Her Captor Read online

  Jason

  Fuck, I had to fix these damn gadgets or else I wouldn’t be able to take on a new gig for a while. I sat nestled in my underground tech lab neatly hidden in my basement. It had all the specs and not even FBI could get in here if they wanted to.

  Not that I’d have been that fucking sloppy to get their attention.

  “Damn it, these cells aren’t working,” I hissed, picking up another small silver disk to insert into a pair of night vision goggles I was repairing. I had used them in an overseas mission during which I’d helped a jewel thief recover a diamond from a rival. It was an intense assignment but hadn’t held my interest.

  The thrill, the rush of doing what I did was wearing down. Now I found myself searching on the black web database for more endangering missions.

  That wasn’t healthy. And at my age, I really should’ve had more to look forward to. But maybe all this was the frustration with fixing these goggles talking.

  I finally slipped the right cell into the goggles and green lights blinked to life to tell me it was working. It was about damn time. It had taken about a week to get the cells ordered. And that wasn’t even the half of it.

  To dodge any suspicion, I had to go through so many third parties and drop so much cash to make myself invisible. These cells weren’t an everyday thing ordered through the mail.

  “Finally,” I sighed, throwing them back into the metal briefcase they came in.

  I hopped into my leather chair, booted up the black web, and went into the database that had gigs and jobs that were up my alley.

  My VPNs were all straight, so I had the utmost comfort surfing this part of the web. Every so often I would see the advertisement of a woman for sale, and it wrenched my gut. If I didn’t care for my own life, I’d have found them and set them free. But there were many things involved in brothels. Much too messy for me to get involved.

  The jobs on here were waning recently. From regular theft and watching people, to weird porn jobs that involved… bodily fluids.

  Ugh.

  “What the hell are people getting into these days?” I asked myself aloud.

  It used to be that the mafia had jobs on here all the time. Now regular people got wind of this and placed the dumbest shit up here. Irritation wasn’t the word that could even touch the anger I felt.

  My second computer screen lit up and a jingle played. I knew all too well who it was on the other side.

  “Hey, Ming. What’s up?” I greeted, taking his video call.

  “I’m good, Jace, how about you? Find any good jobs lately?” he asked, leaning over in his gaming chair and staring into the screen with his Coke-bottle glasses.

  Ming was Asian, but his ass was the best hacker on the planet. He helped code my tech lab and the security around it.

  “Nah, you know how it is. This particular season is usually really slow.”

  “That’s not fun to hear.” He frowned, moving his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose some more. “But that’s why I went and did you a huge favor.”

  I cocked an eyebrow and laughed. “Favor? I didn’t ask for a—”

  “No, listen. I had to take this job off the market. It was screaming Jason.”

  Ming did have good taste on which gigs to pick up. So, my curiosity was only heightened some more.

  “Alright, tell me. What’s the job?” I leaned back in my chair and rocked, crossing my legs and threading my fingers.

  Ming grinned wide and changed his screen. “This right here.”

  The screen showed a small description about a kidnapping. Evidently there was a chick in need of someone kidnapping… her?

  “Wow, from a female, right?” I asked, double checking.

  “Yeah, I know your reservations about—”

  I shook my head and rubbed my chin. This wasn’t good. Any time females had gigs of this caliber offered, things went wrong.

  Very wrong.

  And it wasn’t just bad luck either. There was something so unwieldly about females when it came to business like this. They were often too flighty and unreliable. I wasn’t in the market for getting my ass arrested.

  If any of my past clients got wind of me in a jail cell, they’d have me offed out of fear that I’d have to snitch on them. I had way too much shit on my back to take such a risk.

  “Ming. I’m sorry, I can’t—”

  “Listen. I have a good vibe about this. It’s a red level gig. So, it’s going to be a big score. I feel good about this. Just… at least meet the lady on video chat tomorrow. Feel it out for yourself. Okay?”

  Trust my gut, or trust Ming? Both had good odds, and it was hard to pick. Though… there was one thing that stuck out to me; this was labeled as a red level job.

  That meant good pay.

  Very fucking good pay. And a good payday like that was hard to come by unless the Capo di Capo of a mob family needed your services.

  I gnashed my teeth and gave in to the temptation of a fuck load of cash.

  “Fine. I’ll do the interview tomorrow. I’m not saying yes right now. But we’ll see.”

  Ming’s screen switched back to his face and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as if he had won this argument.

  Not yet.

  “Great! I know you’re gonna take it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” Ming said, pumping a thumbs up.

  “Sure.”

  His screen went black and I returned to my other monitor.

  Shit, Ming was telling the truth. This was a good catch with the current season being so dry. That, and the fact that bills needed to be paid soon.

  There was nothing like a surplus of cash.

  The words red level kept echoing in my head.

  Then my future passed before my eyes.

  Was I gonna do this for my entire life? Of course, there were some older people in my field.

  But… Someday I’d like to retire.

  Maybe this could even be the last gig. There were things I wanted to invest in.

  The thrill I loved. The kill I loved. The constant adrenaline that pumped through my veins made me feel alive.

  But things got old. And old habits die hard.

  “Ugh, why am I thinking about this so much?” I scolded myself.

  Right now, all I knew was that there was a high-paying gig involving a female that may or may not go well. After I met her, then I could be in a better frame of mind.

  Blam!

  “What the fuck?” I hissed, swiveling around in my chair to see that one of the black gunmetal tasers I was charging had exploded from being overcharged. Well, there went a three-thousand-dollar weapon. At least it wasn’t the destruction of one of my beloved machine guns. That would’ve torn me to pieces.

  My tasers were for more mild assignments. Something I took with me often on gigs. The heavy artillery was usually for gigs that involved crime bosses and heists.

  Hmm, a heist. I was in the mood for a good heist.

  I went over and picked up the pieces off the floor and turned the charger off to the other devices. There was no more business for me down here, even though this small part of my home felt the most welcoming. It was dark, lighted by the flickering of modems, computer towers, and various electronic weapons. This was my sanctuary.

  There was ringing at my door, and I saw through the security monitor that it was a delivery.

  “Shit, almost forgot that was coming today.”

  I sprinted out of my basement and ran upstairs. When I got to the door, the delivery man was just about to tack on an ‘I must’ve missed you’ notice.

  “Hey, I’m here!” I said, swinging the door open.

  “Good, here we go!” The delivery guy heaved the box up and dumped it into my arms. I signed the receipt of delivery and closed the door.

  I sighed, stared at the heavily taped cardboard box and slowly began to kick it into my living room. Inside were all kinds of different disguises.

  I never wore the same outfit once during my gi
gs.

  That was an easy way to be identified. Caught. Or even killed. When people in my profession got killed…

  It wasn’t pretty.

  Chapter Three

  Amanda

  This was a last-ditch effort. I was putting off precious time to get this whole kidnapping thing put together and taking time off from my art. This whole thing was going to cost a lot of money, so at the very least I should be at the studio, making art to sell.

  I sat in Michael’s secretary’s office waiting for him. She had called him about five minutes ago and told him I was there to speak with him. She didn’t seem to care too much, but my nerves were on edge. It was bad enough that the waiting area and the whole building lacked virtually any color or art to adorn their sterile white walls. Seriously, it was like the designer thought that white shiny materials were artistic enough. Absolutely not.

  I sighed and balanced my chin on my hand. I glared at the secretary and she caught my eyes. Looking away, she took out a piece of gum and began to chew.

  Ugh, what was taking him so long. This was unacceptable.

  Maybe it was my mind getting away from me, but a small part of me thought that the secretary liked the fact that Michael was making me wait.

  This was so embarrassing. I was his family… at least I thought I was.

  All this money and business was getting to his head. I wanted to see the old Michael back. The one who always checked in on me at school. The one who always made sure my mom wasn’t lonely.

  It was as if he had gotten more comfortable.

  Now it was going on ten minutes.

  The phone to the secretary’s desk rang. Oh, finally. I stood up and waited for her to give me the okay to go back in.

  “Yes, boss,” she said, hanging up the phone. She flickered her eyes up at me and said, “I’m sorry, your father’s much too busy to see you right now—”

  “Like hell he is!” I hissed. I knew it wasn’t her fault. But she was chewing on this drama like a piece of steak. So screw her.

  I walked back to my father’s big double doors and let myself in.

  “Hey, wait!” the secretary called after me. “You can’t go in—”

  “Shut up!”

  I pushed open the heavy double doors to my father’s office. He only worked a few miles away from home. So that made all of this even more ludicrous.

  “Dad!” I barked, stomping into his office.

  “Amanda, what on earth!” he whispered, covering the phone with a free hand.

  “I want to speak with you, now!” I demanded, folding my arms and furrowing my eyebrows.

  He sighed. “Hold on.”

  He motioned to one of the chairs in front of him. I sat down, fumes still coming from my ears while he took time on the phone.

  After another five minutes went by, he finally put the damn phone down, so I could talk to him.

  “What’s wrong, sweet—”

  I jumped out of the chair and towered over him, a rush of emotions tumbling inside my chest. I didn’t know whether to beg, cry, or slap him.

  “Dad! Mom’s at home lonely. She’s been a wreck these last few days and you have barely spent any time with either one of us! Do you know how bad that hurts?”

  I was digging very deep, hoping that maybe I could call all this off.

  Maybe I didn’t need to fake my own kidnapping.

  “Mandy, dear, I’m trying to make sure I can afford a good life for you two!” he argued back, his face getting tense.

  “You’re a multibillionaire, you already have enough!”

  Tears burned the rims of my eyes and I fought back the urge to swipe everything off his desk.

  “You think you can just sit in this fancy office and look at this fancy view and that things will be okay as long as you generate money? There’s more to life than just making money. There’s us! Your family!” I shouted.

  By now the whole office probably got the gist of what was going on.

  “Mandy…”

  Huh, he was lost for words now.

  “Come on, say something that can beat that. What’s wrong?”

  My fists were balled and down by my sides. My whole body trembled.

  Money was only good for so long. Family was forever.

  Michael’s mouth just hung open.

  His phone rang, and he picked it up without hesitation. That was another punch in the gut. Was it really that easy?

  He had a good heart. There were small echoes of it left. All he needed was something extra to bring the old him back. To remind him how important family was.

  “Okay, send them in,” he said to his secretary on the phone. When he hung up he looked back at me and sighed. “Mandy—”

  “Just don’t…”

  I turned around and just as I was heading to the doors, a group of men entered, and I shoved my way past their stuffed suits. My rudeness garnered me a couple of glares from them as I marched my way to the elevator.

  * * *

  I limped into my room, dealing with all the emotions raging inside me. It was nice to walk into a space I thought of as peaceful. My bed was made, and I flopped down onto the soft fluffy sheets, inhaling the clean scent that the dryer sheets left behind. Michael had it where the maids did our linens once every other day.

  So there had to be some love left for us if he wanted to go through all that. Or else he could’ve saved some money, divorced my mom, or hell, not even had married her at all. I grabbed onto my bed sheets, as if it were the only piece of heart my stepfather had left.

  Was it?

  I didn’t want to think about all that right now. I only wanted to let the darkness of my closed eyes wash over me as I caught up with myself mentally and emotionally.

  This bed was the best. Italian made with the best padding and stitching. I never woke up with any pains. I had better savor this now, because once this whole kidnapping plan went down, I knew the accommodations weren’t going to be like home. Not at all.

  I sighed and flopped over onto my back. I couldn’t help but wonder… How would Michael react? I was planning this all on the basis that he’d realize his love for us and not take our existence for granted.

  What I didn’t plan was this; what if he didn’t care? When I returned, I’d feel funny not telling my mother to divorce him.

  I allowed my mind to wander even further; what if something went wrong? This was dangerous. The man who was going to kidnap me could easily turn around and make it real. Next thing you know, I’d have lost all control over the situation.

  My heart began to speed up thinking about all the negative outcomes. The worry was gaining weight in my gut by the second. Of course, this was making me worried. Too many things could go wrong.

  But it was a risk worth taking. Not just for me, but for my mom. She didn’t deserve to be crying her eyes out day after day because he wanted to cancel dinner, lunch, whatever the hell he needed.

  “Ugh, Mandy, stop being such a worry wort!” I chastised myself.

  I needed some relaxation, some release. If I had a boyfriend, I could easily just have some sex. Many people say that sex is the best relaxation method. And, that’s probably true. From the physical feeling to the orgasm, it probably did wonders to stress. From what I’d experienced from little virgin vibrators and my own fingers, it’s helpful.

  There was no way I could go on this kidnapping thing a virgin.

  I hopped out of my bed and locked my door. This was it, I was going to try to pop my own cherry. After all, I was independent, strong-willed, and savvy, what better way to mark it by marking myself?

  First, I had to Google it, because every virgin has always heard of how painful the actual cherry popping was. I scrolled through a few forums and even found articles of other young women who took their own virginity too.

  Now that I was pumped up, I brought up my favorite porn channel and began to watch a raunchy spanking video. Watching the man’s huge cock pleasure the woman on screen made me wet.

>   Okay… slowly…

  I built myself up against an orgasm but didn’t let myself hit it. I needed all that pleasure and courage to break through my hymen.

  “Oh, shit!” I cried, taking my finger out and sitting up in my bed. “I can’t do it,” I whined to myself.

  No matter how much I pumped myself up and rationalized it, there was still some pathetic ounce of hope inside me that someday I’d meet my man. I wanted him to take my virginity. An actual cock.

  Who was I kidding?

  My phone vibrated, and it was a text message from Michael.

  Sorry, won’t be home for dinner on time. Made reservations at our favorite restaurant for you two though. Go and enjoy.

  My grip on the phone tightened and I threw it against the wall across my room. Good thing I had my protective case on it, or else I’d be out of a one-thousand-dollar phone.

  Looks like operation kidnapping was going to be a go.

  Sometimes people had to learn the hard-fucking way.

  Chapter Four

  Jason

  My watch vibrated as the alarm went off notifying me it was time for the video call with my newest client.

  I descended the stairs of my basement after securing the locks on the door, and then checked for any glitches or bugs. I pressed the button on the adjacent wall and an identification panel slid out. I placed my thumb for print identification and typed in the password to the hidden door leading into my tech lab.

  This was my center of operations, my contact system and database center. My heart. I had the strongest and most secure VPN to hide my location, the strongest firewall to prevent hacking and viruses, and the best security codes to protect my database.

  It was very important to protect my database, considering it held my full client list, most of who wanted to remain anonymous and ghosts. It was risky and tricky as most of them were public offenders, ex-mafia or mafia witnesses, white-collar criminals, and even some assassins. If my data fell in the wrong hands, then a lot could go wrong and so many lives could be lost, and I could spend the rest of my life in jail. But intrigue made it more fun, and although most of these guys were guilty motherfuckers, I took a lot of pride in my job.