn’t possibly be true. There had to be an explanation for why her father would announce he was running for president on the same day that she went missing.

  Her fa
ther was a politician. The public face was never the same as the private one. Maybe they had threatened to kill her if he involved the authorities. Maybe the FBI was involved and keeping it quiet while they investigated.

  As soon as Sophia was sure that she was alone, she reached for the smart watch still hidden in her sock. The thing was off-brand from China but it still had GPS tracking.

  It was a long shot, but once she turned it back on, maybe someone would be able to locate the signal. It was her best chance of being found.

  That asshole in the monster mask hadn’t tied her arms back up because he felt sorry for her. But he was no better than the monster he accused her father of being. She was innocent of any crime, but he still planned to make her suffer. And that made him the worst sort of monster, one too blind to see himself for what he was.

  If he thought she was just a spineless victim only able to sit there in the dark and cry, then he was dead wrong.

  It would be the last mistake that he ever made with her.

  Chapter Nine

  Hunt pulled off the mask and threw it onto the table next to the computer. When he looked up, Chase was watching him.

  “You shouldn’t do that.” Chase’s voice was quiet.

  “Do what?” Hunt asked, feigning ignorance. Pretty sure he knew exactly what was bothering the other man.

  “Talk to her. It’s just going to make things harder.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Hunt said firmly. The computer screen showed video feeds from the senator’s house. They had planted them a few days before taking Sophia. No sign of police in or around the house and no indication that the senator ever called them. He hadn’t lied to her about that. “Everything is under control.”

  “If you say so, then it must be true.” Chase returned to the scrap computer parts scattered across the desk. Knowing him, he was trying to build something that shouldn’t exist outside of a top secret NSA facility.