Relentless

Maddox       “I want her back now!” shouts Maddox into the crowded room. Many people surrounding the glass coffee table, policeman the private investigators all staring at him. Some holding china turning towards the older couple sitting comfortably on their white lavish sofa. Waiting instruction from the quiet couple. Police chief receives a nod from the impeccably well-dressed man, turning towards the outburst. His own suit unbuttoned and wrinkled. His hands moving through his hair trying to keep his emotion in check. If his eyes starting to glow have not given him away yet his temper soon will. Losing sight of his supposed mate infuriates his wolf. Police chief moving towards the French doors, pulling on his now creased suit with him on the way out of the room “I know your worried about her Maddox, but we are doing all we can, cool down or you’ll be furry and the wolf will be out of the bag. I have the best detectives out searching every nook and cranny looking for her”. Smacking his hand on his back leading him further out “you are the last to speak to her that afternoon.” Pacing the patio “Even on the cameras around the park only show her going in”. Maddox stepping close to his friend “the packs out looking too” whispering into the air pulling him further out of view of the windows “We have searched every inch of that park and found no trace of her. Either she ran on her own or the people that did take her know how to stay hidden” gripping Maddox’s arm forcing him to look into his eyes. Police chief being his long-time friend trying to keep Maddox calm, “your pacing and shouting at her parents isn’t helping to find her” keeping his eyes “we have known them our entire lives you know they’ll stop at nothing to get her back“ keeping his attention Maddox crashes onto the wooden bench holding up the railing. Maddox growling “you know I can’t. They are sitting there like she is out at the shops not missing for months! She’s been gone three months now!” working his hand through his hair. Getting off the floor eyes glowing, his wolf fighting to get out, to search again. His wolf more frantic each passing day without her.      Deep breathing helping his claws recede, eyes glowing yellow fighting his wolf for control. Maddox running his hands through his hair “I’m going out of my mind, I know we weren’t properly together, but we were getting there with the wedding next year. I miss those daily messages more than I thought I would. After they told us we were arranged, both of us making a friendship. I can feel she is my mate. Waiting for her to feel it too has been killing me. I know humans are different. They don’t have the same instincts”. Maddox pacing the deck “I don’t know if I can get her to accept me but dammit I need her back” his hands going down his scuffed face towering over his lifelong friend “James I want her back”. Giving his friend a hug “you know I’ll do all I can to get her back, we all will, she was my friend too way back when” hugging him back, reassuring each other. Pulling away briskly James holding Maddox’s head “I must get back in there, need Stella and Alister to pool our resources. Them calling in others is making things more complicated, got wolfs butting heads out there. You going to be ok Mad?” sincerity written across his face “I’ll be better when you find her, any updates or anything at all you call me ok?” Holding his friend’s arm as they walk away from each other “I will Mad” offering a small smile before he goes back into the mansion, leaving Mad to get his wolf under control.      Maddox left alone on the terrace silently breaks down, bracing himself on the small wall overlooking the gardens. Never been an emotional man but not knowing where Riley is, getting to him worse than he thought possible. Not being able to scent her, see her. Having their last moments together on a loop in his head remembering her smile as she left going about her day like any other. Neither of them knowing it was the last time.      A done deal made by their parents, both esteemed individuals from powerful old money families on her twenty-first birthday they were to be wed. She was told on her sixteenth birthday. Riley was not excited by the arranged marriage. As time grew and they spent time together, growing close much to their parent’s satisfaction. Riley was his mate; he could feel it in his bones she belonged to him. The marriage and getting her family on board was the hard part, his heritage and family money made it easier to get her family to agree to an arranged marriage. Riley doesn’t know much about the shifters even that Maddox is an Alpha wolf. He was hoping to convince her of their connection the more time they spent together. She had confided in him about her art, both knowing her parents would not approve, testing him to see if he would feel the same or approve of her artistic side. She had a talent even he could see that; he wouldn’t know Van Gogh’s work from a street artists piece. Pulling out his phone, gazing at his secret picture collection of her, working in her secret studio only he knows about. She doesn’t know he paroles it on a regular basis in both forms to check on her, his pack too. Spending many nights and days in there now hoping she will come through the door. His entire pack tracking her scent but coming up empty. Riley never knew he took any pictures of her working or even that he put a security camera in, needing to know she was always safe.       Gazing through the pictures looking at how her hair pulled back in a messy bun on top of her head “anyone seeing you like this would never know you are the upper west side dripping in Gucci and never without your Louboutin heels” muttering to himself. Finding a calm looking at her, fingers itching to touch her “mine” imagining all the things he wants to do with her. Chastising himself for not kissing her pouty pink kissable lips “what I’d give to see these deep blue eyes. Taste those lips” only a thought of seeing her was enough to tent his trousers. Getting lost in her eyes frozen to the spot was becoming his obsession.      Stomping back through the house to his deep blue Maserati SUV, he never told her. The colour matched her eyes, couldn’t stop himself having it, wanted a reminder of her breath catching eyes with him wherever he went. Walking to his car as quick as his tented trousers would let him, getting back to his city condo, two spacious bedrooms no expense spared making it a home away from home while he was working during the week. Only room that didn’t remind him of her was in his gym. She helped him decorate it all, he wanted everything she liked helping to convince her to come over often. Worked well she liked to be away from her family home as often as they’d allow, Riley always said “doesn’t feel like home when you can’t touch the furniture” she had great taste but he never could get her to stay over. Her parents would not approve before marriage they’d just worry of the high society backlash, he on the other hand was worried about rushing her. Knowing he was her mate if he started, he wouldn’t be able stop, he had to hide his wolf till she was ready for all of him, she was human. She may not take to his dominant possessive ways well, him being an Alpha male in all ways was great for his pack but could be a problem to his beautiful mate. Riley always did what they asked of her. Stroking her pictures on the walls walking through his house “if I had you back. I wouldn’t let you leave” grunting at their pictures together. Needing a cold shower to calm his inner caveman. Thoughts of running away with her always resulting the same, fisting his c**k till he was spent. Never enough to satisfy but enough to take the edge off from running the streets like a barbarian claiming his woman. Lying in bed feeling sorry for himself, cursing himself for not finding her already, it’s been too long with no sign of her. He can feel she still breathe, may not of completed the mating but he knows in his gut he’d feel her loss if anything happened to her.      He’s scoured the park so many times in both forms to track her down, his pack out as often as they can scouring the state looking for her. Going so far to talk to an old cop friend to investigate the security feeds, not that James knows about that. James being the chief now puts him in a tight spot going through red tape. James making chief helps the pack when they get into sticky situations with the humans, unfortunately means he doesn’t know all the details of the goings on with the pack, him being human he doesn’t find it offensive when notices they keep things from him for his safety and the packs. Been friends long enough that he knows enough to keep himself from asking questions he won’t get the answers to.      Standing at his window staring out at the park again, all he ever finds himself doing when he’s out of the office. Turned up late more times than he can count, speaking to his assistant “an advantage of being the boss” owning his own firm, his father leaving it to him after he retired. He’d worked tirelessly to get the company bigger more powerful when she wasn’t around to enjoy it with him “doesn’t seem worth it now” muttering to himself. Self-pity weighing him down, liquor cabinet getting refilled every other day now. Not that it does more than burn his throat with every swallow. Even his daily work out doesn’t take away the heavy weight in his chest. Needing to run let his wolf out, he’s pacing inside trying to tear his way out “calm down” muttering to his wolf. Pushing himself harder than he has before, never been so built pushing himself to higher limits trying to keep his wolf and mind in check. Going around and around in circles, park, office, home, work-out, park again never finding anything to stop the ache in his heart.        Phone ringing taking him away from his focus on the park, staring at the I’D withheld number, attempting not to get his hopes up “what” coming out more growl than speech. Crackle coming over the speaker “I think we’ve found something of your girl” jumping into action “tell me everything now” pacing between his black leather corner seat and the front door, “I’ve found a connection to her and this underground ring. A tall white guy watching her for a few days before she disappeared. He stays well-hidden looks like he knows where the cameras are around the park. If he’s dodgy then he probably knows how to stay hidden. I’m still trying to find him but the few grainy bits I can find all point to one guy” Maddox connection barely takes a breath. “Tall maybe six-foot entourage close behind him but he’s keeping close eye on your girl. No glasses or anything distinguishable, dark jeans leather jacket cracks his knuckles when she talks to someone. Honestly, the guy looks a bit like an animal”. Listening to his friend over the phone barely breathing “your telling me some thug was watching her and you’ve only just seen him!” Maddox shouting not bothering to calm down his temper, he’s furious. Pacing his condo again “I know your mad, but he was seriously hidden like ninja level hidden” pulling himself back against the wall, attempting to gain himself and not launch his phone through the window. Taking deep breathes “ok, so you’ve seen some guy watching her, keep looking for him. If he’s the one that took her then he could be our only lead to finding her” trying to sound calmer than he felt. The idea that another man has what’s his is not sitting right with him. Must find her. Someone took her from me.     Regaining his head looks at the phone still in his hand, Pete speaking through the speaker, falling on deaf ears. Pulling himself together “send me what you have of him. I need a face to look for” grunting back at Pete.     Wearing out the floor, waiting for a face to look for, someone to focus on. Picking his phone up every couple of seconds itching to walk out his front door and find him. Minutes feeling like hours the CCTV footage comes through, staring at the footage seeing her again, clutching his chest. Not thinking of seeing her last moments, he was so focused on finding the one that took her, seeing her sat on a bench in central park takes his breathe away. Keeping the image just on her. Staring at her. Sinking to the floor watching her, only she exists in this moment, phone starts ringing in his hand “did you get it? See him?” barely hearing Pete “yes I got it, cheers” hanging up before Pete can respond, clicking back onto the footage. Attempting to look beyond her, physically covering her face with his thumb, making himself look beyond her. Staring at the screen trying to see the man, barely a silhouette behind her, keeping himself hidden from the cameras he knows where they are “who are you” whispering to his phone. Watching the screen in slow motion trying to catch a glimpse of him, following his every action reading into every movement, plugging his phone into his TV to get a better look. Staring at the now stretched pixels, “I will find you” getting more and more agitated the more he’s watching, losing the man in the screen multiple times. Throwing his sofa cushions towards the screen at every loss of him, needing to see him, find him. Waiting for a moment he moves to catch a better glimpse of him, the man finally moves closer to Riley his back to the camera, only his outline visible. No distinguishable features from the man except his entourage that doesn’t seem to be too far away from him, loitering on the street corner keeping him in sight but not stopping him. If we found this sooner my pack would have been all over it to catch his scent but too much time has passed to find him our way.     Hidden man moving closer to her, she’s sitting on the bench barely moving her head as he approaches, like a tiger going in for the kill. Maddox getting closer to the screen screaming “get away from her” not being able to help himself. Watching as the man sits next to his girl, facing her, talking to her “how dare he speak to her! Get away from her!” launching his fist into the wall below his screen without a thought. The man infuriating him, sitting next to his girl how dare he watches him talk to his girl. Seeing her face lite up smiling at him how can he keep her attention so vividly, making her smile to much at him. Leaning in he’s getting closer and closer to her staring into the screen his grip tightening on the remote playing it as slow as the tv will allow. Watching his every move, making his girl smile flirting with her.                                   Riley       Staring into my tiny cell the small bulb floating from the ceiling letting me stare at the tiny space surrounding me. Grey four walls a toilet with the smallest shower I have ever seen and this dingy greyed mattress I am currently calling a bed. this is my home now, I’ve lost count of the days I’ve been stuck her, used for my captor’s amusement. He does what he wants to me, I’m not strong enough to fight him anymore, craving his attention. I hate that I love how gentle he can be with me, when he’s not turning me black and blue his caress is gentle. He doesn’t talk I don’t even know his name, barely remember how he got me here I think he was the guy talking to me in the park. Sitting in the park having a rest getting some inspiration for a new painting, sketching out some ideas when this man approached me, he was sweet when he first sat down. Talking to me about what I was sketching, laughing at the people in the park just living their lives not realising we were watching and talking about them. I think it’s the same man who holds me captive but now a voice comes over the speaker, telling me to put on the blindfold so I don’t see his face when he comes to see me now. Sometimes he comes to beat me, others to touch me. He keeps me hold up in this room in different places depending on what he’s going to do to me. I hate how much I think about his gentle caress when I’m left her alone, waiting to hear his voice over the speaker. I miss him. I know that is a horrible thought, missing my captor but when he is being a person not an abuser, he is nice. Gentle even, I’ve found a way to breathe through the beatings sinking into myself. Having the rest of the room drift away and I can be in my own mind keeping me safe, going to my safe place is my art studio, always found peace painting new life onto a black canvas. Keeps me breathing when the beatings get bad. When he really wants to hurt me he does without a second thought he leaves me bleeding, he manages to gain himself enough to put me back onto the bed when he’s finished leaving a first aid kit but doesn’t usually come back to being the gentle version of himself for a few days I guess. There’s no light in here except the small bulb floating above my head, no time of day and night. I wish I knew how long I was here I am forgetting everything from before this cell. Only remember by art studio because it’s my haven that his beatings can’t take away, can take everything else from me but not that.      Lying on my incredibly uncomfortable cot bed staring at the bulb, tracing over my latest bumps and bruising. His voice comes over the speaker “trace them slower. Like seeing the damage, I do to that porcelain skin” freezing at his voice, wanting to make him happy, when he’s happy with me the beatings are less harsh. I found that out early do what he says when he says it and I won’t be hurt at all or as much if I fight him. I’ve come to crave his gentleness talking to me as he strokes my arms, the more he speaks the more I want of him. His hands come down on me more times than I like but having him so close, I can’t help but want his touch more leaving bruised skin for him to take care of after. Feeling my new marks, I caress my stomach slower, doing what he asks has become everything to me, need to keep him happy with me.     Thankfully, he still lets me wash and dress without his voice coming over the speaker, not sure my nerves could handle hearing his husky voice when I’m washing the fresh wounds knowing he’s the one that caused them. He enjoys my pain. I can hear his smile as he puts me down on the bed, my breathe hitching wincing in pain as the new wounds bleed. New clothes appear at the end of my cot every couple of days, old ripped up bloodied ones disappearing, always the same clothes. Plain bland white underwear a black pair of joggers and white t-shirt. All generic and plain until they get shredded by his attacks.     His voice always husky, appearing like he’s in control but I know he just anticipating the next beating. Hear his arrival from his boot scuffs as he enters, the door not even giving away. He’s coming for me.       When the beatings over sometimes he stays and helps me clean up the blood, caressing my skin, soothing the red patches across my skin. Whispering sweet words in my ear keeping my blindfold on, never allowing me to see his face. Only feel his him cascading down my skin helping path up my new flesh wounds. Keeping himself back during his beatings, I can feel him go easy on me, only marking my flesh not making it so I lose limbs. Keeping my face and neck clear of gashes, “your eyes are going to be the death of me kitten, those lips look so tasty” he always says, speaking like were together. That this isn’t some cell he’s keeping me locked away in but our bedroom after a fight. Talking to me like no-one else ever has, I’m his in this room to do with as he wants. Feeling him his hands in my hair, breathing me in “so sweet” whispering in my ear “one day I’m going to bite your neck and you’ll be mine”       Looking down at my ripped joggers new s***h marking my thighs, stroking over the new ones with the old.  Criss-cross markings me, given up counting them “kitten with new stripes” comes over the speaker his husky voice making my insides melt as I reveal new markings for him to see. Never knew he could watch me, watch me sleep, watch me get dressed when I found new clothes on the end of my bed after a shower. Now I understand how they always appeared when I wasn’t looking, he knew when I was asleep or in the shower. First time he’s made it clear that he can see me, telling me that he watches me. Thrill rushes through me that this big powerful man watches me. It’s wrong to want his attention but I can’t help craving it, feeling older scars, showing them to the empty cell hoping to hear his voice again.      Talking into the empty cell “can I have something to draw with? Please? I’m going insane with nothing to do” pleading with the air surrounding me. Hoping he’s still watching me, stroking my scars to keep his attention on me. Lying back on the bed waiting for him “if you keep touching your scars like that, I’ll be coming down there soon to tan your hide” smile creeps across her face at his husky voice. Wanting him to come down, see him, touch him. Never allowed to touch him back. Only feeling his touch, hurting her feeling her scars while making more.     Listening for his voice over the speaker again, waiting for him to command her again. “Blindfold on. Lie down” husky voice deeper than normal speaking straight into me, sending chills down my spine. What will he do to me now I’ve provoked him?     Feet shuffling as he gets closer. My breathe hitching, breathing in his scent that always lingers in here with me. Four footsteps     He’s not alone.   Fear spiking through me, shiver down my spine and not the kind I usually get when he’s close. Something’s wrong. I can feel it, this isn’t going to be like when he normally comes to see me.        I’m in trouble.