Hostage of my Heart Ch. 01

"Over here, lovebirds." Sainte waved the gun.

Opal didn't look at Rand again. She went back to the same place she'd been sitting before, and when Rand followed, she turned away as though she couldn't bear to face him.

He glared at the circle of people, only three of whom weren't staring at her. The old black man looked as angry as Rand felt, the surfer and one of the younger women were averting their faces as though they felt Opal's pain personally. The redhead was gleefully eating Rand with her eyes, while the older woman and the male model sneered at Opal. Rand wanted to put his arm around her and protect her and was enraged because he couldn't.

Sandir met his eyes and for a long moment held the contact. Rand broke it when Sainte returned, but dropped his chin in a short, sharp nod for Sandir's benefit.

"Okay, you, you, and you too, Hero, go with my friend. Since it seems like we'll be stuck here for a while, we've got some equipment in the van we're going to need. Behave yourselves and no one gets hurt. Anyone makes a break for it when you go outside, all the women die. You understand?"

Rand tensed as Sainte indicated Sandir, the surfer, and himself, but relaxed when Sainte mentioned equipment. That made sense. The yuppie and the model would be useless humping heavy anything. Those were mirror-muscles, not the practical variety. He and Sandir had working-class bodies, and the surfer, for all his lean good looks, had the wide shoulders and sturdy thighs of a farm lad.

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Rand tried to catch Opal's eye as he stood, but she was hunched over, her forehead resting on her bent knees. He would have said something, but he didn't want to draw attention to her. He left with Sandir, Tim, and two guards to supervise the operation.

In the silence after the stairway door thunked shut behind them, Sainte peered around at the group left behind. "Okay, let's get settled in for the long-haul, ladies and gents. What's your name, honey?"

"Helena, sir."

"Okay, Helena. How about you and Calvin Klein take the slut here down to that glass booth? When you get there, all of you sit at the table and shut the fuck up. Got it?"

Helena was already on her feet when he finished. "Yes, sir. "

She nudged Opal with the pointy toe of her shoe. "C'mon, slut, you heard."

Sainte laughed, and Helena looked pleased.

Opal lifted her head and stared at Helena for a long, quiet moment before she rose.

Helena smiled sweetly at Sainte as she strutted by, wagging her ass, and he almost laughed again. He was going to enjoy cutting the stupid bitch into pieces. She was one of those women who thought her cunt would keep her alive.

He motioned to the rest of the group. "Okay, girls and boy-- you go with my friends for a bathroom break and I'll see you in a bit."

One of his men lined them up in the hallway while another herded them from behind, his automatic rifle at the ready. Sainte lowered his voice and murmured to Terry as he paused. "Let them have something to eat and lock 'em up somewhere afterward, then one of you go down and make sure everything went okay with the others.

With that ominous set of instructions, Sainte headed back toward the conference room, where his delicious new playtoy awaited his attention.

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Thanks for reading! ... stay tuned for Chapter 2... on or about April 1^st (no fooling!)