I lowered my gaze from his, not daring to look at him anymore. I just wanted to do this and get out of here. All I had to do was hold my sign up, do a lap of the arena, and then I could go back inside until it was round 2. Though I had noticed that there was no Round 2 sign, which of course didn’t bode well for the people in the cages.
It wasn’t my problem, I told myself as fear and desperation began to surface. These people were not my problem. I had to save myself now, because no one else was going to. I was alone, half a world away from everything I’d ever known, and no one could help me now.
The huge fat guy stood up. “These men and women are traitors. After all we’ve done for them—feeding them, clothing them, protecting them with our walls…and they tried to run without paying their debts.” He tutted, wagging his finger back and forth. “That’s not how this world is run now.”
The crowd cheered and clapped, no doubt not even really listening to a word he was saying, just glad that it wasn’t them in the cages, about to face certain death. I was no better than them, I realized.
“So now we pit man against monster in a fight to the death.”
The cheering grew louder.
“But this is no ordinary fight. We pit twenty of you against twenty of them. Survive and you’re free. Die and you become mine forever.” He sat back down, swiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.
“Off you go,” one of the men said before slapping me on the arse and pushing me forwards.
I started to walk, the gravel under my feet digging into my bare feet and my knees practically knocking. The weight of the sign felt so much heavier than it was. It was so much more than a piece of card; it was a death sentence. And I felt the weight of every death on my conscience as I passed the cage of people.
Focusing on the crowd in the stands, I kept on walking, ignoring the tears that burned my eyes and the fear and guilt that drove icy shards through my heart.
“Rose…”
I turned at the sound of his voice and I whimpered, the tears spilling down my cheeks as my feet kept on moving forwards, away from an almost unrecognizable Nolan.
His face was swollen and bloody, one eye closed, his top lip swollen to twice its size. Dried blood caked the side of his face, trailing from the top of his head and his ear.
But he was alive.
He’d survived, barely.
But now he really was going to die, and I was the executioner with my cardboard sign and my too-short dress.
Chapter Two.
Sam
“You coming to the next fight? Starts in about an hour. Shoulda been right after the first, but it got fucked ten ways to Sunday and Charlie was pissed. Nathan’s new girl freaked the fuck out.” Stash stood in the doorway of his “home,” arms crossed over his chest and his face stretched into a pleasant, lazy smile. Barrett and I had only just arrived back, and Stash had been hot on our heels apparently, gossip too juicy to mind his own business.
“If she can’t handle the fights, she ain’t gonna last long.” Barrett shrugged, obviously not giving two shits.
Stash switched gears, his gaze flicking to me, with my wet hair and the sheer dress doing nothing to conceal the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra. His eyes hovered at my chest level, taking in the sight of my nipples, which were hard and obvious as they pressed against the lightweight material sticking to my still slightly damp body.
“I’m always a good judge of size, and that dress was made for you Sam,” Stash said with a leer.
Heat rushed into my face and I looked away from the older man quickly. I hated how easily I blushed, even when I was mad at something.
“Stash.” Barrett said the single word, and like other times, it was all that was needed for Stash’s attention to leave my body and focus on the large man he called the lone wolf.
“So, you coming?” Stash acted like he hadn’t mentioned my outfit.
Barrett’s eyebrow quirked, though I doubted he was surprised by the whiplash switch back. Barrett was a good judge of character and he no doubt knew every man here better than they knew themselves. “No,” he said simply, moving closer to me and pulling me against his body with a single rough jerk. “Got better things to do.”
“I’ll bet,” Stash said, his teeth sucking in his bottom lip. “Heard as I was walking over here that Nathan’s planning to have that new girl do the sign walk next fight, despite her shit performance earlier. Bet she’ll be wearing next to nothing. Though might be covered with bruises. Nathan’s prolly given her one hell of a beating. I’ll bet you a Benjamin she loses her shit again and dies right there. Nobody gets a third chance.” The older man’s eyes twinkled and my stomach turned.
I was surrounded by the dregs of humanity. Men and women were dying nearby, pitted against the zombies for entertainment. Women were property, not even granted something as basic as shoes to protect their feet from the harsh Nevada sunburnt ground. Rose was gone. Rose was probably dead, not just gone. And Nolan too. And me? I was sexually attracted to one of the most dangerous men I’d ever met. And no matter how much I tried to fight what I was feeling for him, I couldn’t. It was stronger than me. Stronger than the red rage virus that plagued my veins.
What the hell was wrong with me…
What’s wrong with you is that it’s the end of the world.
And clinging to goodness won’t save you.
Trying to focus on beautiful things won’t save you.
It’s better to be brutal, relentless, heartless.
It’s better to sleep with a loaded gun than cling to morals that don’t exist anymore.
The world is blood.
And death.
And all I wanted to do was sleep with this dark and brutal man; let him kiss and suck and bite away all of my demons, so that I could forget everything for a while.
Forget everything. And everyone.
Because all the people I actually cared for were long gone.
I fought back the emotions that threatened to choke me. Be the bullet, spinning down the barrel. Be the pain. Don’t be the target anymore. Don’t be the prey.
“I said I’ve got better things to do, Stash.” Barrett turned to me and smashed his mouth against mine; his tongue forced its way into my mouth, parting my lips and thrashing gently. The kiss was deep, all too brief, and when he separated us, my breath was coming in tiny gasps and I was compliant and soft in his grip.
Stash chuckled, deep and low. “Mmmm,” he rumbled. “Remember that this is my house. How about paying a little rent?”
Again, the older man’s eyes roved my body, over every inch of exposed skin that prickled with goose bumps at the thoughts plain across his face. I bit down hard on my lip, forcing myself not to speak up. Not to lash out angrily and not to let the red take over. Barrett had to handle this…at least for now.
“Sure, Stash. But fair warning. I like it rough. And I’m never bottom.” Barrett’s voice was a growl of promise. My gaze widened, the mental images rushing through my brain.
“Hey now, cowboy.” Stash lifted his hands, palms facing out, in defeat. “I can’t help but keep trying. You might get tired of her and give in. An old codger can hope.”
“We’ll be seeing you, Stash.” Barrett took a step forward and I marveled at the way the other man backed out of his own home. “Thanks again for your hospitality. Just pretend there’s a sock on the knob for a while,” Barrett said as he closed the front door with a click.
Still worrying at my lower lip, I stared outside through the dingy window glass. Stash was walking away, shoulders straight and hands casually pushed into his pockets. Not a care in the world. He pressed Barrett’s buttons for the hell of it. Mine too. He probably treated everyone the same way. That seemed to be his personality. He wanted to know everything, all a person’s deepest darkest secrets, and he’d act like everything was roses, even as the world burned around him.
In a typical world—picket fences and uniform mailboxes—he’d be the kind of g
uy who’d nag the neighborhood kids to get off his lawn and peek out the windows nonstop to see what was going on, and decide whether he needed to call the cops on a few stray teens strolling past his house. Instead, though, he was wrapped up in a world of illegal crime. And somehow, he fit into the drugs and blood just as well as he would have a picture-perfect suburbia with the town watch and meetings over how tall grass could be before you got fined.
I suppose that’s how it was now.
A British girl just wanting a gap year and adventure would find a way to become a survivor and fit into chaos. A ballerina just wanting to heal from a ruined marriage and a lackluster career would find a way to become a killer and thrive on the death of it all.
Finally giving my poor lip a rest and tasting the metallic flavor of blood in my mouth from biting too hard, I looked over at my companion. Then there were people like Barrett. He didn’t need to change for the end of the world, because he’d always lived like humanity was his enemy, always operated on the principal that what he wanted, he’d take. Monsters roaming the planet didn’t change who he was. A criminal was a criminal—apocalypse or not. I knew, in my gut, that there was nothing that could make Barrett change his colors. Not even me.
“You’re thinking too hard for my liking.” Barrett’s voice was thick.
I blinked, focusing on his face and the way his dark hair had dried in a sleek waterfall around his tanned face. He closed the gap between us with one step, hooded eyes staring at me so intensely that I was sure he could read my mind.
“I’m not,” I rushed out breathily, the soapy smell of him overwhelming in the enclosed hallway.
“Liar,” he growled, hands snaking around my waist as he shoved forward to join our bodies tightly.
“Stash might come back.” I squirmed against him, the heat of the moment in the showers faded away enough that I could think properly now.
“He won’t. And I already warned you”—Barrett leaned forward, mouth so close to mine that it would take the barest movement to kiss him—“nothing’s going to stop me this time.”
I pressed against the wall behind me, but there was nowhere to retreat. No place to safeguard from what was going to happen. I didn’t understand my own hesitation this time. Back in the communal bathroom, I’d been ready and willing to give myself to Barrett. To wrap my long legs around him and let him take everything he wanted and more. It had felt right, in that moment. I’d had too much time to think since then though. Too much time to reconsider the type of person he was…
“You’re thinking again.” He tilted his head down, his breath washing over my face. “Stop fighting it,” he growled, and then our mouths met. He sucked in my lower lip and bit it gently. “Stop fighting me.” It was a command, muffled but fierce.
Barrett’s hands moved down and gripped my ass firmly. In one swift movement, he lifted me from the ground and away from the wall, his body supporting my weight like I was nothing. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck. I consented with all of my body, though my voice remained silent. I wanted this, despite my misgivings, despite all the red lights screaming at me to be smart and stay away from him. To not trust him because he’d likely throw me to the wolves if it meant saving his own ass... I just couldn’t stop myself. I wanted this as much as he did.
We both had baggage. Who the hell was supposed to decide whose was the heaviest? And did it really even matter, given the circumstances?
I remembered my earlier desire—that I wanted to forget everything. Even for a short while, Barrett could help me do that.
And yes, maybe he’d turn on me in the future.
Maybe he’d kill me.
Maybe I didn’t really care anymore.
I found Barrett’s mouth again, my nails digging lightly into his back. I kissed him like the world was ending, because it was. I’d never had this with Travis; sex with him was always reserved, with little foreplay. He got what he wanted, and we’d be finished.
This was different. Barrett was different. And maybe that was why I wanted him so much; he didn’t remind me of anything I had lost, only what I had to gain.
He turned our bodies and moved us toward the makeshift bedroom. Our tongues danced together and I kneaded at his back, hands desperate for other things to touch.
He dropped me without warning, and I bounced against the springy mattress, breath coming quickly and stomach tightening with need. When we’d rushed out of the bathroom, I hadn’t thought to clean my old clothes. Hadn’t thought about the underwear on the ground and how I didn’t have any other pairs. Barrett dropped to the floor and yanked off my boots, and then his large hands hooked behind my knees. He yanked me toward the end of the bed, the friction causing the short dress to ride up my body and bunch around my hips. I was exposed, and he looked down at me hungrily.
Not taking his eyes from my face, he grabbed me gently, thumb dipping into my body to rub firm circles. I closed my eyes, arms over my head to grip my hair as my spine arched, desperate for more of his touch, body responding as if there’d been no interruption between the showers and now.
“Oh, god,” I moaned involuntarily.
His hand left my body and I writhed in displeasure, not wanting him to stop. I looked down at him, his dark gaze drilled into me before his head lowered and his tongue licked against my body, dipping in and out of my most sensitive places and pushing softly against the now-swollen bump between my legs. I had never felt so exposed and raw, and so damn wanted. I bucked against his mouth, my hands clawing at the bed covers as he lapped against me.
I felt the pleasure build fast and furiously, coming against him as he held my hips and refused to let me thrash away from him. I rode the wave down, sparks of thrill rocketing through my quaking body and making my pulse quicken. Barrett continued moving his tongue against me even after my body calmed, and the second orgasm hit me without warning. I screamed out against the sensation, this time reaching down and pushing his head away from my body.
“Give a girl a second,” I gasped breathlessly, my hands going to my chest.
“That’s not my style, darlin’,” he replied with a dark look. He stood, stepping out of his own boots and undoing his pants to push them down his body to reveal his nakedness underneath.
He was thick and hard. So ready. I licked my lips, staring at the length of him. He looked down at me, his hand stroking himself now, a hunger on his face that reminded me of a lion ready to go in for the kill. “Take off the dress.”
I nodded, lifting to my knees and pulling the dress off my body without hesitation. We’d come too far now; I’d come to far now. There was no backing out of this, whatever this was. Barrett’s free hand reached forward and kneaded one of my breasts, fingers digging in hard enough to make me squeak in both pain and pleasure. His mouth quirked at that, eyes smoldering and long, loose black hair wild. Both his hands moved to my shoulders and he pulled me toward him with a firm gentleness. Barrett watched me with intent, his dark gaze telling me what he wanted.
Crawling on all fours, I wrapped fingers around his length, stroking up and down before wrapping my lips around him. He didn’t wait for me to move my mouth and pull him in more deeply. He shoved his hips forward sharply, thrusting into me until I was choking against the fullness of him and he was groaning with need. His hands sunk deep into my hair, gripping the strands for anchor. He took my mouth, pumping in and out. My eyes watered as I let him. I opened wider for him, my hands moving to his ass to pull him in even deeper, to show him that I could take it—take him. I wasn’t the prude little ballerina when I was with him. I was everything I never thought I could be. But Barrett…Barrett was everything he’d promised and more.
And he hadn’t lied to Stash.
He wasn’t a bottom.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, I tasted saltiness at the back of my throat and Barrett pulled himself out, hands gripping under my arms and pulling me up to my knees to face him. He kissed me roughly, the kiss
almost desperate as the taste of him mingled with the taste of me.
His hands slid between our bodies and found my breasts again, kneading at them and pulling sharply on my nipples. I gasped softly against his mouth and he rumbled in response.
“Enough,” he snarled, and pushed me away, and I fell without a fight down onto the bed. My hands reached for him, but he ignored me and grabbed my ankles, pulling me closer to him and thrusting two fingers into my body. I gasped as he strummed my body, playing me like an instrument he’d been playing all his life. “Wet and fuckin’ ready,” he growled deeply, his nostrils flaring, and my god he sounded so animalistic, so raw and delicious, that I groaned. A noise unlike any sound I’d made before came from deep within me.
My vision turned pink, but I wasn’t losing control; not even a little bit. In fact, I felt more in control than I’d ever been. The monster inside me liked this. It needed this. It needed him.
Barrett smiled a darkly delicious smile as he gazed down at me, his jaw ticking. He reached out and clasped my jaw in his grip, holding my gaze hostage with his.
“There she is,” he rumbled, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it.
I barely had time to ask him what he meant before he was on top of me, pulling my legs up to wrap around his waist as he sunk every inch of his thick length into my body. I throbbed around him, a fresh wave of pleasure rocking my core.
This was what I needed too, not just the rage inside that always seemed at its boiling point. We were in sync for the first time—the blood-hungry darkness that was changing me and the beautiful creature that used to be me. We danced, in tandem, to the music Barrett was making for us.
Him, and me. His body on mine making me forget just for a minute.
There was still an undercurrent of pain.
There was still the world outside these walls.
There was still life and death…so much death.
Red Eye | Season 3 | Episode 2 Page 2
