Black Rose: A dark romance thriller (Obsession Inc. Book 3) Read online

  BLACK ROSE

  Obsession Inc. Book 3

  By Dori Lavelle

  Black Rose (Obsession Inc. Book 3)

  Dori Lavelle

  Copyright © 2018

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Cover design: Dori Lavelle

  Editor: Miss Editrix and Mystique Editing

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  My eyes open an inch at a time. I want to keep them shut. My mind wants to stay awake, to stay alert.

  I sit upright, my body feeling as though it has no bones at all. One glance out the window tells me we’re in the air, but not for long. I can already feel the sensation of Dax’s private plane lowering to the ground.

  Barely moving my head, I glance around me. Dax is nowhere to be seen.

  Shortly before we left the yacht and he’d forced me onto the plane, I fought him with the little energy I had left, leaving bite marks on his hand.

  Unable to handle me, he had given me a shot which put me to sleep immediately.

  I’m still his prisoner with no promise of escape. I cannot begin to imagine how to escape from this hell. He’s a ruthless murderer. He killed so many without blinking an eye. He killed his own mother. He would not think twice about killing me.

  That’s the only reason why I sit here, afraid, terrified to even breathe.

  My eyes start to close again, my body begs me to give in to sleep. I refuse and wait for him to return. I don’t have to wait for long.

  His smile is wide as he strides down the aisle, coming to sit next to me. His finger traces the length of my cheekbone. I recoil within.

  “Welcome back, baby. You’re just in time.”

  Where’s he taking me? Which part of the world is he going to torture me in now?

  When I don’t respond, he doesn’t force me. I turn my head to look back out the window, ignoring him.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Yes, please.” My lips are so dry they’re cracking. Not even my saliva can soften them.

  There’s a risk he could put something in the water to drug me. But I don’t feel I have a choice. My thirst is overwhelming.

  He hands me a plastic cup. I’m barely able to hold it. I lower it to my lap and look back out the window at the fluffy, white clouds, thinking about what he did to me, to my baby.

  I had no idea if I had wanted to keep the baby, but even if I didn’t, I would’ve found the right parents for my child.

  My stomach still cramps from the abortion medication he snuck into my body. I’m trying hard to ignore the pain, and the emptiness.

  I lift the cup to my lips and take a small sip. As thirsty as I am, it takes me longer to drink the water than it should, but finally, I lick the last drop from my lips, and he takes the cup from me.

  “Good girl. You need all your energy. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  He disappears again and returns with a salmon sandwich. I force myself to eat at least half of it. He’s right, I do need the strength.

  Finally, the plane touches the ground and I sigh with silent relief. I’m terrified of what will come next but being on solid ground is safer than in the air where I have nowhere to run. In fact, it’s also safer than being on the Black Mamba yacht, surrounded by the dangers of the sea.

  He escorts me to the bathroom and when I’m done, instead of asking me to follow him off the plane, he gathers me into his arms.

  He’s well aware of how weak I am. He had found pleasure in breaking me, emptying me. Now I’m nothing but a shell, a shadow of the person I once was.

  He descends the staircase with me in his arms, waiting to find out what comes next. There’s a sound of a tractor in the distance, and those of cows mooing. A wave of panic assails me.

  He has brought me to a farm as he promised he would. I try not to think about what tortures await me. Knowing Dax as well as I do, I’m in for a nasty surprise.

  Trying not to panic, I remind myself that this is better than it was before. There are more opportunities for me to escape on the ground than on water.

  He lowers me onto the passenger seat of a dusty truck and drives down a dirty path leading to a farmhouse.

  I don’t speak to him and he doesn’t strike up a conversation. The only sounds are those of our heavy breathing.

  When we arrive at our destination, he opens my door and lifts me from the vehicle, then approaches the farmhouse I had seen from a distance. Some chickens run past us and dust swirls upward from the ground. I close my eyes as it enters them, wishing I could escape this moment.

  It’s not over. I’m not ready to give up. As soon as I get my strength back, I’ll come up with a plan to get away from the monster.

  The front door creaks as he pushes it open with a shoulder. The moment he steps inside, stale, musty air fills my lungs. The house smells like no one has lived in it for quite some time.

  “Home sweet home.” He kisses me on the cheek.

  He doesn’t seem to mind that I don’t answer as he lowers me onto a flowery couch that smells old. Above me, the ceiling is stained and dirty.

  Hands in his pockets, his gaze sweeps the room. “There’s a lot that needs to be done around here,” he says. “But we will make this into a beautiful home. You’ll never want to leave again. Not that you can anyway.” He returns his gaze to me. “You won’t get past the electric fence surrounding the property.”

  A flash of wild grief tears through me. Of course he has strong measures in place to keep me trapped here. This is my new prison. He will not make it easy for me to get away again. This time, if I try and fail, I have no doubt I’ll end up dead. He will kill me like he killed his mother and his employees.

  “I could have paid someone to renovate the farmhouse for us, but I figured it would be romantic to make it our own together, don’t you think?”

  He waits for an answer that won’t come. Instead of responding, I curl up on the dingy couch, my hands between my knees, my back turned away from him. I close my eyes, the only way I can shut him out.

  Any moment now, he could strike. He hates nothing more than being ignored.

  In my darkness, I imagine myself back home with my sister, holding on to her. Maybe if I focus hard enough on what I want, it would come true. Since my body is helpless at the moment, I only have my mind to rely o
n.

  “Do you want something more to eat?” His question lands on deaf ears.

  I wish he would go and rot in hell. I can’t even bear to be in the same room as him. Even though he believes we’re married, I hope we will share different bedrooms like we did on the Black Mamba. The mere thought of sleeping next to him night after night causes ice to spread through my stomach.

  He makes me sick and I cannot wait for him to suffer the consequences of his actions. I have never hated anyone as much as I hate Dax Pierce. One day he will not only pay for what he did to me, but also to the innocent women who came before me.

  He repeats his question, but my eyes remain closed. Finally, he relents and sits in an armchair next to the couch. He watches me in silence.

  Although the air is thick with his anger and frustration, he doesn’t say a word. Tense silence hovers between us and I count the seconds before he explodes. I know he will eventually. It’s only a matter of time.

  It was not my intention to fall asleep, but the next time I open my eyes, the sky outside the window is blushing. How long have I been asleep for? Had he spiked the water he had given me on the plane or were remnants of the drug he had used earlier still coursing through my veins?

  Panic blossoms inside my chest. I hate that the sun is setting. Dax is a man of the darkness. Most of his cruelties happen at night. Maybe he thinks the night will cover his evil acts.

  I comfort myself with the thought that he will not try to sleep with me this time since the bleeding from the forced abortion has not yet ceased.

  This time I sit up on the couch. When he serves me an avocado chicken salad, I think of pushing it away, but I can’t afford not to eat. My stomach is already complaining.

  He waits patiently for me to finish my dinner, then he locks the doors and windows. Each window I can see from the couch has a heavy lock. Finished, he lowers himself onto the couch opposite mine.

  “We’ll sleep in here tonight. I’ll take this couch so you have enough space. I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow. The rooms are a mess.” He blows me a kiss. “Goodnight, darling.”

  I let out a silent sigh of relief and lay myself down again, resting my head on my hands.

  The sky outside the window darkens and I’m still awake, forcing my mind to come up with an escape plan.

  Dax is not sleeping either. I don’t need to look at him to know his eyes are on me. What’s going on through his sick mind? Is he really proud of everything he has done? Is he thinking of new ways to up his game?

  In the darkness, the tears squeeze through the corners of my eyes. I do my best to stop my shoulders from shaking and press my lips together so I don’t make a sound. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for giving Dax entry into my life. I should have listened to Curtis’s warnings about him. I should have chosen Curtis, whose love was real unlike Dax’s fucked-up version.

  “I know you’re upset,” he says in the dark.

  My heart stutters at the sound of his voice and my crying comes to a screeching halt.

  “Everything will be okay again. I promise you that. I’ll make you happy again.”

  His words repeat in my mind, over and over again, until I fall drowsy and tumble into the arms of sleep where more nightmares await me.

  Chapter Two

  I wake up to the sound of a rooster crowing and chickens clucking outside the window. Shit, I’m still here and it’s morning. Another day to spend with the devil.

  My movements are slow as I turn to face the other side. I groan at the discomfort brought on by lying on one side for hours. But no amount of pain can compare to the inner ache pulsing inside my heart. I dreamed of my baby, a little girl I didn’t get a chance to hold as she was taken away from me as soon as she was born.

  Even fast asleep, I’d felt the pain of loss that still plagues me, and guilt that I did not do enough to protect her.

  “Ready to start the day?” He plants his hands on his knees.

  The only response he gets is a groan as I stretch my aching legs. The bones in my body feel as though they’re fractured in some places.

  My stomach clenches when he gets up and comes to my couch. He grabs my hands a little too tight and pulls me to a sitting position. As soon as he lets go, I lay myself down again. I don’t have the physical or the mental strength to even sit. My rage sears the inside of my chest before spreading to my entire body. There will be a high price to pay for this, but frankly, right now I don’t have the strength to care.

  He rests a warm hand on my cheek. “I know this doesn’t look like a fairytale, but it can be. We’ll create it together. But you have to work with me here.”

  “I’m tired.” My lips barely move as I speak.

  “Then you have to eat something. I’ll make you breakfast. Let me take care of you.”

  He runs a hand over my bald head. My skin crawls at his touch. I don’t move away, though. I’m already walking on dangerous ground. My inner bravery does not make me less afraid of the monster that lurks behind his eyes, waiting to attack when it doesn’t get what it wants.

  His eyes seem darker today, always a sign that he’s annoyed. I’ve had enough time to study him, to know when I’ve gone too far with my rebellion.

  I grit my teeth and force myself to sit. Everything around this living room looks filthy with stained carpet, dust and cobwebs everywhere. This new environment is a far cry from the luxury we left behind on the Black Mamba.

  This time, I allow him to pull me to my feet, to take me to a bathroom that’s as dirty as the rest of the house. It has a dirty bath and a shower cubicle with a molded curtain hanging at the entrance, a stained sink, and peeling yellow paint on the walls.

  A tiny window is positioned above the bath. Like all the other windows, it also has a lock in it. Dax may not have done anything to make this place livable, but he invested a lot of work in making sure it’s a solid prison. Hindering my escape was his priority.

  When his fingers reach for a strap of my silky nightdress from the yacht, my body tenses up and I take a step back. “Don’t.”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.” He draws me back to him and sweeps the strap off my shoulder. “You need a shower, that’s all. Let me help you.”

  A shower sounds tempting. It’s been a while since I had one, but I’m cringing at the idea of him washing me. What if the act turns him on?

  The worry is still on my mind, but I step into the shower and under the warm jet of water. The soothing water on my skin feels so good I even forget the grime at my feet.

  Ignoring the danger close by, I close my eyes and give the water permission to wash over me, to follow the curves of my body, to drip into my eyes and mouth. I even swallow some of it to quench the thirst that has returned.

  Dax hands me a sponge and a bottle of shower gel. The stuff he gives me looks new. He must have done a lot of shopping and stocked up before we arrived on the farm. Among the dirt on the sink I noticed a cosmetic bag filled with toothbrushes—toothpaste, lotions, shower gels, tampons, pads, and several other toiletries.

  My worries melt away when he doesn’t join me in the shower or offer to wash me himself.

  I take my time scrubbing my body. It sickens me to shower with him watching me, but the water is the best comfort I’ve had in a while and I don’t want to get out. As water trickles to my feet, I try not to glance down, afraid of what I’d see. But my eyes are drawn like a magnet to the little smear of blood disappearing into the drain, washed away but still visible in my mind’s eye. The blood is not much, not anymore, but it’s enough to make my raw wounds ache. It reminds me of the baby I’ll never have. It warns me of how dangerous Dax is.

  Finally, Dax reaches into the shower and turns off the tap. He hands me a towel, a fresh pair of underwear, a pad, and my filthy nightdress.

  “I’ll wait outside for you,” he says and leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t close the door.

  Alone for a few minutes, I dress and use the t
oilet. I’m surprised there’s not much blood left. I’m sure it will stop entirely in the next few days. But how many days would I be stuck on this farm with this monster? How many days until someone rescues me, or I find a way out before he kills me? I hope I won’t find out when it’s too late.

  Once I’m done, he comes back inside and takes me by the hand. He leads me through the bedroom adjoining the bathroom, down the dark hallway, and into the kitchen.

  It’s the first time I’m seeing it because last night we ate dinner in the living room. It looks worse than what I’ve seen in the rest of the house so far.

  In the middle of a dusty kitchen table is a red bucket with a white rag hanging on the side, filled with soapy water.

  The stove has food dried up on it. Something must have boiled over. The sink is overflowing with dirty dishes that give off a rotten smell. My stomach churns. This whole place is a breeding ground for bacteria. It will take hours and a lot of energy to scrub this place clean.

  I’m surprised Dax doesn’t react to the dirt in the house. He’s walking around with a smirk on his face as though everything is working out as he’s planned. I guess it is.

  “Don’t worry about the dirt,” he says. “Unfortunately the previous owner was a pig.” He turns a knob on the stove. “This stove and most of the stuff around here doesn’t even work, but we don’t need any of it.” He turns to me, his face happy and relaxed. “I hope you won’t mind cooking our food over an open fire until I get us a new stove.”

  My eyes widen. He must be out of his damn mind. I want to tell him as much, but I hold myself back. This is not the right time. I can’t fight him yet.

  He lifts a grocery bag from the floor and lifts out a brand new kettle. “After breakfast, you can start with the cleaning.”

  While he’s busy fiddling with the kettle, his back turned to me, I take some steps back until my back meets the edge of the sink. My eyes are focused on the dirty pot within my arm’s reach.

  Before I can do anything, he moves to the fridge and yanks it open.

  It’s packed with so much food that he can’t seem to decide what to take out. I take his moment of indecision to act.