Free My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 by Marita A. Hansen

she
can come back and keep my amore company.”
    The guard indicated for me to follow
him. I got up without issue, my gaze flicking to Jagger as I headed
for the door.
    “ Take that ring off, you’re mine
now,” he said to Honey.
    She let go of him and pulled it off,
handing it over to him.
    I rounded the corner and entered my
room, sick that she could throw away her husband’s love just like
that. I could never give my memory of Matt up for another man,
especially not one who had kidnapped me—it was obscene.
    I sat down on my bed, watching as the
door closed, the sound of the bolt locking me in. I heard a happy
squeal come from the next room. I stood up and headed for the wall,
placing an ear to it. I heard muffled voices, but couldn’t
distinguish anything that was said.
    I moved to the door, checking how solid it
was, then went into the windowless bathroom, hoping there would be
something in there that could help me escape. But there was nothing
of use, only a bath and a washbasin, not even a mirror that I could
break to use as a weapon.
    I went back to the bed and lay
down, my mind going to Matt. I closed my eyes, bringing up an image
of him. He had been tall, much taller than Jagger, bulkier too, the
physique of an athlete, a man who loved to spend his time outdoors.
I smiled at the memory of his excitement when I had agreed to a
hike through Yellowstone. I had teased him, telling him he was like
a boy with the way he’d acted over it. He had picked me up and
thrown me on the bed, proving he was all man. And he was all man, the top
undercover agent in our department, the one person my boss said
would never fail. But Matt had failed, Frano D’Angelo shooting him
down in cold blood.
    But I wouldn’t fail.
    No
    Matter
    What.

 
     
     
    7
    I woke to the sound of the door
opening. I shot up in bed, only to be greeted by the
guard.
    “ You’re going back to
Honey’s room,” he said.
    I pushed off the bed and followed him
into the next room. Honey was sitting on the bed fully clothed, her
happy face the only thing lighting up the place. She was wearing a
pretty yellow sundress, while her long blonde hair was brushed and
lay loose over her shoulders. She looked sweet, the opposite to
Jagger’s explicit sensuality, the two opposing elements, nothing
alike.
    “ Hello,” she
said.
    I sat next to her, feeling self-conscious
about my nudity, even more so now she was clothed.
    “ Are you alright?” she
asked, her expression turning to concern.
    “ I want to go home,” right after I kill
Frano. But I
also wanted to learn more about Jagger, and whether he was really
being forced. The thought of torturing Frano to find out almost
made me smile.
    “ I’ll ask Jagger if he can
help you too,” she said.
    “ He won’t help, he hurt
me.”
    “ Only because he was
forced.”
    “ It didn’t feel that way
when he slapped me over and over again, then sliced my
foot.”
    She frowned. “Frano would find out if
he didn’t do as he was told. I’ve seen bruises on him. Frano hurts
him. Alberto does too. He doesn’t have a choice, and it kills him
hurting us.”
    I breathed out, wondering whether my
information on Jagger was incorrect. I’d never anticipated this,
didn’t expect Jagger to be anything other than a sadist pig, the
intel collected by my unit depicting him as a monster, not an abuse
victim forced to commit heinous crimes.
    The door opened, making both of us
look up. My heart stopped as two men entered the room with the
guard, one of them Alberto, the other resembling the photo I’d seen
of Frano: the new don of the D’Angelo family. He looked scruffier
than the image, the stubble on his face adding to it. But instead
of taking away from his looks, it gave him a more sensual
appearance, as though he’d just gotten out of bed and had thrown on
his clothes haphazardly, his mussed up hair adding to the sexual
aura surrounding him. But to me, he was an ugly monster, his
handsome mask unable to hide his