Psychiatrist's Puppet (Loftry University Playthings 3)

Chapter 17

Andrew

I watchthe dots on my screen. They don’t move. They haven’t moved in a while. I know I’m torturing myself, but I can’t draw my eyes away. I just know the moment I look somewhere else that they’ll be gone. A loud pounding on my door is the only thing that manages to drag me away. Looking over, I see Justin, head of security, busting through. Behind him, Grigori and Sergei are hot on his heels.

“We need to go. Now.” Grigori’s face is red from exertion, as if he ran all the way here. I know that’s not possible, but why else would he be in such a condition? They turn to leave, and I sit there, trying to understand what’s happening. “Did you not hear me? Now! It’s Chastity.”

At the sound of her name, I leap out of my seat, pocketing my phone. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” My voice is high-pitched, squeaky even. I hate how out of control I sound. Anxiety grips my heart as I follow them out. Neither of them says a word. Perhaps we don’t have time. That does nothing to calm my heart.

I jump into the backseat of Grigori’s Hummer as Sergei takes the front. “What is this all about? Is she okay?”

Grigori nods at Sergei, who leans around to hand me a phone. On his screen is a picture of Chastity, naked, bruises staining both of her cheeks with smatterings on her arms and stomach. Beneath is a short message detailing her immediate auction. “That son of a bitch! I should have stopped her. Said something, done something!”

“Now is not the time. We catch this asshole, and you can let it all out on him then. But we need to catch him before he brings Chastity up for auction.”

“You have bitch trackers, yes? You put in her, yes?”

I look up and catch Grigori’s gaze in the rearview mirror. The concern I see flashing there is not a good sign. “Four. I put four in her.”

“Thank God,” Grigori sighs under his breath. “Give Sergei your phone. He’ll track them much faster than you.” Leaning over, he tosses his own phone to him. “Check Chelsea too. I need to know she’s safe.”

“Da.” Squinting down at both phones, Sergei and Grigori exchange a flurry of Russian.

I have no clue what they’re saying, but the relief coming off of Grigori is near palpable. Chelsea, at least, is safe.

“We have a location. Right now, none of the dots are moving. He’s either not removed the jewelry, or they’re all still together for the moment.”

“Dots move.”

“All of them?”

“Four. Five stay behind.”

Grigori flashes me a smile in the review before looking back on the road. “That’s why I always say trackers.”

Leaning back in the seat, I rub the bridge of my nose, grateful I didn’t listen to my inner logic on that one. Right now, these trackers may be the only thing saving her life. I just hope we get there in time before he does too much damage to her. The road stretches out before us with no end in sight.

Sergei and Grigori keep talking, but I shove it out of my brain. It’s not just because I don’t understand them. Even if they were speaking English, I’d have nothing to contribute, nothing to help. All I can do is sit back and let them do the work. The only time I take notice is when the speaking raises to a frantic pitch. Something must be happening.

The car jerks over to the side, nearly throwing me across. Scrambling back up, I buckle my seatbelt and grip the strap, watching as they come alongside William’s car. I want to yell out for them to be careful of Chastity, but I worry any distraction will cause them to do something wrong and kill her. That’s the last thing I want.

With a swift jerk, they slam into the side. The impact is jarring. My teeth collide, sending shards of pain ricocheting through my skull. Grigori and Sergei seem unperturbed, but that’s most likely because they’re the ones in charge of the motion. They can brace for it. I, unfortunately, am here for the ride.

Looking over, I see Chastity in the backseat, her body limp and lifeless. Fear seizes my heart, stopping the air in my lungs. From here, I can’t tell if she’s even breathing. Logically, I know he can’t sell her if she’s dead, but logic is not what’s controlling my emotions.

“Hold tight to balls.”

Gritting my teeth, I grab the seatbelt with my left hand and reach up for the handle at the top of the door. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. The last slam feels harder than the other. Thankfully, Grigori drives a tank. We slide over to the left and leave the asphalt. Turning behind, I watch as a car follows in our wake.

“It’s Justin. I told him to follow us so he can take Chastity back. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to take matters into your own hands or not, but I figured I’d make it so you had the choice.”

I nod at Grigori, unable to find my words at the moment. When she left, I expected never to see her again, and here she is fragile and broken, just like when I saw her the first time. My fingers fumble at the buckle, and I rip the belt off of me. Already Sergei is out and walking around to William’s driver-side door. I don’t care what he does to him at that moment; my only focus is on Chastity.

I ease the door open and pull her into my arms, first checking that she’s breathing. Her breaths are shallow but steady. The bruising and swelling look even worse in person than they did in the picture, and rage begins to slowly fill my body.

Handing her off to Justin is almost more than I can take, but I need to see that justice is done. I can’t shove all of it off onto Grigori. “Take her to my room. Have Angela give her a sedative. I want her out for at least three hours. Then, put her into the cage underneath.” I pause and fish out the key that’s never left my side since Chastity came into my life. “This will lock and unlock it. Lock her in. Make sure Angela doesn’t leave her side until I come home.”

Shifting Chastity’s weight in his arms, he grabs the key and puts it in his pocket. I don’t want to trust Justin with her, but right now, I have no choice. If he detours in any way, Sergei will know, and he will never have to worry about guarding anyone else ever again.

William’s body is limp as they pull him from the car, a large knot already forming on his forehead. “How long do you think he’ll be out?”

Grigori strokes his chin for a moment before shaking his head. “Not long enough for my liking. I have a warehouse nearby. We’ll take him there.”

Instead of climbing in the front, Sergei goes into the back with William, letting me sit next to Grigori. The ride to the warehouse is silent, but that’s just fine for me. I glance back at Sergei every so often, looking for his nod of affirmation, indicating that Justin and Chastity are still on the correct route home.

Each minute that passes, more air fills my lungs. I send a message to Angela, needing her to alert me the minute Chastity is in her care. I need to know she’s safe. I trust Angela to look her over and tend to anything that’s injured. With that settled, I can finally turn my mind to what I plan to do with William. Every part of me wants to kill him. I want to tear him apart piece by piece, starting with his dick.

But I’m smart enough to know that I’m not well-versed in the art of torture. That’s more Grigori’s field. Besides, as much as I’m enraged with just the mere sight of him, there’s no way I can go back to Chastity with his blood on my hands. That’s just not who I am. I’m cool, calm, collected. I don’t kill people.

We pull up to the warehouse, and I let Sergei go first with William in tow. I pull Grigori back, needing to explain the situation in which I find myself, but he simply shakes his head and smiles.

“Not everyone is built to kill. You’re a good man. Someday, I hope to be more like you. I’ll take care of him if you wish to not witness it.”

“He doesn't get away that easily. I may not be the one to kill him, but I’ll certainly make him wish he was dead.”

Inside the warehouse is not at all what I expected. There are boxes all around, shipments waiting to go out. I thought it would be like the movies where it’s a wide-open space with dingy lighting. Weaving my way through the maze, I come to the middle. There’s a large drain in the center of the space, and it doesn’t take a genius to know what it’s for. William lies on the floor with Sergei pointing a gun at his head.

“Do you have any rope?”

Grigori snaps his fingers and Sergei puts the gun away, a petulant frown pulling at his lips. He and Chelsea seem to have far more in common than I think either of them would admit. Hiding the smile, I take the hanks of rope from Sergei and run my fingers over the coarse texture. Sisal, if the roughness is accurate. Kneeling down, I proceed to strip William, tossing his clothes to the side without any care. He won’t need them ever again.

Starting at his ankle, I wind the rope up his body, pulling as tight as I can. Already his extremities start to turn a pale bluish purple as circulation is cut off. I move him to his side, so I bring his legs up to his back, putting him in a sort of hogtie. Bringing the rope back around, I grab his balls, telling myself not to crush them. Not yet. Not until after he begs forgiveness for what he did to my Chastity. Pulling the rope around, I twist his balls and dick in my rope before going up his torso.

Rope here, rope there, small bindings that make it hard to breathe and his intercostals scream as he struggles for his next breath. My sadistic heart lights up as I bring his hands to his chest and begin twisting and weaving rope around each digit, pulling tight to make them throb with every pulse of his heart. Stepping back, I look at him all trussed up. Grigori and Sergei both kneel down to get a closer look at my handiwork. Grigori whistles before slapping his hands against his pants as he stands.

“Remind me to never get on your bad side. Damn. I thought I was good with rope. Where did you learn this?”

Shrugging, I nudge William with my toe, making him wobble over to the other side. “You pick up on things if you’re really interested in learning it. That and I didn’t have friends growing up. Lots of alone time. I took what I learned in scouts and decided to bring it to the next level.”

All three of us stand there, waiting for him to wake up. For several moments, I worry he’s concussed enough that he doesn’t even have hope of waking up. If he’s going to die, great, but not like this. This is such an easy way out. Sergei takes a bucket, fills it up with water, then proceeds to dump it on him, startling him awake. Now, we can begin.