Free Hidden Currents by Christine Feehan

fear. “Stavros,” she tried again. “I don’t know what I’m doing or saying. Please don’t do this.”
    “You want another man? Is that what you want?”
    She shook her head. “No.”
    “I think you do. I think you’re such a little slut you want another man. I don’t seem to be satisfying you.”
    “That’s not true. I don’t want anyone else.” She didn’t want anyone touching her. The thought of Stavros sharing her, forcing her to accept other men, made bile rise in her churning stomach.
    Stavros stared down at her for a long moment while the wind lashed at the windows and lightning forked across the dark clouds. He leaned over, his face pressed close to hers. “I think you need to know who you belong to, Sheena. I think we need to drive that lesson home.”
    He waited and she knew he expected her to acknowledge his ownership. “Please,” she said brokenly, “I can’t think clearly.”
    He sighed and stood up, one hand trailing over her breast. Without another word he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Elle couldn’t stop crying, the pain in her head making it impossible to think, the fear of what Stavros might do choking her. She’d never seen him like that. And she never wanted to again.
    She waited for what seemed like hours, but she knew it wasn’t that long. Her arms ached and every bit of air on her skin intensified the pain. She wanted to give in to Stavros, just end it all before she lost who and what she was. She knew now how the women taken prisoner and forced into the human trafficking rings felt and it made her sick that she couldn’t help them. She’d nearly sent word to Dane that she was certain that Stavros wasn’t involved, and yet, he was. He had been all along. From the information Stavros had let drop, she knew his twin, Evan, was alive and that he, along with his bikers, kidnapped the women. Then Stavros used his freighters to send the women all over the world. Evan was alive after all, raised by his mother away from the father. She’d taken one twin and left the other behind.
    The wind slammed into the window and she lifted her head to stare out at the raging storm even as she felt Jackson, much stronger this time, slide into her mind. She didn’t want him there. It was too late for hope. There was only humiliation that Jackson would share everything that happened—that was going to happen—that he could see her like this, know what Stavros had done and was still doing to her. If she built enough energy and waited for her moment, she could use the storm and short-circuit her brain. It was the only way out that she could see.
    You were there for me, Elle, when I was tied and beaten like a dog and thrown into that rat hole. You were there for me. Don’t try to talk, and don’t try to take your own life. I see what you’re thinking, but if you turn yourself into a vegetable, what do you think will happen to your sisters? To me? Live, Elle. Believe I’ll come for you.
    Elle closed her eyes against Jackson’s voice. Against the small flare of hope that lingered. Stavros was too powerful. He had too much money. No one could ever escape him, least of all her.
    You’re just tired, baby, worn out with fighting him. I know where he’s keeping you now and I’ll stay with you until I come for you. You aren’t alone anymore.
    She wanted to be alone. She didn’t want him to see into her mind, the conflict there, to see the terrible things Stavros had done to her body and soul.
    Be strong for me. I was strong for you when they ripped me apart and took everything I was. You know what they did to me. You’re the only soul in this world that does. Be strong for me, Elle. I need you to be strong.
    She was too tired, too far gone. There was little left of Elle Drake. She wasn’t as strong as Jackson had been. She’d admired him so much, believed in him and then he’d just let her walk away. Was it the children he didn’t want? Or her?
    I wanted both. I