“What?” Demi asks.
“They’re here to fuck with us.” I sigh. Not in the mood. I’m pissed off at Cole, and he wants to play some stupid game. Typical.
Demi looks over at me, and a smile covers her softly lit face. “Then let’s play.” She releases my arm and spins around. Walking backward, she grabs her long bleach blond hair and starts putting it up in a messy ponytail with the hair tie around her wrist. “I’ll meet you at the exit.”
Then there was one.
I stand in the middle of the tunnel by myself and close my eyes. I listen for any sign of movement but can’t hear anything. Opening them, I take a step forward but stop. I feel him. Like a noose wrapped around my neck, pulling me back. Cole has this way about him that no matter how pissed and destructive I can be, he can be worse. He can hold out longer. He can be relentless. And we both like the fight. It’s like foreplay for us.
“Why are you here?” I ask again, not even bothering to turn around.
I’m met with silence.
My hands fist. “Well, whatever you plan on doing is a waste of your time. Go home.”
The front of his body presses into my back. His arm comes up and wraps around my waist. Then his breath hits my ear. “You know it turns me on when you’re pissy, sweetheart.” His voice is barely a whisper.
It makes me shiver, and I hate that even more. That’s the downfall of love; they know you can’t stay mad at them. They know exactly what to do for forgiveness. Even when they don’t deserve it. “Fuck you, Cole!”
His hips press into my back, letting me know he’s enjoying this. “You always could read my mind.”
“I …”
He lets go of my waist, grabs my upper arm, and yanks me into a narrow hallway that leads to a small room. This place is like a fucking maze. No wonder it said it could take hours to get through the tunnels. He slams the door shut behind us. The walls are covered in fake blood splatter. A large square bale of hay sits in the corner with a scarecrow seated on it. His right hand holds a machete that’s dripping blood onto the stone floor. Cole walks over to it, reaches into his back pocket, and flips open his black knife. Then he stabs the scarecrow in the leg.
“What the fuck, Cole?” After a moment of silence, I demand, “What if that had been a real man?”
“Then he would have screamed like a little bitch.” He yanks it out and turns to face me.
I look at the knife in his hand and then back and narrow my eyes at him. “What if I stabbed you in the leg?” I want to stab him in the neck right now. Fucking bastard showing up here when he knows I’m pissed and want nothing to do with him at the moment. “It’ll probably turn you on,” I spit out.
The corners of his lips curve upward. “You know what pain does to me.”
The bastard loves it.
He flips the knife shut and then places it back into his pocket before pushing his body into mine.
“Cole,” I growl.
“Would you rather him be a real person? Hmm? Want an audience? You didn’t seem to mind that guy touching you.”
Oh, this bastard … I go to knee him, but he’s faster and blocks me.
He laughs at me. Laughs. “Why do I get special treatment?”
“Because I hate you,” I snap.
His laughter fades quickly. He leans down, placing his lips on my neck. He wraps one hand around my waist, and the other tangles in my messy bun.
“Cole …”
“Where did he touch you?” he demands.
My body tenses. How long has he been following me?
“Here?” His hand slides down to cup my ass over my yoga pants. “How about here?” His free hand releases my bun and squeezes my breast.
“No,” I growl and shove him away. “You think I’d let that happen?”
His hand wraps around my throat, and he shoves me into a blood-covered wall. My anger rises while my body breaks out in goose bumps. He presses into me, and his blue eyes narrow. That fire that I know all too well burns with intensity, making the room grow hot.
“He better not have,” he growls. “Know why?” He doesn’t allow me to answer. “Because this ass is mine. Those tits are mine.” He leans in closer, our lips almost touching. “That fucking pussy is mine. Every part of you belongs to me, sweetheart.” Then he kisses me in Cole Reynolds’ fashion. It’s aggressive. Possessive. Demanding my attention. My body comes alive for him like it always does when he kisses me. This is when I feel who he really is. His anger. His fear. This man hides so much from the world, but he can’t hide from me. His demons call to me, demanding to be fed, and I willingly let him feast off me.
His hand tightens in my hair, and I moan into his mouth. He holds me pinned to the wall, taking my breath away. His knee forces its way between my legs, and I whimper.
My hands fall to his jeans. My fingers moving as quick as they can to get them undone. Just as I reach into his boxers, he pulls away from me. Grabbing my arm, he yanks me from the wall and turns me to face the scarecrow. He yanks my yoga pants down my thighs along with my black lace thong. Then his hands push on my back to bend me over.
My hands slap the hay. I’m panting, bent over staring at the scarecrow in a plaid shirt and blood-soaked overalls. His head is covered with burlap that has black barbwire around his neck and black stitching for his eyes. Along with his wide and evil-looking smile. If I hadn’t seen Cole stab it, I would swear it just moved. If I didn’t know it was made from straw, I would swear I could feel it breathing on my face. It just makes this even more exciting.
My heart pounds, but my pussy tightens. We’re really gonna do this. Right here and now. “I’m mad at you,” I manage to get out even though my knees shake with anticipation.
He just chuckles from behind me. “When has that ever stopped me, sweetheart?”
His hand flattens on my back, keeping me in place, and I know he’s ready. No foreplay. No wasting time. He’s about to fuck me in this haunted tunnel in a room that smells of fake blood and hay. And I’m totally fucking wet for him.
My Cole.
My devil.
My fucking damnation.
I’ve proved to him time and time again that I will be whatever he needs.
My head falls forward, and I suck in a long breath when he thrusts a finger into my pussy.
“You do like the fight,” he muses when he finds me wet.
“Fuck you …”
Gripping my hair, he yanks my head back, making me cry out and cutting off my words.
He leans forward, placing his lips next to my ears. “Don’t mind if I do.” He enters me in one hard motion from behind.
My eyes close, my fingers dig into the hay, and my breath is momentarily taken away. He doesn’t even let me recover before he begins to fuck me. The sounds of my whimpers, and our bodies slapping fill the small room. “Cole …”
He lets go of my hair, wraps his hand around my throat, and squeezes, taking my air away.
CHAPTER TWO
AUSTIN
HE’S BUTTONING HIS jeans as I pull my yoga pants and thong up my shaking thighs.
“Wanna play?” he asks me.
I arch a brow. “Play?” I know exactly what he means. No one touches what belongs to Cole Reynolds and gets away with it. I push my hip out. “I didn’t bring my hammer.” He and the rest of the Great White Sharks have this running joke about me and my hammer that I’ve used to smash bones with.
He throws his head back and lets out a laugh. His chest shakes, and even though I’m still pissed at him, I smile and take in this rare moment. Cole never laughs. Not like this. So carefree. The man I fell in love with is cold and detached from all emotions but anger. A murderer. A man who wanted to hurt me. I never wanted to change him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy these rare moments when he shows me a different side. The man I think he would be if his life hadn’t been so fucked up. But then again, I don’t think I’d love any other version of Cole than the one I have now.
When he loo
ks down at me, his smile lights up his chiseled face. His eyes as blue as the sky on a sunny day. They’re usually clouded over with anger. He harbors so much hatred for himself—for the world—and I hate that he doesn’t see himself the way I do. He carries the world on his shoulders, and although he’s the strongest man I know, it still affects him.
“That’s my sweetheart.” He pushes my hair that has fallen from my bun out of my face. “Gorgeous and evil.” Then as fast as it appeared, it’s gone. He tilts his head to the side, his brows furrowing. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
He leans down, kissing my forehead softly. “I mean it, Austin. They’ll pay for touching you.”
Pulling back, I look up at him. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Cole. As his eyes search my face, I watch the tic in his jaw as his perfect features turn as hard as stone. I see the Cole Reynolds I know. The bloodlust he craves. He needs to take, and I’m always willing to give it to him.
COLE
I’m trying not to think about that man touching my wife. I know it wasn’t her fault, and I’m not mad at her in the least. But I needed her. Ever since I met Austin Lowes, I’ve needed to claim her and mark her as mine. As awful and animalistic as that sounds, it’s what she does to me. And I came here to do just that.
We make our way out of the small room and back to the main tunnel, heading toward the exit. I can tell she’s pissed at me all over again. The moment we shared in the room is long gone.
“Why were you mad at me in the first place?” I ask.
She’s been pissy toward me for the past couple of days, but I’ve been busy with classes and the swim team, so I let it go and figured she’d get over whatever the hell it is. Deke and I had just finished practice and were on our way home from the University of Texas when he saw Austin had tagged Demi in a Facebook pic with Brynn. At first, I was trying to wrap my head around why in the hell she reactivated her page, and then I was pissed when she ignored my phone calls. She had turned her phone off. Austin has a way of shutting you out completely when she’s mad. And although I understand it, I’m not gonna let her get away with it. Not this time.
“You know why,” she answers flatly.
I grip her upper arm and yank her to a stop in the middle of a scene in the pathetic tunnel. “I’m not gonna ask you twice, Austin.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine. I’m pissed you put a tracker on my SUV.”
I almost laugh. “You can’t be serious …”
“That is a violation of my privacy.”
I run a hand through my hair. “It saved your life.”
Her mouth falls open. “That’s how you justify it?”
“I don’t need justification for my actions.”
“You are such a fucking dick!” she shouts, fisting her hands.
A man dressed as a vampire jumps out from an open coffin that leans up against a wall, and we both ignore him. “And you are being unreasonable.”
She gasps. “Unreasonable? You sit and watch me day after day, knowing exactly where I am at all times.” Her eyes widen. “That’s how you got here so fast? You checked my GPS?” she demands.
I don’t answer. Mainly because she’s wrong.
“Stupid. Of course. I’m so fucking stupid,” she whispers to herself.
I arch a brow, ignoring that. “Are you going places you shouldn’t be?” I ask. She’s wrong about that as well. I don’t just sit around and check on where she’s at.
“Are you accusing me of cheating on you?” she demands.
I will kill a man without thought. But I say, “That’s where your head went, sweetheart?”
“Maybe for all those late-night practices, you aren’t really in a pool?” she challenges.
I step into her, my eyes boring down on hers, but she doesn’t back down. She’s not that type of woman. My six-one to her five feet four doesn’t scare her in the least. “Don’t accuse me of being unfaithful,” I say through gritted teeth. This woman knows exactly what to say to piss me off.
“Then don’t spy on me.” She turns and storms past the guy dressed as a vampire who just stands there.
I run up behind her. “That tracker saved your life,” I spit out.
She stops abruptly and turns back to face me. Lifting her finger, she goes to cuss me out, but then pauses. Her face twists with mixed emotion, and then she lets out a huff. After a long second, she sighs. “I was fine.”
My eyes bug out at her words. The woman is so hardheaded. “You were not fine.”
“Cole …”
“You had a concussion.” Which we found out when I made her go to the hospital the following day.
“Football players get concussions all the time,” she argues, rolling her dark green eyes. She turns her face away from me, and the blue light hits the diamond stud in her nose.
“They don’t get kidnapped. That guy was going to rape you, Austin,” I snap.
“I had a plan,” she argues. “I had a knife in my nightstand. I just needed to get to it.”
“And if you hadn’t, then what?”
Her body stiffens.
I hate to bring this up. To make her think what if the sharks and I had not arrived at her father’s house when we did. If we had been two more minutes ... Things would have gone very differently that night. And it terrifies me.
She looks down at her tennis shoes and shuffles on her feet. I raise my hand to cup her cheek. Her beautiful green eyes come back to mine. “Yes, I had a tracker installed on your Range Rover, but I don’t regret that decision. I’ve almost lost you twice. Both times were my fault.” My other hand comes up to cup her other cheek as well, gently cradling her gorgeous face. Her plump lips are parted as she sucks in a deep breath. “I can’t imagine my life without you, sweetheart. And if you want, I’ll have one put on my car so you always know where I’m at.”
She releases a long breath. “You know I trust you, Cole. But this has nothing to do with that.”
“Then what does it have to do with?”
“I just … I wish you would have told me,” she answers.
I nod. “I apologize for keeping it from you.”
She pulls away from me to look around the tunnel and glances back at the vampire who still watches us like we’re the main attraction. “This tunnel sucks.” She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting. “I haven’t even gotten to use my glow stick.” She pulls it from the side pocket of her yoga pants.
I chuckle. “What if I make it better?”
She eyes me skeptically. “And how are you going to do that?”
“Come on.” I pull her back down the way we just came.
“Cole, the exit is the other way.”
“I know.”
She stays silent as we make our way back by Count Dracula. I nod to the man, and he waves like an idiot. She sighs heavily at his lack of commitment to his job requirements.
“Cole …?”
“We’re almost there.”
“Almost where?”
I don’t answer. We come back to where the guys stood on both sides of the tunnel dressed in cloaks. They’re now gone. Not much action here on a Monday night, especially since it’s not Halloween. That’s what happens when you’re open year-round.
I take a right and pull her into a room. A black trash bag lies in the corner. Duct tape wrapped around it in multiple places showcases the dimensions of a body inside.
“Was wondering when you were going to get here,” Deke says, turning to face us. He steps to the side, and we see the man chained to the far wall.
“What the hell?” Austin asks, noticing him.
I look at the guy who touched my wife. When we saw her Facebook post, we headed straight here. Shane has been fucking Brynn for a few months now, and they have this addiction to having sex in public places. One being here at her work. I’m not really on speaking terms with Shane right now, but Deke insisted we call him to help us out. Thankfully the fucker was usefu
l and knew exactly where and how we could sneak into the tunnel. I knew Austin would be here since I didn’t bring her last time. The moment we entered the tunnel, and I heard him call her baby, I wanted to knock his head off. Then I heard her tell him to leave her alone—quit touching her—and that was it. He had sealed his fate in the worst way.
“Is this … part of the tour?” he asks, his brown eyes opening and closing as he tries to focus on something. His back is up against the wall. A chain wrapped around his wrists secures them together above his head and held in place with a hook on the ceiling.
Deke laughs and reaches into the guy’s front pocket, removing a flask. He unscrews it and tips it upside down. “It’s empty,” he announces when nothing comes out.
I step to the side and look over at my wife. “You’re up, sweetheart.”
She stands before us, just staring at him. I lean up against the opposite wall, and Deke crosses his arms over his chest. We both wait for her to make her move and decide his fate.
His glassy eyes look her up and down, and a drunken smile spreads across his face. He licks his lips. “Yeah, baby. What are you going to do with me?”
She tilts her head to the side.
His smile widens. He looks from her to me and then back at her. He thinks I’m gonna let her fuck him right here in front of me. I’m gonna fuck him up all right, but not in a way he’s gonna benefit.
“This should be the other way around, baby. You should be the one tied up …”
She steps up to him and lifts her knee, kneeing him right in the balls.
He doubles over the best he can with his hands chained above his head. His face turns red, and he sucks in a long breath.
Deke slaps his thigh, laughing. “I once watched her Taze a man in the nuts. I laughed for days.” He chuckles.
“What the fuck …?” the guy cries through fits of coughing. “Bitch …”
She punches him in the face, knocking his head back, and shouts, “That’s for touching me.”
Pushing off the wall, I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her shoulders. Her body shakes with anger against mine. My wife is tough, but she’s been through a lot for only being nineteen. Abuse—physical and mental. I hate that I once contributed to that, so now anytime I can give her a chance to dish it back, I do.
DARE SERIES COLLECTION Page 91
