A moment later, Lindsay was behind her, gripping her arm. “I'm so sorry I have to do this, Shannon.”
She didn't register the prick of the needle at first. When she did, she looked between Damian and Lindsay, shock and betrayal warring inside her, clearly unsure which one of them she should hate more. Then her eyes drifted closed and she collapsed against Lindsay.
“Well, that's one way to handle her, I guess,” Damian said.
“It was an extreme circumstance. Don't you dare drug her,” Lindsay said, tossing the used syringe in the trash can beside his desk. “It'll buy you some time.”
As if Damian would ever drug her. As if he even had access to whatever horse-class sedative the doctor had just pushed into her bloodstream. Damian held out his arms and Lindsay passed Shannon's limp body to him. When he held her, Lindsay unlocked and removed the metal bracelet from her wrist. Then he brushed the hair out of her eyes and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Go, get her out of here.”
Damian carried her out of the office, down the hall, and past the crowd of whispers. The blond man held the front door open for him, then went outside to open the passenger side of the car. When Shannon was safely strapped in, the blond man turned and went back into the house without another word.
Damian opened the glove box and took out a coil of rope. He hadn't believed the doctor when he'd said Damian might have to restrain her to get her home. Now he was glad he'd listened. There was no telling how she'd react when she woke from the drugs.
He quickly tied her hands and moved around to the driver's side to start the car.
He was grateful she was unconscious. It gave him space to think. He hadn't had a moment to think straight since getting Lindsay's call. When the doctor had told him what had happened, all Damian could think about was how fast he could get her out of that fucking house and to some place safe.
He was surprised by just how attached he was to her already, how attached he was to the whole idea of her. And now that he had her, tied up and drugged in his car, the reality of what the fuck he was doing started to hit him.
This was a felony. He was committing a felony. He was now a... kidnapper. He couldn't bring himself to leave her in that house with Brian. And he couldn't call the cops. It would implicate Lindsay. He couldn't let this girl go. She couldn't take care of herself. She had nowhere to go. She couldn't stay at the house with that psychopath. What else was he supposed to do?
When someone you cared about was in trouble, you helped them. The problem was, she wasn't going to interpret this as help, and the law was on her side.
These thoughts kept spinning through his head faster and faster as he drove down the long dark empty road. If someone had told him a few months ago he'd accidentally commit a felony, he wasn't sure he would have believed them. It wasn't as though he'd planned this.
Yes, he'd agreed to all the things Lindsay had laid out. But Shannon had wanted... It wasn't as though she were being kept chained in a basement. But now she wasn't a willing participant. Whatever closeness and pleasure they may have shared less than twenty-four hours before, she was an unwilling captive now.
He couldn't let her go. He couldn't take her to the police. How would he explain the drug she'd been injected with? How would he explain any of it? And even if he could, would she agree to his version of events? Doubtful.
There was that saying, the house always wins. It was about gambling and casinos, but it felt fitting now. Because somehow that large white house out in the middle of nowhere had won. Somehow Damian had allowed himself to get sucked into this mess and now he had an actual fucking hostage. This woman didn't want to be with him now. She wanted Lindsay.
For whatever insane reason, she wanted to live with that criminal doctor, a man engaged in selling women like livestock. Oh sure, the story was that everybody was getting their needs met. Whatever the fuck that meant. But were they really? Where was the exit clause for these women? Fucking nowhere. There was no way out of their very illegal contracts, and Lindsay and every other whackjob running that house acted like somehow this was all okay.
“Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Motherfucking FUCK! Lindsay you asshole!”
As if Lindsay could hear him having a mental breakdown on the highway. Now Damian was just as much a criminal as they were because there was no way in hell he was letting this girl go. He couldn't risk the house or that Brian would see her as a loose end. He turned to glance at Shannon, but his yelling hadn't woken her. She was well under the power of those drugs now.
And well under my power, a dark thing inside him whispered.
Shannon shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes shot open when she felt the ropes tied around her wrists, terrified that Brian had her again. But then she began to remember what had happened, and she started to cry again.
“We're almost home,” Damian said. He pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park. He opened a bottle of water and held it up for her to drink. She was so thirsty. It was lukewarm but still wonderful. He put the lid back on the water and placed the bottle in the cup holder and pulled back out on the road.
Her current situation made it clear to her that she did not know Damian Brand. At all. It didn't matter that they'd had a weekend of incredible kinky sex. It didn't matter that she found him attractive or that she'd wanted him. He'd kidnapped her. And tied her up. And he didn't seem too upset about the fact that Lindsay had drugged her.
Her voice was small when she said, “Why am I tied up?”
“For my personal safety,” Damian said. “You didn't seem too keen on leaving the house.”
He kept his eyes on the road. He seemed eerily calm.
She remembered when Mina had come to the house and the arguments that had happened often in full view of others. Brian had said that there was something dark and dangerous about Lindsay. She couldn't deny that in the face of the night's events. Both men had drugged her in the space of a few hours. Lindsay could have killed her. He didn't know about the drugs Brian had put in her food. It hadn't exactly come up in conversation while she was begging him not to give her to Damian.
What if those drugs interacted? But she felt okay. Groggy as hell, but otherwise pretty normal. If they'd interacted surely she wouldn't have woken up. That would have been some irony... for sedatives to be the thing that killed her... accidentally. How fucked up was that?
“I-I can't believe he drugged me. I can't believe he just threw me away. I-I thought he loved me.”
“He does love you. He did it to keep you safe. You aren't safe at that house.”
Shannon's fingers drifted up to her bare throat and she let out a choked sob at the absence of her collar. It had felt so strong and solid against her skin. It had felt like his hand on her all the time, even when he wasn't with her. And now, there was an empty void where the metal should be.
Damian noticed the gesture. “We'll get you a new collar,” he said. As if this were about accessorizing.
When Damian got her a collar would he just as easily take it away? Like it was nothing? Like she was nothing? She'd just started to really trust Lindsay... to really love Lindsay. And now he was injecting her with drugs and throwing her away.