Chapter 5: Hidden Heir: Chapter 5

My hands won’t stop shaking.

They’ve been trembling violently ever since I locked up the shop after Paul and his goons left. They quivered against the steering wheel as I drove recklessly through the city, taking as many unexpected twists and turns as I could think of until I reached Hannah and collected Tiff. Hannah was alarmed to see me, but I couldn’t stand the thought of my daughter being away from me when those assholes had made it clear they knew about her.

My hands continued to shake and tremble on the drive home and as I fed Tiff some lunch then put her down for her afternoon nap as if this was just a normal Friday.

Standing in the kitchen with the kettle whistling away, my hands still shake. I have no control over them. Curling my fingers, I clench them into fists, but pressure only seems to increase the tremble. Placing them down on the cool counter, the tremor moves up my arms.

Paul was terrifying. My mind reels from everything he told me, from the missing drugs to the money owed. The sourness of his fingers still lingers in my mouth, and I can feel their weight, as if he’s still here trying to claw down my throat and remind me of his threats. My stomach cramps painfully and I double over to puke into the sink. I heave for a few minutes, spitting up nothing but bile and some blood, until my entire body is shaking and soaked in a cold sweat.

What the fuck has Ant gotten himself into?

Rinsing my mouth with water, I pop a few painkillers to combat my tired headache and attempt to make tea.

Ant’s asleep on the couch. I didn’t wake him when I came home because Tiff was my focus. I didn’t want her to see that I was scared, but now I’m by myself, and it’s all I can think of. I wish I had someone to turn to who could help me but there’s no one.

No one but Ant.

Abandoning my tea, I stride into the living room and shut the door firmly, then I pick up the nearest cushion and smack sleeping Ant hard over the head with it. He grunts and jolts, so I attack him again and for a brief moment it feels good just to hurt him.

I’m so angry at him and it’s coming out in a fury.

“Get up!” I hiss. “Get the fuck up!”

“What the, Brooke, what the fuck? Man, I was sleeping!”

“I don’t give a shit!” I launch the cushion at him again as he wipes his face and sluggishly sits up. “You have some fucking explaining to do!”

“What are you talking about?” He looks up at me with those sad, puppy eyes and just like always, it pulls at my heart. “I haven’t done anything. I’ve literally been sleeping since you left.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” I spit out, pacing between him and the coffee table. “You’re sleeping and hiding instead of taking fucking responsibility for your fucking actions. Once again, I’m the one having to fix it!”

“What are you talking⁠—”

“Does the Irish Mafia ring a bell, Ant? Are you sick in the head?” I struggle not to raise my voice and the trembling almost consumes me. “You got into bed with the fucking mafia?”

His pale face turns completely ashen and he stands with unexpected steadiness. “Brooke. How do you know about that?”

“You want to know how I know?” I hastily drag one hand through my hair. “Because the men you stole from, the men you’re fucking hiding from, came to my store today and destroyed the place, Ant. They came there looking for you and threatened me. They wanted to know where you were and when I refused to tell them, one of them put his hand in my mouth and a very large knife to my belly. That was after he shoved me up against the wall and had his hand around my throat and⁠—.”

“Shit!” Ant interrupts and starts to pace around the room. “Did you tell them I’m here? Did you tell them where I am?” Suddenly he’s in front of me, gripping my shoulders tightly. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown, like black holes. He’s scared.

“Didn’t you hear what I just fucking said?” I gasp, recoiling from his grip. “Ant, they hurt me, they threatened me, and all you care⁠—”

“Did you tell them I’m here?” he barks again, shaking me back and forth. “Did you screw me over Brooke?”

“What?” I wrench myself free. “No, I already said I didn’t tell them where you were. I’m hoping you’ll explain to me what the fuck is going on!”

“I have to go. You don’t understand, Brooke. If they find me, the shit they will do to me isn’t something you can stomach.” He moves away, snatching up some of his stray clothes. It seems to have escaped his notice that I was already attacked, and despite the anger that rises, a familiar excuse fills my mind.

It has to be the drugs. He can’t focus on important shit when there’s drugs in his system.

“Ant!” I grab his arm as he passes by me. “Is it true? Did you really steal from them?”

“It’s not what you think,” he says quickly, and hurries off to the kitchen. I follow hot on his heels.

“You’d better tell me the truth, Ant, because they destroyed the shop, they hurt me, and they threatened Tiff! They said you were skimming product off the top and then you stole a shipment. You’d better tell me the fucking truth right now because they want me to fuck some random guys to pay off your debt and I⁠—”

“What?” Ant interrupts me again. He pauses with a can of soup in one hand and a bag in the other, staring at me from across the kitchen. “They want you to do what?”

My blood runs cold and I wrap my arms around myself as I recall those poisonous words being poured into my ear. “One of the men, Paul, was his name. He said he would kill me and sell Tiff. But if I agreed to be sold instead he would leave her alone. He said he would sell me at his auction to fuck some random guys, no time limits, to pay off your debt.”

It doesn’t sound like the words are even coming from my mouth. My voice sounds alien to my own ears. My heart pounds as my entire body trembles. Tears threaten behind my eyes as Ant stares at me with an unreadable look on his face. When he abandons the soup and the bag, I think he’s going to hug me.

I need that hug. I need comfort. I need him to tell me it will be alright and that he has a plan. That he stashed the drugs somewhere and will give them back.

“Brooke,” Ant says as his face melts into a strange smile. “This is… amazing!”

“What?” Suddenly I understand the look on his face. It’s not shock. It’s hope. He’s actually hopeful that me selling my body will get him out of his mess.

He grasps my shoulders, lighter this time, and sags forward. “I can’t believe you would do this for me,” he says softly.

“What makes you think I said yes?” I ask hoarsely. “Ant, do you understand what they are asking me to do? It’s not just some back alley blow job! You owe them seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Small change to men like that, I’m sure, but holy shit! Why can’t you just give the drugs back?”

Ant’s face drops and he steps back. Suddenly, he deflates before my very eyes and when he sits down in the kitchen chair, he resembles a dirty shopping bag, wrinkled and weak. “I can’t do that,” he says. “There’s nothing to give back because I didn’t steal from them. They just think I did because I’m an easy target and they’re dumb fucks. But don’t you see?”

“Ant!” I yell, unable to contain the surge of desperation that rises within me. I wanted him to help me, not so readily agree. “Do you not understand? They want to sell me to sleep with random men, who can, and most certainly will do anything they want to me!”

“And?” Ant fixes me with a cold look. “It’s just sex, Brooke. It’s so fucking easy and you’ll walk away just fine. But me? What have I got to save myself, huh? I didn’t steal from them but they won’t care, they won’t believe me. They’ll torture and kill me, Brooke. Don’t you understand?”

My heart pounds as I recall Paul’s offer of cutting me open and carving me up until he had his pound of flesh. It dawns on me that’s what they will most likely do to my brother.

He looks up at me, his eyes swimming with tears. It’s a familiar routine, and each time I tell myself I won’t fall for it, he reaches right for my heart.

“It would be so amazing if you do this for me. It’s our chance, you see that right? I mean, it’s just sex, and once you pay off the debt then we’re free. All three of us. Tiffany will be safe. You and me, we’ll be safe. And then we can really start fresh. No debt. No bastards hunting us down. No drugs.” He sniffles. “You have an opportunity to save me, Brooke, and I…”

His voice closes up, his head drops down to his chest, and my heart breaks. There’s nothing I want more than a normal life. I want to be safe with my daughter and have my brother back, the one who is healthy and drug free. That can’t happen while the Irish mafia is accusing him of stealing something he can’t return because he doesn’t have it.

What choice do I have? I have to protect my family.

“Okay,” I say hoarsely. “Besides, I already agreed. I don’t think they’d let me back out. But you have to protect Tiff while I’m away, okay?”

I hug Ant tightly and he clings to me like a child.

“I will,” he weeps. “I will. Thank you, Brooke, thank you. You’re saving me, thank you.”

It’s just sex.

I keep repeating that to myself while waiting at my shop for the car Paul sent. I’m forced into a skimpy silver dress that shoves my tits up to my chin and leaves half my ass exposed, a gift he dropped off earlier at the flower shop for me. I drag a brush through my hair and slap on some lipstick then I’m blindfolded once I enter the car.

As soon as it comes to a stop, strong hands painfully grip my upper arms and I stumble, barefoot, across rough ground.

My ears become my eyes. Doors creak as low masculine voices murmur around me. I’m hauled at a rapid pace and soon the rough ground changes to smooth tile flooring. When I’m pulled to a stop, a touch at my ankle makes me jump, but it’s just someone placing high heels onto my feet with straps that pinch the bruise on my ankle left by the box the other day.

I’m forced to walk again. It’s hard to tell where I am, or which way is the way out after so many twists and turns. By the time we stop, I’m dizzy and far too hot. My head throbs and my heart pounds painfully in my chest.

How am I going to get through this? I haven’t slept and all I can think about is Tiff. If I fail to do this, my daughter suffers and Ant dies. I have no choice.

It’s just sex.

I can lay back and close my eyes.

It’s just sex.

Fuck.

Suddenly, the blindfold is ripped off and I’m under a light so bright that I’m forced to squint.

“You’re dessert,” says one of the men roughly holding my arm. He forces me forward and I open my eyes to see a man reclining on a black sofa in front of me. He’s older and portly, a thick cigar hanging from lips hidden beneath a bushy mustache. His shirt strains for dear life over his belly, and thick glasses balance on the end of his long, pointy nose.

“Enjoy,” says the man who removed my blindfold then abruptly leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends a cold chill down my spine as sweat breaks out all over my body.

“When they told me I would be entertained tonight,” the man wheezes, coughing out clouds of smoke, “I did not expect something so beautiful.”

I have no idea what to do. I was given no instruction other than an order to obey the moment I was dragged out of the car.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to speak or how I’m expected to “entertain” him and the uncertainty drives me crazy. I force a smile through the fear. I clasp my hands together in front of my body and the man lifts one chubby hand.

“Show me,” he barks, motioning with his hands to turn.

I obey.

What I see behind me as I turn around makes my blood turn to ice. The surrounding walls of the small room are filled with floor-to-ceiling metal racks filled with sex toys. I’ve never been a prude and have always enjoyed spice in the bedroom, but there’s one thing that always occurs in my bedroom that will never happen here.

Trust.

As I take in each whip, flogger, vibrator, clamp and blade that seems to mock me, my heart slams wildly in my chest. It causes the tremble in my hands to return and I tighten my hands into fists. By the time I turn back to the man, my smile has faltered. He’s on his feet and standing in front of me. One breath and the stink of his cigar clogs my lungs.

“I—” As soon as I try to speak, he slaps me across the face with strength I didn’t expect. Clearly his rotund shape is hiding impressive muscle. My teeth slice into my cheek and blood pulses across my tongue as my ears ring. Somehow, I manage to stay upright in the ridiculously high heels they forced me to wear.

“I don’t want you to speak,” the man says with a growl. He lifts one hand and grabs me by the hair, pulling sharply as he jerks me down so violently that I fall to my knees with a whimper of pain. “But” he continues, “I do want you to scream.”

Suddenly the mantra of it’s just sex melts away in my mind. This isn’t just sex, and it becomes abundantly clear as he uses the grip on my hair to force my face into his crotch.

“Get familiar, my dear,” he chuckles above me while I struggle to hear him over the wild thunder of blood rushing in my ears. “You will worship me by the end of the night.”

His hips thrust into my face with force as he releases my hair. The impact sends me sprawling backward with a soft grunt. I lay there, staring up at him as he laughs and wheezes over his cigar, and pure terror grips me.

Even my determination to do this and keep my family safe isn’t enough to stamp out the terror when he looms over me and grabs me by the front of my dress. When he hauls me upward, I pray the fabric holds because it’s the only defense I have between me and him. Face to face, he grabs me by the throat and shoves me up against the nearest wall where the rack of toys bites into my skin and presses painfully against my ribs.

Then sudden pain, sharp and loud, flares against my shoulder and I can’t hold in the scream that tears from me. He’s putting his cigar out on my shoulder. The pain is unlike anything I’ve felt before, and the putrid smell of burning flesh fills the air. My stomach rolls and I fight against his grip but it’s useless.

“Yes,” he hisses behind me. “The first scream of many. Do you know how erotic it is to see some stuck-up bitch down on her knees, crawling over pins just for a taste of your cock? They tell me that you are desperate, that you will do anything to protect what is precious to you, and I intend to test that, my dear.”

The poison he drips over such a soft word makes me sick. My knees knock together and in a blink, tears prick the corner of my eyes.

“Please,” I gasp, unsure what I’m even asking for.

“Please?” He chuckles. “Yes, beg exactly like that. I’m going to see how many dildos I can stuff inside you until you break, see how many lashes you take until you’re declaring your love for me, how many liters you can hold until you’re⁠—”

“No!”

I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the sick realization that I can’t stomach this. Not for anyone. This isn’t my kind of survival. As he speaks, I grab the nearest thing on the wall which happens to be a paddle embedded with sharp, metal studs. I lash out and it slams into the side of his face. He flies backward with a scream of pain, but since I don’t release my grip on the paddle, he’s able to rip himself free from the studs.

They claw down his face, turning his cheek and chin to bloody ribbons and I dare not think what it would have done to my body in his hands. He screams and screams as blood pours like a waterfall from his face. The ground shakes as he falls to his knees.

“You bitch!” he shouts, glaring at me with one eye.

I hesitate for half a second before lifting the paddle and slamming it into his face once more. This time when it embeds, I leave it there.

Then I kick off my heels and sprint from the room.