Page 37 of Shane: His to Possess
Somewhere else, she could be anyone but Mia Kasilli, daughter of a Russian mafia Avtoritet, the object of a sick lust from the grandson of the Italian don and the focal point of an Irish captain’s obsession. The prospect of escaping the first two filled her with elation, but she couldn’t pretend her heart didn’t rebel at the idea of leaving Shane.
Gritting her teeth and summoning the fighting strength that had kept her enduring all those years under Aldo’s perversions, she scooped up her backpack, shoved in the few toiletries in the bathroom, and left the motel room. Her key was on the nightstand, and the maid would find it in the morning—assuming they actually had a maid. She hadn’t seen one in two days.
The bus station was less than two blocks away, and she huddled into her hooded sweatshirt, clasped her backpack, and darted down the street. Rain fell from the gray sky, which perfectly matched her sour mood. Somewhere sunny would be a nice change, and she hoped she could make it in time to catch the bus to Atlanta. It would still take two days to reach the Georgian capital, but she had nothing but time to kill.
The bus station was in sight when a chill ran down her spine. Mia turned her head to the side, mouth opening in an ‘O’ of surprise when she saw Wallace step out from the mouth of an alley. Her heart hammered in her ears, and she stared at him for a second before sliding her gaze to the bus station. Could she run for it? Would she be able to outrun his long legs?
“Don’t think about it, whore.”
Her spine stiffened. “Fuck you. You don’t like me and don’t think I’m good for Shane, so just let me go. Pretend you didn’t see me.”
He laughed. “That wouldn’t do you a damn bit of good. I’d just have to chase you farther.”
She scowled. “He has to give up some time.” Though she wasn’t sure she actually believed those words, even as she uttered them.
Wallace wagged his cell phone at her. “Not with that transmitter in your arm.”
Mia gasped. “What?”
He lifted a shoulder. “You’ve been tagged, and now you’re getting bagged.”
Almost unconsciously, she rubbed the spot where Shane had injected her without her permission that morning more than a week ago, under the illusion of giving her Depo-Provera. Her eyes narrowed and her lips clamped shut. Instinct urged her to run, and she spun on the ball of her foot, prepared to launch herself into the foot traffic and dig the damn thing out later.
Twin points of pain hit her in the back, and she stiffened a millisecond before electrical voltage coursed through her. Mia’s body jerked under the effects of the taser, and she collapsed to the wet pavement when he finally stopped shocking her. Her vision was blurred, and she found it impossible to speak as Wallace tucked away the phone and bent to lift her casually.
The world spun and she observed his back a second later as he dropped her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Mia tried to fight, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She flapped limply.
He laughed, clearly enjoying her distress. “I hit you with enough to bring down a crackhead three times your size and blasted on PCP. You aren’t doing anything for a while. I thought about accidentally overdoing the voltage and solving the problem, but I didn’t want to deny the boss his fun.”
“Fun?” she croaked, barely able to form the word.
Another cold chuckle abraded her ears. “He told me to lock you up. I’ve seen what he does to people in the cage. You’re in for a real treat. Maybe your dead body dropped at Peretti’s doorstep will be enough to bring this foolishness to an end.”
Mia shuddered, unsure if it was a remnant from the tasing or fear that sparked the motion. She couldn’t really believe Shane planned to torture or kill her after he’d been so gentle with her the past few days before she’d run away.
Then again, she had fled when he was bleeding and vulnerable. Shane wasn’t exactly the poster child for letting go of grudges, and he would feel aggrieved. Another shiver wracked her body, and this one was purely from dread at what methods he would use to satisfy his need for revenge if he felt ill-treated. And how could he not feel wronged when he was unlikely to consider the situation from her viewpoint?
* * *
The cage wasn’t quite what she had pictured. In her mind’s eye, as she’d lain in the trunk of Wallace’s car trying to regain control of her body and calm her fears, her mind had conjured something the size of a dog kennel. In reality, it was a small cell in the basement of Shane’s estate.
Not that it was a huge step up from a dog kennel. There was a commode with no lid, but not even a meager cot or blanket. Mia had regained some nerve function, so when Wallace casually dropped her onto the cement floor outside the cell while he fumbled with the keys, she managed to get to her feet before he subdued her again.
“None of that, bitch.” He forced her back to the floor before lifting and tossing her onto the concrete inside the cell.
Mia landed hard and bit her tongue. Blood flooded her mouth, but she didn’t cry out. Instead, she dabbed her tongue on the sleeve of her hoodie and watched Wallace warily. He stood against the outside of the cell for a long moment, staring at her with a peculiar expression. It wasn’t hunger—at least not the sexual kind—but he clearly wanted something from her.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than gawk at me?” The words came out a bit thick, due to her tongue still bleeding, and the sweatshirt fleece in her mouth.
He gave her a half-smile. “Oh, yeah. The boss will be recovering for a couple of days, so I’m just deciding what I’d like to do to you first.”
She glared at him, though her heart stuttered. “You won’t touch me. Shane wouldn’t like it.”
He laughed. “Shane doesn’t give a shit what happens to you now, slut, and you wouldn’t be the first guest of the cage to get worked over by the grunts before the boss finishes you off.”
Mia curled into herself, back pressed against the wall, as she watched Wallace. Her stomach curled with dread as he went to a large cabinet. The angle wasn’t good enough for her to see everything within, but she saw enough implements of torture to send an icy trickle of sweat down her spine.
He returned a few minutes later holding something composed of metal and leather. She eyed it, struggling not to betray her fear at the sight of metal bars, chain links, and leather cuffs.