Slave Jade by Claire Thompson Read Free Book Online Page A

her breath. She tensed in her chains, ready for someone to burst in at any moment and shoot her.
    Several minutes passed, but the room stayed dark. She was, at least for the time being, alone and alive. She shook her legs and arms cautiously, making sure nothing was broken or hurt. Aside from the headache and the cinching handcuffs, everything seemed to be okay.
    Slowly the raging, blinding panic subsided and she was able to breathe more normally. Her nose was running from her tears, but she couldn't move her arms. She turned her head against the mattress, trying to wipe her face against it. She felt a draft on her bare skin and realized, with a dawning horror, that she was naked.
    Lisa began to cry again, this time more noisily. Finally she stopped and called out in a tentative, croaking voice, “Hello?” She realized this was stupid, even as she called. She cleared her throat and swallowed, listening hard for any sound. Someone was out there, no doubt waiting to rape and kill her, and she was calling out greetings.
    But maybe not. Maybe whoever had done this had been caught, or almost caught, and had fled. Maybe there was someone out there who could help her! Set her free!
    “Hello!” she called again, her voice wavering, but louder.
    This time she heard something and strained toward it. It was the sound of a key scraping in the lock. The door opened and she could see the silhouette of a man against the bright light of the hallway behind him.
    Suddenly the overhead light switched on, blinding her. Lisa squinted while her eyes adjusted.
    Standing before her was a young man with dark blond hair, wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t look much older than she was. He was medium height and slender, though his arms were muscular. He didn’t look like a killer. He smiled at her.
    “Hello there, Lisa. Sleep well?”
    The incongruity of his mild greeting was somehow more frightening than if he had come in waving a gun and threatening her. He knew her name. How did he know her name? Before she realized she was speaking she demanded, “How do you know my name?”
    Smiling, he held up her purse.
    “Please,” she begged, “Please, whoever you are. Please don't do this. Please let me go. Please.” She started to cry again, and the man approached her, kneeling down next to her.
    “Don't cry, Lisa. Don't cry.” He reached toward her and Lisa gasped with terror, trying desperately to avoid his touch. All she could do was twist her head away. With a firm hand, he forced her to look at him. Still smiling, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a crumpled tissue. He wiped at her cheeks and nose with it. Lisa was again discomfited by the gentle treatment when she had expected him to hit her, rape her or shoot her outright.
    The man smoothed her tangled hair back from her face. Greenish brown eyes. Small nose, thin lips, a small scar on his chin. Details she might need to identify him at a later date.
    “Lisa, I know you're frightened right now. But you'll get used to your situation soon enough. Are you thirsty?”
    Lisa hiccupped and tried to get control of herself. Identify him at a later date? Was she nuts? This man was letting her see his face. He had no intention of being identified later. He was going to kill her. Oh Jesus god, he was going to kill her.
    She was going to die.
    “Please,” she begged, her voice rising with hysteria. “Don’t kill me. Please.”
    “I don’t want to kill you, silly girl. I won’t have to—not if you behave.” He watched her with a strangely mild expression as she tried to absorb what he’d said. Then, his eyebrows knitting together as he frowned, he said in a stern voice, “I asked you a direct question. When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer. Is that understood?” As he spoke, the man gripped her throat, squeezing until she coughed and spluttered, helpless in his grasp.
    “Please, don’t choke me.” Lisa gasped and gulped for air. He was still