Sweet Captivity Read online

  Sweet Captivity

  Julia Sykes

  Copyright © 2017 by Julia Sykes

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Dark Lessons Excerpt

  Also by Julia Sykes

  Connect with Julia!

  Prologue

  “You don’t want to do this,” I choked out past the lump of terror that clogged my throat. I kept a wary eye on the wicked hunting knife Cristian Moreno held naturally at his side, as though it were an innocuous extension of his arm rather than a threat to my life. “Let me go.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, his perfect white teeth flashing as the booming sound assaulted my eardrums. My hands shook violently, causing the ropes that bound my arms behind me to chafe against my wrists. The burn of the rough fibers against my skin and cold bite of the metal chair beneath me were peripheral; my entire focus was centered on Moreno and the way the gleam of the spare overhead light bulb made his dark eyes glint as sharply as the knife in his hand.

  “No, Samantha,” he corrected me calmly, his light Colombian accent making his deep voice almost lyrical when he spoke my name. “You’re never leaving this place. Not alive, at least. If you answer my questions, I might be inclined to mercy. Otherwise…” He left the unspoken threat hanging in the air, the implication clear. I would experience agony before he finally disposed of me.

  No. Don’t think like that.

  I gasped in several deep breaths so I could manage to speak again.

  “My friends will find me,” I asserted, knowing Dex wouldn’t leave me to die here. My best friend would do whatever it took to rescue me.

  “If they do, they won’t find more than what’s left of your body.”

  Ice crystallized in my veins. He took a step toward me, raising the knife. I tried to shrink away, but the unyielding metal chair behind my back kept me immobile.

  “You can’t hurt me,” I said desperately, twisting against my restraints. “If you kill me, my friends will hunt you down.”

  His dazzling smile illuminated his darkly handsome features with cruel amusement.

  “I want them to know what I’ve done. Your death will be a warning. We’re going to send a little message to your friends.” He gestured behind him, and for the first time, my gaze darted away from the threat before me.

  A man loomed a few feet away, the light on his smart phone indicating that he was recording me. A wicked scar puckered his tanned cheek, deepening his fearsome scowl. His black gaze bored into me, his dark glare penetrating my soul. I shuddered and tore my eyes away, unable to bear looking at him.

  Moreno laughed again. “What, you don’t like my little brother?” He cocked his head at me. “Maybe I’ll give you to him to play with, after I’m finished with you. He has… very unique tastes.” He reached for me, his long fingers trailing down my cheek. I cringed away, my stomach churning. “I think Andrés will like you. Such pale skin. It will mark up nicely.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. He can have you when I’m done. I’m going to extract my answers first.”

  The cool tip of the knife kissed my throat, and I choked on a scream as horror overwhelmed me.

  Chapter 1

  One Day Earlier

  I sat at my computer, my mind completely absorbed in the task before me. The fact that I was staring at the screen didn’t register; I’d fallen into my work, as though I was inside the code, surrounded by information. I was in my element. I might not be physically kicking ass, but I was powerful in this technological world.

  Truthfully, I wasn’t all that good at kicking ass. I’d transferred from tech analyst to field agent a few months ago, and I was coming to realize it hadn’t been the best life choice. It had been a reactionary thing, a desperate cry for attention. I’d thought that maybe if I put myself in the line of fire, Dex’s protective instincts would kick in and he’d finally realize what had been right in front of him for years: me, hopelessly in love with him.

  Despite a very small voice in my mind telling me I shouldn’t, I diverted from my mission and hacked into the webcam on Dex’s computer. He was seated only a few desks away from me in the FBI field office, but I couldn’t allow myself to be caught shooting furtive glances in his direction. This was much more discrete.

  Some people might classify my activity as stalking, but I’d never quite been able to wrap my mind around unspoken social boundaries. Besides, how else was I ever supposed to work up the courage to look the man I loved in the eye?

  Dex was frowning at something on his computer screen, deep in thought. With his chiseled features and piercing, pale blue eyes, he was painfully perfect. Not to mention his blond hair that made him appear like a fierce avenging angel when he was intent on protecting those closest to him.

  But he’d never seen me as more than a buddy. I wasn’t even sure if he saw me as a woman at all.

  I really shouldn’t have been surprised. With my skinny figure, shockingly orange hair, and decidedly tomboy-ish sense of style, my feminine side was all but invisible. Maybe if I’d put in more effort, he’d have noticed me. But seductress wasn’t exactly my M.O., and I’d probably trip in high heels.

  I sighed. I was certainly the polar opposite of the brunette bombshell Dex had fallen for: perfect, gorgeous, sensual Chloe Martin. No wonder he was smitten with her instead of me.

  Cruelly familiar pain knifed through my chest at the thought of them together, perfectly gorgeous and perfectly happy. Grimacing, I closed the connection to his webcam and threw myself back into my work.

  “What are you doing?” I recognized the masculine voice, but I still jolted at its proximity.

  I whirled in my office chair to face Jason Harper, the agent I’d been working for over the last few weeks.

  Working with, I internally corrected myself, even though it didn’t feel that way. Jason tended to bark orders, and I tended to comply. We were supposed to be equals, even if he did have seniority as a field agent. But Jason had a commanding presence about him, and when his green eyes flashed, I jumped to obey.

  “Sam,” he prompted me in that stern tone that made my insides quiver with unease. I snapped to attention, my gaze fixing squarely on him rather than darting around the room in my familiar nervous pattern. “What are you doing?” he asked again, somewhat impatient. He peered behind me at my computer, squinting at the code scrolling across the screen. He’d have an easier time reading it if it were Cyrillic script, and Jason didn’t know a word of Russian.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, knowing he wouldn’t approve of my activities. I mean, he wouldn’t like the stalking thing, but he’d be more annoyed at my personal distraction from my work. Jason and I were supposed to be working a case together, off the books. We were tracking the shadowy Division 9-C, a branch of a
clandestine organization we knew little about. Well, we knew they were bad guys, and they needed to be taken down. That was enough for me.

  Jason was the muscle on the ground, and I was the brains behind the operation. Or the tech goddess. I’d take either title, really.

  Jason’s dark brows rose up to his neatly-styled black hair. “Nothing,” he mimicked me in a reproving monotone. “Do you want to try that again? The truth this time, Sam.”

  I shifted on my chair and cut my eyes away. My gaze landed on the water cooler, the worn navy carpet, the shiny spot where the fluorescent lights caught on Jason’s highly polished leather shoes; anywhere but meeting his steady stare.

  “You don’t want to know,” I mumbled. “Anyway, don’t we need to get out and run surveillance on Moreno? I can fill you in on the other thing on the way.”

  The other thing was our Division 9-C investigation. Our official assignment with the FBI was hunting notorious drug lord Cristian Moreno, who had moved his business into Chicago in recent months after withdrawing from New York. He’d been pushing the date rape drug Bliss, and he was using it to start a human trafficking ring.

  Division 9-C might be bad guys, but Moreno was his own special brand of evil.

  The toe of Jason’s shoe tapped against the carpet in a condemning, staccato rhythm, but he decided not to press me. “Fine,” he allowed. “Let’s go. We can talk in the car.”

  I blew out a relieved breath. I hated having all that alpha male power focused on me. It was bad enough dealing with men on a normal basis, much less working alongside walking testosterone like Jason. He was nice, but that didn’t mean he didn’t intimidate the hell out of me.

  At least he kept a respectful distance while we walked across the field office and toward the elevator that would take us down to the parking garage. Once we were trapped inside the confines of the tiny metal box, I shifted my body into the corner to keep as much space between us as possible. It was a matter of habit. I wasn’t afraid of Jason, but I never allowed anyone into my personal space if I could help it. I didn’t do people. I much preferred to sit behind my computer screen, where I was a safe distance from everyone on the web, not to mention completely anonymous.

  Now that I was a field agent, I had to actually interact with people. Talk to them. Look them in the eye.

  Moving into the field had been a stupid idea. Reckless. And my involvement in this secret mission for Jason was even more reckless.

  But it was too late to go back now. As the FBI’s best tech analyst, I had a special skill set that Jason needed. I might have transferred to field agent six months ago, but that didn’t mean I’d forgotten all my hacking skills. There was no one else who could do this job for Jason, so I’d step up and be the hero. Heroine. Whichever. Was it sexist to apply gender to the term? Probably. I couldn’t keep track of social norms.

  When the elevator finally came to a stop and the doors opened, Jason gestured for me to exit first. I knew he was trying to be a gentleman, but I’d have preferred to follow him. As it was, I had to scoot past him, my body almost making contact with his.

  He didn’t seem to notice my discomfort. Or if he did, he was accustomed to it and didn’t really think much of what most people would term Sam’s odd behavior. Well, that was the nice term.

  Weirdo. Freak.

  The derogatory name-calling didn’t faze me. Not one bit.

  “Talk,” Jason ordered when we were safely in the privacy of the car. I hadn’t trusted anyone in the field office. Well, no one but Jason. If we were overheard discussing our secret operation, we could be betrayed.

  Dex wouldn’t betray us. I knew the truth, but I wasn’t willing to pull him into this. For one, I was still struggling with the personal sense of betrayal he’d inflicted when he’d fallen in love with Chloe instead of me. For another, Jason had insisted on keeping our op as under-the-radar as possible. This wasn’t an official investigation. That meant limiting our manpower. Womanpower. Person-power.

  God, this sexism thing was hard.

  “Sam,” he said my name sharply, calling my attention back to him. I could tell he was getting impatient with my wayward thoughts.

  “Right,” I said quickly. “Division 9-C has their own hacker. They set up false identities for Natalie. There’s an electronic footprint somewhere. I’m working on tracing it, and that will lead us to more information on the organization they represent. Their hacker is good, but I’m better. I just need a little more time.”

  “And how do you know you’re better?” Jason challenged.

  “Because I’m me,” I said coolly, utterly confident in my capabilities. “You focus on protecting Natalie, and I’ll focus on getting us a new lead.”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. No doubt, he was remembering the terrible things that had been done to Natalie, the woman he loved. He might have finally rescued her from the people who had tortured her and twisted her mind, but that didn’t mean she was safe. The people who had so ruthlessly used her—the clandestine Division 9-C and the organization they represented—were still out there. There might not be physical leads, but there had to be traces of them buried deep in the web somewhere.

  We finished driving to our destination in heavy silence. I wished I knew what to say to alleviate some of Jason’s tension, but I didn’t really know where to begin. So I twisted my hands in my lap and tried to calm my whirring thoughts. Per usual, they were firing in several directions at once. I had the Division 9-C hacker to consider, Jason’s feelings to fret over, and our current investigation into Cristian Moreno.

  We pulled up outside a nondescript townhouse, positioning our sedan half a block back from our target. This fieldwork was actually kind of boring a lot of the time. We settled in to wait and watch. I’d so much rather be behind my computer, but at least I wasn’t having to interact with anyone but Jason. And he was content to focus on our investigation instead of idle chatter.

  We’d gotten a lead that this townhouse was being used by Cristian Moreno in his Bliss trafficking. He seemed to have smaller distribution centers set up all over town. It would have been so much easier to raid a massive warehouse, but Moreno wasn’t stupid enough to keep his product all in one place.

  Chicago police had arrested a man for dealing Bliss in this neighborhood two days ago, and he’d directed us to this townhouse as the place where he picked up his product. We could have raided the building, but we wanted to monitor the situation for a few days first. Taking out one small distribution center would be a win, but we might be able to find the larger network if we identified Moreno’s people coming and going and tracked them from the premises.

  Overall, it was a pretty boring day. Watching people and taking notes wasn’t all that interesting. By the time Jason dropped me off at my own townhome, I was eager to get back online and do something that was actually mentally stimulating.

  I dropped into my ergonomic chair and blew out a long sigh. It felt damn good to be back in front of my personal computer. Away from people.

  I was so eager to get back to my coding that I didn’t even bother to change out of my work clothes and into comfy sweats before turning on my computer. Unfortunately, a chat box popped up as soon as I logged on.

  Dex Scott wants to video chat.

  I frowned and hit the ignore button. I didn’t have time to talk to Dex. I had to find the Division 9-C hacker.

  Besides, I didn’t want to talk to Dex. I was too fried, too raw to face him. He’d barely paid attention to me since I’d made the reckless decision to become a field agent. Sure, he still contacted me to play an online game from time to time. When he wasn’t fucking Chloe. Otherwise, he barely interacted with me at all. Especially not in the office, where he’d made it clear he didn’t approve of my choice to transfer into the field.

  He was a damn good agent. Far better than I would ever be. I’d longed to train with him when I’d transferred to field agent, to feel his huge body against mine when we spa
rred.

  But he’d refused to help train me.

  My cheeks heated and my sex clenched at the thought of him training me. After hacking into his internet search history and tracking his sexual predilections for years, I knew my gentle giant of a friend harbored decidedly darker fantasies: domination, bondage, discipline.

  I’d never thought I’d be interested in such depraved acts. Truthfully, before I met Dex, I hadn’t thought much about sex at all. The girls in my dorm at college had teased me for being an asexual, socially awkward geek. It hadn’t bothered me.

  Really. Not one bit.

  A part of my brain acknowledged the silent lie in my mind.

  I’d also tried to lie to myself about Dex for years: that he would come to care for me; that he’d finally realize I was hopelessly in love with him. I craved to be the object of his darker desires.

  The beeping emanating from my speakers became incessant.

  Dex Scott wants to chat.

  I turned off the chat app. Talking to him hurt too much. I needed space to avoid the pain.

  Shoving him from my mind, I threw myself back into my work, sinking into the deep web.

  I was so absorbed in my task that I didn’t hear the lock click back or the soft sound of my front door rubbing across the carpet as it opened. I was jolted out of my work when the back of my neck tingled, an animal response to a lurking threat. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my shocked gasp. A sharp sting penetrated my neck as the needle sank in.