My Billionaire Captor Read online

  Elijah moves to a desk on the far side and presses a button under it and a panel door, much like the hidden one in Marcus’s Seattle office slides open. He motions for me to enter and I hesitate and back up a few steps. I don’t trust anyone anymore and going into what looks like a real actual panic room isn’t appealing at all. I shake my head and pull my robe around me tighter wrapping my arms around my waist.

  This frustrates them to no end but I don’t fucking care. “Imani! Please, if you can trust anyone ever, it’s us right now.” Elijah says honestly panicked and Mr. Black isn’t looking much calmer. I’m still so groggy, it couldn’t have been long ago that I went to sleep, what the hell is going on with Marcus? “Ms. Jefferson, there are closed circuit screens in the panic room you can observe Mr. Castillo and see what he’s doing, please we need to get you in there.” So it is a panic room, I thought so.

  I begin to hear banging coming from down the hall and Marcus’s voice again. Something about his tone, the all-around vibe of him is off, it was his voice but sounded nothing like him and a small flame of fear ignites in my belly, just enough to move me into the panic room. Utter relief covers both men’s faces, they press a red button inside and the panel slides silently shut. I take a deep breath and hold it, closing my eyes I pray to God I’ve done the right thing.

  Blowing out the breath I turn to see Mr. Black has taken a seat behind a panel of screens showing every room in the house, exactly like the one in Seattle. Elijah reaches for me but I’m still involuntarily wary and I move just out of his reach so he points to a recliner type chair and I take a seat. The chair is leather and my gown is silk, I shudder from the contact when I sit and Elijah instantly goes looking for something to cover me with. There is a row of cupboards along the wall, all labeled perfectly.

  Elijah retrieves an ultra-soft blanket from the one that says Linens. He doesn’t just hand it to me either, he opens it up and drapes it across my lap making sure it covers my feet. “Thank you.” I try out my abrasive thick whisper again. I sound terrible, maybe I should stick to texting for a little longer? “You’re welcome.” He says. I text. Now please tell me what’s going on, why is he yelling, why am I in here? And why do you have a panic room! I pass the phone to Elijah , he reads, passes it back to me and sits on a stool next to me.

  “Imani, this is going to be hard to hear but the Marcus you know, well I don’t know how to say this but to just say it. He’s not the real Marcus Castillo, not the one any of us know at least. He’s a dangerous man, lethal if you will, and prone to extreme outbursts of fury, like tonight and yesterday with you, I’m afraid. We all hoped he would be different with you, that his evil side wouldn’t surface anymore because of you. God we prayed the change in his personality was permanent, it would have made our lives so much easier. And everything was working out fine until yesterday when all of us, Marcus included, realized you weren’t any safer than the rest of us. That’s why he made the new rules about sticking close to you when you were together, and to hide you if he showed the slightest bit of mood change.”

  I text. What happened tonight to set him off? Has he always been this way or just recently? “I don’t know Imani, I was working with him in his office and he just started getting more and more agitated until he wasn't making any sense at all. The more I tried to reason with him the angrier he became. When he started breaking things I paged Mr. Black, who was guarding your door and told him to get you ready to move.

  This is bizarre. I feel like the president of the united states has been taken from bed after a terrorist threat and rushed to a nuclear bomb safe room in the white house. This house even looks like the fucking white house! This is insane, Marcus needs help not abandonment, his tumor must be causing more confusion, more mood swings. I need a computer, I need access to his medical files and I really need a neurological specialist. Damn I wish we were at home in Seattle!

  “He told me you would want this.” Elijah hands me my iPad, I haven't seen this in a couple weeks. “And these.” Elijah passes me a stack of files with a clear envelope on top containing two SD cards. I can’t believe this, even when he’s not here, screaming in a fit of rage somewhere down the hall, he is reading my mind and giving me what I need, amazing. “Those are his medical files, all of the physicians he has seen and their diagnosis on one SD and the other he made me swear to make it very clear to you that you’re not to look at it unless…well unless he dies.” DOES NOT COMPUTE flashes before my eyes.

  I can’t believe Elijah just spoke those words, did he really just say that? Look at it if he DIES? This is so fucked up, I’m not going to sit around here and wait for Marcus to die. We need help. I’ll be fucking damned to hell if I stand by and watch while he slips away into oblivion as some psychopath that everyone is scared shitless of.

  My Marcus is the real Marcus and I know it, I don’t care what anyone else says, I don’t care who he used to be. The kind loving, generous, tender man that I know is Marcus, not this…this monster. I’m going to prove it and find someone to cure him, take that shit out of his head and bring him back to me. Nobody’s dying on my watch…especially Marcus!

  After the shock wears off, well the crippling shock at least. I don’t know that I’ll ever get over the shock of receiving a death SD card. I stand and let the blanket slide to the floor to my feet. I step over it to Mr. Black’s side and bend over to peer at the screen he is watching, Marcus in a rage. He’s in the bedroom we just came from pacing at the end of the bed, duvet and pillows thrown on the floor, no surface left undisturbed, lamps a clock and candles scattered everywhere.

  It’s as if he were looking for me, didn’t find me and destroyed the room. I text Mr. Black. Has he done this to every room? Or just this one? After shoving the phone under Saint’s nose he looks at it briefly and back to the screen where Marcus continues to pace like a caged tiger. “He broke all the glass behind the bar in his other office, that’s when we came to get you, so no, not just this room.” He answers me in a flat tone and an even flatter effect. I need to get out there.

  That lights a spark under his ass. “No way in hell are you going through that door, I’ve only failed him once in 20 years and I’m not about to do it again!” Ok, so he’s going to be difficult about this, he must be forgetting I am in a relationship with an incredibly difficult man, I know how to deal with difficult! I’ll give him a few minutes of false reassurance while I look over Marcus’s medical records and then I’m bolting.

  Marcus needs me, whichever one is out there, I feel like he’s searching for me. I should be terrified after what happened yesterday but all I can focus on is the man I love, in turmoil, held hostage in a mind that’s playing tricks on him, alone. Maybe it’s the girlfriend in me or maybe it’s the nurse but something has me losing my mind right alongside Marcus and I need to get to him before he hurts himself. Even if it risks my own life. I sit back down, one eye on the screen and the other on one of Marcus’s files.

  Fuck, it’s hard to concentrate on two things at once but these stupid idiots have left him out there alone and if I don’t get to him and talk him down he’s going to hurt himself. Who knows what that tumor is doing inside of him. If it’s causing him to black out, strangle his girlfriend and turn into a bull charging through his own home destroying everything in his path, he could be at risk for any number of complications.

  I skim his file, Pituitary Adenoma jumps off the page, my brain scrambles to remember just what kind of tumor that is. Ok, wait that’s not an inoperable tumor is it? No, I’m pretty sure those can be removed without problems, if it’s large enough though it can cause blindness and about a billion other serious side effects. Why didn’t I look into this more when he was my patient? I was too busy falling in love with him. Damn, damn, damn. I glance up to see Marcus weaving back down the hall away from us holding his hands over his ears, he’s in pain.

  Ok, I’ve gotta go, one more look at this file and I’m punching that red button on the wall and running like hell. One quick gl
ance down and circled in red, there it is…massive vascular entanglement. I’m going to vomit. Jumping up I throw the files and SD cards on the floor fling the blanket off and promptly puke my guts up in a nearby trash can, God I hate throwing up.

  This is it though, the guys are so taken by surprise with my puking that they are frozen momentarily. I run for the door, jam my hand on that button, slide through and run for the desk button to close it behind me. Mr. Black and Elijah watch me go in disbelief. I feel along the edge of the desk, press the button and whirl around in time to see it slide shut, two pissed off men clambering out of their seats and coming toward me.

  I lock wild eyes with Elijah for a microsecond and then I’m scurrying, hampered by my bare but bandaged feet that are really starting to hurt now. I hear him, he’s not screaming anymore though, more like moaning. I can’t believe Saint and Elijah haven’t caught up to me yet. Tip toeing down the stairs I follow the sound of Marcus’s muffled voice into, well I’m not exactly sure where I am. I think it’s a sort of a living room, sunroom combination. A semicircle of windows line the left with chairs and ottomans following the same pattern, if the sun were up you’d feel like you were sitting outside. To my right is a couch and an unlit fireplace.

  Marcus is sitting with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. I realize suddenly that I have no plan. I wanted to come out here so bad but now what? I go for balls out and pad across the thick plush carpet in his direction. I have no way to communicate with him, my phone is back in the panic room but he hears me and raises his head staring straight forward, not turning in my direction. “I hear you, whoever you are. Leave me.” I freeze, leave me? What? He waits and I stay put, my heavy breathing the only sound now. “I said GO!” he yells and startles me so much I jump back and clench my hands into fists.

  Frantically I shake my arms up and down to rid myself of the adrenaline rush that he’s given me, shit! I have no idea what to do now but stand my ground, so I do, and he’s aware of me but still he doesn’t turn. The room is really dark but he surely could see me if he would only look. Marcus hates the dark, he would never sit here without a light on. My Marcus wouldn’t anyway. I’m still not sure what side of the mood pendulum we are swinging on right now.

  I decide to try a whisper. I’ve made some successful yet awful attempts at speaking today, maybe it will work. “Marcus?” Yep, scratchy but audible. “I said to fucking leave me!” he roars and I walk backward into an archway at the entrance of this room. Ok, I’m sure now, it’s evil Marcus that’s in control now.

  Just then Mr. Black and Elijah creep around the corner toward me and I give them a “don’t you dare come near me look” and shake my head back and forth fiercely. I’m not going anywhere until this is figured out. They stop abruptly and glance in Marcuss direction and back at me. Elijah whispers “Imani please…” he looks at me pleading with his eyes but I repeat “no” with a head shake and he sighs heavily, too heavily.

  Marcus knows there is more than one of us now and he is on his feet taking long purposeful strides in our direction. Elijah yanks me behind him and holds me locked there with his hands on my hips, slowly backing us out. Mr. Black steps between Elijah and Marcus just in time to be on the receiving end of a quarterback tackle. My God this isn’t going to be good.

  Chapter 13

  Several things happen simultaneously and quickly, trapped in a tornado I’m temporarily helpless to do anything but watch the events unfold. Elijah has me around the waste, off my feet, moving through the foyer. I can’t scream but I’m giving it my best loud whisper protesting being separated from Marcus yet again. I twist in his arms, kicking and wiggling making it difficult for him to keep ahold of me. I turn enough to see Marcus and Saint struggling on the floor across the open empty space. Something isn’t right but I can’t put my finger on it, no matter I’ve suddenly got something more important to focus on.

  Marcus’s fist makes contact with Saint’s face and he goes down. Hard. Oh God! Marcus is on his knees gasping for breath squeezing his eyes closed tight. I start to slap at Elijah ’s bicep urgently, I’ve twisted enough that he’s losing his now sideways grip on me. He listens to my unspoken freak out and stops walking to turn and see what I’m seeing. Saint isn’t moving at all and Marcus is sitting now and scooting away from him until he reaches the wall and presses his back against it as if he couldn’t get far enough away.

  He's staring straight ahead and it hits me, he can’t see. Fight or flight kicks in and I bite Elijah causing him to drop me instantly. I run across the marble floor of the foyer and without thinking drop to my knees and take Marcus’s head in my hands turning him so we are face to face, his hot breath puffing the hair around my face back with every exhalation.

  I see no recognition, no nothing, just beautiful bright green eyes staring forward but not back at me. “Imani?” he murmurs and every cell in my body screams “thank god and everything holy he’s back!” Using every bit of effort I’ve got I speak with my sandpaper voice. “Yes baby it’s me, oh God, God…I’m so glad you’re back!” “I…I can’t see.” He grabs onto my wrists on either side of his face and his empty eyes dart back and forth searching for me but finding nothing.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close. It feels like a lifetime has passed since he kissed me goodnight, since our shaky world finally came crashing down around us. I can’t breathe he has me so tight. I’ll suffocate if it comforts him, anything to help him. I feel the air behind me rustling around as Elijah tends to Mr. Black who is now moaning softly while he comes around. I’m relieved he’s not dead, that was a serious punch, and even more unbelievable is that Marcus threw it so accurately without his sight.

  “Let’s get you up.” I croak and he loosens his grip on me slightly while we stand he holds my shoulders for guidance. “I can walk, and I know the way just hold my arm.” Ok, it feels strange that he’s not more disoriented without his sight, slightly wobbly but just as he says, he knows his way. I look back at Elijah and he’s got Mr. Black on his feet with his arm draped over his shoulders. “Imani!” he calls and I ignore him, he has his hands full, we’ll be ok for a few minutes, I think. “Imani you shouldn’t….” and that’s the last thing I hear from Elijah , we have started climbing the stairs.

  I’m on his outside and he holds the banister but he’s still pretty steady. “My aunt Angelica used to have us wear a blindfold and maneuver around her house. I’ve memorized every home I’ve ever owned, every space I’ve spent time in.” He’s reading my mind again, well that part still works. I’m quiet as we approach the bedroom door. “My head hurts like hell and I’m so tired.” he admits. “Bed.” I tell him while I guide him around the mess he just finished making 20 minutes ago. “Sit.” He turns backing his legs up against the bed and sits gracefully on the edge. “I’m the boss remember?” that deep tone in his voice stirs something inside me.

  I have a desperate desire to be as close as possible to him and obey any rule he puts before me. I press my lips softly on his and I whisper against them “I know.” He reaches for me, sliding his hands inside my robe and around to my ass he pulls me between his legs. “I need you Imani, now.” Click...the world just shut off and there is no one or anything around us that matters more than us being together right now. I forget he can’t see, his head aches and he’s tired.

  I forget my voice is gone, my neck is bruised with marks from his hands and my feet are bandaged from walking through glass. That urgency I felt in the dining room back in Seattle while I sat on the table in front of Marcus about to give him everything, fills me again. Too many barriers separate us, I need him plastered against me, naked. I need to feel the thickness of his cock against my belly, and inside of me, now.

  I grab his hair and our mouths connect, hot heavy breaths escape both of us, he slides his hands along my arms and removes them from his neck. “Slow...I want you slow Imani, I want to take my time acquainting myself with your body with no sight. I need to see you with my hands.” O
h, who could say no to that?

  Smoothing his seeing hands along the silk of my nightgown he places one big hand on the small of my back pulling me close again but I keep my hands at my sides. I remember this game, it’s hard not to touch but in the end it’s oh so rewarding. “Mmmmm, fuck baby you smell so good.” he murmurs into my neck, I love the dirty talk, he’s always so formal when he speaks but when we are alone like this another dialog begins.

  He continues his perusing of my body until both hands reach my shoulders and he gently pushes off my robe. It pools at my feet and a shiver runs up my spine. He pulls me onto the bed with him, spreading me out gently on my back, he kneels between my legs. “Arm’s up.” Done. “Keep them there until I say otherwise.” Another command softer this time though, not as stern. I close my eyes too, we may as well both be on the same plain here and looking at him is stirring that electrical storm in my belly that craves his skin on mine.

  If we’re going to go slow I need less stimulation and right now sight is the only one I’m in control of. His hands glide from my ankles to my knees with a tenderness I’ve not experienced with him before. He wasn’t kidding about going slow, this was going to be a leisurely pleasure filled torture. Heat creeps through my body everywhere his fingers trail. I’m panting with need, God please just touch me, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to have my period over than I am right this second.

  I’m in such a state of ecstasy that I’d of thrown caution to the wind just this once anyway. An ache nearing pain builds between my legs as he hooks his hands behind my knees to open them wide. He continues to move at a measured pace, rhythmically tracing circles with his thumbs over every inch of me between my knees and thighs. “It’s like I always thought it would be, being blind I mean. No temptation to look, forced to feel my way around. You’re soft.” he kisses the inside of my thigh “Smooth.” and then the other. God help me I’m never going to make it through this. “Warm.” Another kiss lands directly above ground zero, I arch my back into him and clutch the sheets above my head as he softly kisses me there where my panties have been soaked since he said “I need you.”