Fracture (Unbreakable Bonds 6)

Snow might have been into more violent and rough forms of sex, but there had been little to no bondage involved. The only person he trusted enough to tie him up was Jude, and they’d played around with it only a little bit in the past. Everything about the room screamed pain and torture and nothing about pleasure. At least not for one of the participants.

The only other things in the room were the lighting stands and the tripod. There looked to be a couple of extension cords that could come in handy if he could get to them, but there were no heavy objects for bludgeoning and no sharp objects for stabbing. Getting out was not going to be easy.

Metal scraping across metal drew Snow’s gaze to the only door in the room as someone turned the deadbolt, unlocking it. The door swung soundlessly open and the first thing to enter was a black nine-millimeter handgun at the end of a long, muscular arm. The arm was attached to a large man that had to be nearly seven feet tall and all fucking muscle. He easily stepped around the video equipment as if he’d been in the room dozens of times before. With the gun pointed directly at Snow’s face, he stood in front of the doctor, glaring at him.

“Stay silent and you stay conscious,” the man threatened.

Snow clenched his teeth together to fight the urge to launch a series of snarky remarks. He needed to stay conscious. It was the only way he was going to figure out where the fuck he was and who the hell had him. The man standing in front of him had all the earmarks of being security. The muscle and hard attitude made Snow think that the man was there to protect someone else and to potentially make sure that Snow behaved himself.

As if to prove Snow correct, another man stepped into the room with a cell phone pressed to his ear. The two men couldn’t have looked more mismatched. While the security guard wore jeans and a cotton long-sleeved shirt that was molded to his powerful shoulders and arms, the other man looked like he was fresh from the office in his dress slacks and white button-down shirt. His dark navy tie had been pulled loose and the top couple of buttons had been unfastened.

“Okay, Pumpkin. You help Mommy fold the towels and pick up your toys before I get home,” the man said in a sweet, gentle voice. He turned to look at Snow and smirked before he continued speaking in the same tone. “No, I’ll be home soon. Don’t worry. I’ll be there to read you a story before bed. I promise. I love you too.”

As Snow stared at the man, he thought was going to be sick. The man standing just past the bodyguard looked like the average middle-class husband, father, and corporate drone. And Snow was willing to bet that the vast majority of the world had no idea that this…this monster…when he slipped away from his wife and kid each night, was coming to this secret place to film the rape, beating, and torture of so many poor, innocent people.

“Sorry about that,” his captor said with an easy smile as he slipped his cell phone into his trouser pocket. “Kids, you know. Well…” he paused and his smile turned a little more evil, “I guess you don’t know. You and your paramedic don’t have kids.”

To Snow’s surprise, the man stepped around the hired muscle and sat on the edge of the bed closest to him. “I asked around about you, Dr. Frost, when I found out that you were concerned with poor Jordan.”

“Poor Jordan?” Snow demanded in horror. “You’re the one who put Jordan in that state. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“Lucky is the appropriate word here. He is very lucky to be alive right now.” The man leaned forward, his watery blue eyes narrowing on Snow. “But I’m sure you’re aware of how easy it is for a patient of Jordan’s fragility to take a sudden and unforeseen turn for the worse. It would be a shame if he were to suddenly die.”

Snow shoved off the wall, lunging toward the man until his chains jerked and clanged, holding him half-suspended in the air, unable to reach his target. “You stay the fuck away from Jordan and all of Jude’s family!”

The bodyguard stepped forward and backhanded Snow, slamming him against the wall. Pain radiated through Snow’s face and the back of his skull from his previous injury. Nausea rose again with the pain, and he fought the swell back.

“Why?” he croaked.

“Why? Why did Jordan end up in the hospital? Why did he end up in one of my little videos?” Snow blinked, focusing on the man in front of him. He was sitting with his hands on his knees and a smug look on his face. “Because he owed me.”