Red Eye | Season 3 | Episode 2

by Riley, Claire C.

  Barrett let out a dark laugh. “Dumbo here thought it would be a good idea to try and rescue you before your big debut tomorrow.”

  I turned back to Nolan, my glare still in place. “What were you thinking?” I swiped at a particularly bad gash under his right eye and he winced.

  “Easy, Rose.” He grabbed my hand in his and forced me to stop and look at him. “I’m not leaving you here to die.”

  My cheeks felt hot, and it wasn’t until he reached up and swiped away my tears that I realized I was crying. I clasped his hand in mine, holding it against my cheek as I stared down into his broken face with growing sadness.

  “You have to go, Nolan,” I said, my words filled with grief. “It’s the only way any of us are getting out of here.”

  “Not happening,” he grunted, pushing himself up to a sitting position. His body only swayed a little. And I knew he was trying to look strong for me.

  I turned back to Barrett. “Will you do something good for once in your life and get him out of here? Please.”

  Barrett smiled—that smile I’d come to recognize as the one where he knew he had something over you—and if I hadn’t been due to die soon, I would have been worried. As it was, I had nothing to lose.

  “All right, time to go.” Barrett took a couple of steps towards us, and I wasn’t sure why, but my heart sunk. I guess I’d still been holding on to some hope that he’d think of a way out of this. The Sins were “his” people, after all. But it seemed I had been wrong and this really was the end.

  “Come near me and I’ll rip your goddamned head off,” Nolan snapped.

  Barrett chuckled. “I’m just doing what the little lady here asked me to. She is the boss, after all, right?”

  “Yes!” I said at the same time as Nolan replied no. “Nolan, stop being so bloody stubborn and just do as you’re told for once. You can’t save everyone; that’s not how the world works. At least not anymore.”

  Nolan pushed himself to the edge of the bed. “World never worked that way to begin with, Rose. My whole life I’ve been saving people. What makes you think that I’m going to change now?”

  “Because I’m begging you,” I replied honestly. “I’m absolutely begging you to go—get the hell out of here. Save Sam. Keep her safe for me.”

  “Not to piss on your plan, Rose, but Sam’s mine and I’ll be doing the whole ‘keeping her safe’ routine, so she don’t need this broken-down old man for that.” Barrett tipped an invisible hat at Nolan. “He can barely look after himself, never mind my woman.”

  “Fuck you,” Nolan gritted out.

  I stood up and walked towards Barrett, feeling angry and protective and hateful all at the same time. I pointed at him and laughed. It was bitter and dark and full of my hate for him and this place and this ugly world.

  “And what makes you think she’ll have anything to do with you now that she knows you kept me and Nolan from her? Now that she knows you left us to die, do you really think she’ll go anywhere near you?” I said with narrowed eyes.

  Barrett leaned back against the wall, his hands shoved in his pockets, and if it wasn’t for the smarmy look on his face, I would have believed he was sulking. As it were, he looked me up and down, taking in my barely clothed body and my hands balled into fists at my sides. His face had scratches down both sides; they looked fresh, and that gave me some hope.

  “Because she’s in my bed right now, Rose. She’s chosen where she’s gonna lay, and she chose me.” His smile widened as my face fell and my hope burned up in a ball of disgust.

  How could she?

  I’d thought she cared about Nolan and me. That I was like a sister to her. But she knew that Barrett had kept our presence here away from her and she still wanted to be with him. My heart felt heavy with the burden of her betrayal, and I felt almost stupid at asking for her freedom when she was happy to stay here with Barrett.

  I felt Nolan’s arm wrap around my waist and pull me to his side. We sat together and I tried to keep everything together. Tried not to cry at the loss of my friend and at her disloyalty.

  “But,” Barrett said, raising an eyebrow, “I do have a plan.”

  “A plan?” Nolan asked, his voice gruff and raw.

  I looked up at Barrett with sadness and stubbornness in my eyes. “What kind of plan?”

  “A plan to get you all out of here,” Barrett replied, moving away from the door and lowering his voice.

  Did I believe that I could really trust Barrett? No.

  Did I want to trust him? Hell no.

  Did I have a choice in either option? Also no.

  I glanced over at Nolan. He was so strong and smart. He knew war and fighting. He knew these types of people. But there was only so much one man could take, and he was clearly at his breaking point, though he was stubbornly refusing to give up even though he should do.

  “Okay,” I said with a scowl, “so what’s your plan?”

  Barrett smiled widely, looking like all his Christmases had come at once. I hated him more in that moment than ever before.

  “Well, before I tell you my plan, I need to tell you my terms,” he drolled.

  I sighed and shook my head. “Of course.” I laughed without humor. “Of course you would have terms. It is you after all, right?”

  He chuckled. “It is me, and I don’t do anything without getting something in return, Rose. You know me so well.”

  “Fine, what are your terms?” I snapped.

  His face went serious. “Sam stays with me. You don’t come between us. In fact, if she tries to come with you, you send her packing and back into my arms.”

  I frowned, more confused than ever. Why would he ask me to do this if Sam already chose him of her own volition? I realized that by asking this of me he was actually showing me his weakness. Because if he was worried, then maybe I could get her back. Maybe she wasn’t a lost cause after all. But then, just as quickly, I remembered that despite knowing Nolan and I were trapped here and Barrett hadn’t tried to help us, she’d still gone back to him willingly. I’d offered my life up to save her and Nolan and this was how she betrayed me?

  “Deal,” I replied.

  I stood up and held my hand out and Barrett took it in his, shaking on our deal with a smug grin on his face.

  “So,” I continued, “how do you planning on getting us out of here?”

  Episode 3 coming

  November 12th!

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Claire C. Riley is a USA Today and International Bestselling author.

  She’s a genre-jumping book nerd who likes to write about psycho stalkers, anti-heroes, and the end of the bloody world!

  Gryffindor. Targaryen. Zombie slayer.

  She lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, three daughters, and ridiculously naughty rescue beagle, Dogface. She loves clothes with pockets in (especially dresses) loves avocados and was obsessed with the film ‘Heathers’ when she was younger.

  She also thinks Eli needs to stop using the word gushing.

  Also by Claire C. Riley

  Post-Apocalypse/dystopian:

  Odium The Dead Saga series

  Odium Origins Series

  Out of the Dark

  Red Eye The Armageddon Series – co-authored with Eli Constant

  Thicker than Blood Series – co-authored with Madeline Sheehan

  Paranormal Romance:

  Limerence. (The Obsession Series)

  Limerence II (The Obsession Series)

  Twisted Magic Raven’s Cove

  Romantic suspense/thriller:

  Beautiful Victim

  Fragments of Delores

  Horror:

  Blood Claim

  MC Romance:

  Ride or Die a Devil’s Highwaymen series

  Nomad the Devil’s Highwaymen Series:

  Crank #1, Sketch #2, Battle #3, Fighter #4, Cowboy #5

  Tame his Beast duet

  New Adult Romance:

  Wrath #3 the Elite Seven Seriesr />
  Contemporary Romance:

  Shut Up & Kiss Me

  Available in paperback, eBook, and audiobook, and almost all in Kindle Unlimited!

  CONTACT LINKS:

  Website: www.clairecriley.com

  Claire C. Riley FB page: https://www.facebook.com/ClaireCRileyAuthor/

  Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GDpF3I

  Reader Group: Riley’s Rebels: https://www.facebook.com/groups/ClaireCRileyFansGroup/

  Newsletter Sign-up: http://bit.ly/2xTY2bx

  IG: https://www.instagram.com/redheadapocalypse/

  @ClaireCRiley

  Eli Constant, also writing under the pens Eliza Grace & Ellie Meadows, is the author of The Victoria Cage Necromancer Series.

  A diverse speculative fiction author, seeped in heady flavors of horror and the paranormal, Eli isn’t afraid to be a bleeding-heart non-conformist & she supports the LGBTQ community, equal rights and treatment for minority communities, the importance of the arts in education, a woman’s right to choose, free speech, and more. Generally, she thinks ‘treat others how you want to be treated’ is the damn golden rule to beat all others, but she also recognizes there are times when kindness has to give way to self-preservation and social revolution.

  She lives in the states with her loving husband, three daughters, and whoodle pup Miles. Also, if there’s good sushi around, don’t get in her way.

  Keep in touch with the author online.

  http://www.authoreliconstant.com

  Twitter – Eli Constant

  Facebook – Eli Constant

  Facebook – Joint Fan Page

  Instagram @Poe.Some.Sugar.On.Me

  Books by Eli Constant:

  The Victoria Cage Series

  Garden of Lilies

  Water of Souls

  Body of Ash

  Hellhole Bay [arriving end of 2020]

  Junkyard Fae [arriving 2021]

  Cat O’Shea Shifter Novels

  A Victoria Cage Spin-off

  Catfights in Faeland [arriving 2021]

  Pixie Dust Panic [arriving 2021]

  The Dead Tree Series

  Invasion

  Lifelines

  Hybrids [arriving end of 2020]

  Futurity [arriving 2021]

  The Shadow Forest Series

  Eliza Grace

  Magic Burned

  Spell Tricked

  Curse Kissed

  A Shade of Hades

  Eliza Grace

  The Lottery

  The Harvest [arriving end of 2020]

  The Rapture [arriving 2021]

  King of Castleton

  Ellie Meadows

  Bully

  Brat

  Brawl

  Balls [arriving Fall 2020]

  Heart Notes – A College Romance Ellie Meadows

  The Water is Sweeter – A Dark Fantasy Romance Eli Constant

  Scatter My Ashes – A Gothic Romance Eli Constant & Bokerah Brumley

  Cowritten Series

  Red Eye: The Armageddon Series – co-authored with Eli Constant

  Darwin’s Fall – co-authored with B.V. Barr [re-releasing end of 2020]

  Born to Darkness – The Bratva Mafia Twins duet – co-authored with Claire C. Riley

  More from the authors:

  Have you read:

  Beautiful Victim by Claire C. Riley

  The perfect victim, or the perfect villain?

  Read on for a sneak peak!

  The part before the beginning of the end…

  There’s so much blood.

  I’ve never seen so much blood before.

  It paints the walls, dripping from the ceiling. It’s a living, breathing thing that’s being absorbed into the very foundations of the woodwork. Drops and drips. Splatters and puddles. I don’t know where I begin and the blood ends. We are one and the same.

  “We have to go.”

  I nod. But still my feet don’t move.

  My heart is pounding.

  My stomach is rolling and turning. I think I might throw up. The horror embeds itself into my skin. It will never let me go. I’m its prisoner. Now.

  Forever.

  The blood and me. Together.

  I clench my hands. Nails breaking skin. I feel raw and bruised. My eyes are burning. My body is on fire. I wonder how long until I incinerate. Fade away into nothing.

  Only the blood…

  “We have to go. Now.”

  Urgent. Desperate.

  Sad?

  No, not sad. I shake my head. I scratch my arms. I grind my teeth.

  No. Not sad.

  Blood smells.

  I didn’t know that before now. It smells so bad that I want to stuff my nose with cotton balls to stop the scent from crawling its way inside.

  But I still can’t move. I can’t turn around and walk away. I can’t run from this. I can’t even leave the room, so how are we going to escape?

  We can’t.

  That’s it, isn’t it? This is going to be with us both forever. There is no running from this horrible, horrible thing. It binds us together. Her and me. Me and the blood.

  But it’s the right thing. In my heart I know that.

  I look away from the body and down at my shaking hands. Hands I don’t recognize as my own.

  Whose hands are these that can do so much damage?

  Who is this person that destroys without hesitation?

  I don’t know who I am anymore.

  Maybe that’s okay. I didn’t like who I was anyway.

  “Are you all right?”

  Am I all right? No, no I’m not all right.

  I feel sick again. I swallow the bile that tastes like devastation and vengeance. It’s bitter. It shreds me apart.

  I’m leaving the room. Feet moving past the death and the gore. Putting distance between us and the sins we have committed. But it’s useless. The running. The sin is me. I am the sin. We are constant companions. It will ruin me.

  It will take over my life.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  Does she believe the lie?

  Maybe she wants to.

  I want to.

  But I don’t.

  Lies fester. They annihilate. And in the end their food can’t sustain us.

  The blood sticks to my shoes. It coats my skin. It’s everywhere.

  But I love her.

  That has to be enough.

  Lies.

  They are everywhere.

  Chapter one:

  It’s 8:15pm.

  I’m normally home from work by now, but there was an extra delivery today and the guy wouldn’t stop talking to me. I know this guy’s entire life story now, and all I said to him was “how’s it going, buddy?”

  Apparently he took that as a cue to give me the lowdown on his shitty divorce and how his mother-in-law always hated him anyway. I should have told him to stop talking. I should have told him I was going to miss my bus. But I didn’t, because I’m polite. Now I’m sitting, waiting for the bus, the cold rain pelting across my back and shoulders like a hundred toy drummer boys. Their little sticks beating out a tune on my skin.

  Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat rat-a-tat…

  I look across the road and see a man hail a cab. He has a black umbrella in his hand, held high above his head to protect his slicked-back haircut and expensive suit. Fancy asshole.

  A flash of yellow in the dark night and a cab pulls up to the sidewalk. He climbs in, never even seeing me—never looking my way—and then he’s gone. On his way home, no doubt. To his big house. A beautiful wife and 2.5 kids.

  So typical.

  So normal.

  The American fucking dream. Right?

  I’m invisible. I’m a ghost. I’m a shadow among men, and I sit in the dark, wet night all alone.

  The rain continues to beat down on me. Tiny fingers trying to reach inside. To touch me all the way down to my sad, sad soul.

  Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat rat-a-tat…

  I’m soaked through
, my jeans sticking to my legs like a second skin. I don’t like the feeling. It makes me uncomfortable. I feel claustrophobic in the rain. Invisible walls closing in on me. Clothes sticking. Skin soaking.

  The bus pulls up and I stand. One foot in front of the other as I climb the small steps, feeling the trickle of the raindrops move down between the crack of my ass, and I grimace. I pay the driver, move to my seat, and sit down. The windows are fogged up and I use my wet sleeve to clear a section so I can see outside.

  The air is thick and heavy on the bus. Too many breaths. Too many people. Too much rubber and steel keeping us all trapped.

  The bus begins to move. It lurches forward, wheels splashing through the rain, wipers furiously swiping at the window. The driver whistles, happy fucking fellow that he is. Not a care in the world as he drives us from one place to the next. “Onwards and onwards,” he says each time he stops and someone gets on or off. It makes no sense. Maybe that’s why he likes to say it. Because nonsense is better than reality sometimes.

  It’s time to get off and I stand. I ask the woman next to me to move her stroller out of the way, and she does. She’s attractive, pretty features, and the kid is cute. I smile as I pass them but she scowls and looks away.

  Screw you, lady.

  Whatever happened to manners? Whatever happened to being kind and helping your fellow man? Everything is messed up. Nobody cares about each other anymore. We’re all just bustling through our lives without thinking of the next step. The next day. The next moment. As if there will always be a tomorrow.

  But there won’t be—not if we continue to live like this.

  We need to grab life with both hands, tug it to our bodies and make it ours.

  Seize the fucking day and all that.

  “Onwards and onwards,” the bus driver calls as the doors shut behind me and I’m thrust back into the rain. I wonder if it’s intentional, the way he gets the phrase wrong every time.