by Gemma Weir
“I will,” I reply.
He lifts me from the bar and pulls me into a swoon-worthy kiss. My heart is racing when he sets me back down. Our eyes lock, his sincere and serious. “Love you, sugar. Be careful.”
Our kiss has left me panting and pulling in a shallow breath, I nod. “Love you too.” Our lips touch once more, and he leaves just as Daisy walks through the door.
The rest of my shift finishes quickly. “Bye, guys,” I shout, as I grab my bag and wave. Abe and Daisy nod their heads in acknowledgment, and I dart out the door towards Echo’s truck. It’s so pretty, big and red and shiny. I jump in and drive the short hop to the grocery store. Running in, I quickly grabbing some basics as well as steak for dinner.
After paying for my stuff, I head back outside and load my bags into the box in the back of the truck. My skin prickles, a shudder running down my spine, and pausing, I turn around and scan the street. Several empty cars are parked in the lot, their drivers busy shopping, but the feeling of being watched doesn’t disappear.
Cautiously, I push the rest of my bags into the truck, checking over my shoulder every few seconds. I scan the street again, then shake my head and laugh at my overactive imagination. Climbing into the truck, I turn the music up loud and head back to Echo’s.
After pulling into the driveway, I kill the engine and the music silences. Singing loudly, I jump from the truck and dance to the front door, unlock it, and throw it open wide. I wander back to the truck, flip down the tailgate, and start pulling my groceries from the storage box. I feel eyes on me, and the pit of my stomach clenches. Spinning, I look up and down the street. Cars are parked outside houses, and a few children play at the far end, their squeals muted by the distance.
Paranoid, I grab some of the bags and rush inside. The house is comforting, quiet but welcoming. I pull in a steadying breath and talk to myself in the silence. “God, Liv, get a grip.”
I place the bags in the kitchen, tamp down my nervous fear, and walk back outside. I lean over the side of the tailgate and grab the last of my shopping. Grunting from exertion, I mutter to myself, “God, how much did I buy? These bags weigh a ton.”
I turn to head back inside and pain pulses through my shoulder; I drop my bags as strong arms wrap around my chest and cover my mouth.
A thousand thoughts flash through my mind.
What’s happening to me?
Am I going to die?
Echo.
Mum and Dad.
Please don’t hurt me.
Please don’t rape me.
Frozen in fear, I’m dragged backwards with my heels scraping along the ground.
Time seems to stop.
“Fight.” I hear Echo’s voice in my head, and I’m jolted back to reality.
Fight.
I bite down on the hand across my mouth, my teeth sinking into the skin with as much force as I can. My attacker grunts in pain and drops the hand from my face.
“Help. Help! Help! Someone help me please!” I scream. I thrash, my fingernails clawing at skin, feet kicking, arms flailing. I fight for my life.
Dropped to the ground, I scramble to my feet. Disoriented, I spin, searching for the way to safety.
I freeze in shock. “Wyatt?” I gasp.
Wyatt’s eyes sparkle with insanity, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. Fear prickles my skin, my heart thudding in my chest. I step back and pull in a deep breath, preparing to run. Filled with adrenaline, I force all of my energy into my feet and surge forward, darting past Wyatt and towards the street.
Pumping my arms, I sprint. His steps are loud behind me, and I dare a look over my shoulder. He’s so close.
Screaming, I forge forward, running as fast as I can. Fingertips scrape my back, and I’m thrown forward. My arms instinctively go out in front of me as his weight hits my back, knocking the air from my lungs.
I dig my fingernails into the dirt and try to claw myself from beneath him. But he roughly flips me to my back before climbing on top of me. “Ahhhhhh, no! Get off me! Get off!” I scream in his face.
His fist slams into my cheek, and the force throws my head to the side. “Shut up,” Wyatt snarls. Heat surges through my face, my vision blurs as the surrounding skin starts to swell. He leans forward, his putrid breath blowing into my face. “I am the executioner. Time to face your fate.”
Pain explodes through my face, and everything goes black.
Pain.
Darkness.
Fear.
Hushed voices usher me towards consciousness. Pain pulses through my head, dizziness and nausea hitting as I struggle to open my eyes. Blinding light invades my pupils. I try to lift my arm to shield myself from the glare, but it won’t move.
I can’t move.
I pull at my other wrist. Straps hold me down. My legs are spread, but something tight is wrapped around my ankles.
I’m tied down.
I force my eyes open. My stomach churns, and throwing my head to the side, I vomit, fear and bile emptying onto the floor.
Wyatt’s face appears above me, disgust lining his mouth. “What on earth’s that smell?” A female voice speaks, and I twist my neck to see who it belongs to.
Wyatt turns to speak to the woman, and longing and fear flash across his face. “She threw up,” he says.
“It’s the devil in her, trying to break free. We need to release it so we can kill it. She’s beyond saving now,” the woman says.
Instantly, I recognise who it is and try to speak, my voice scratchy and dry. “Miss Mimi?” I gasp.
Her prim, poised face comes into view, only the violent anger in her eyes making her seem different from the southern belle I’d met the first day I went to her guest house. “Foul, evil whore. Be gone, devil. How dare you speak to me. I won’t be polluted by your nefarious ways,” she screams. Hatred twists across her face, the pearls at her throat jumping when her fist rises and smashes into my cheek.
The impact of her punch forces my face to the side, and I close my eyes for a second, defeated. I force my lids to open and glance at my surroundings. I’m in a copse of trees; forest surrounds us, and only the blue sky above taunts me with the thought of freedom. I pull at my bindings, but both my wrists and ankles are tied down. I’m completely immobile.
“Temptress,” Wyatt’s voice calls me, and I turn to him. Mania glitters across his face, a wide grin spread across his mouth. “Temptress, it’s time,” he taunts.
Fear fills my chest, and my breath comes in short, frightened bursts. “Time for what?” I ask.
He lifts a silver knife, the shiny blade glinting. He reverently strokes the tip of the blade with his fingers before running the flat length of it across his cheek lovingly. “It’s time to save you. The Sinners have infected you, tainted your very soul. Made you into a whore who spreads her legs for that filthy biker.”
Open-mouthed, I stare at him. I’m going to die.
“I can save you, Olivia. God spoke to me. He said you were meant to be mine. That this was a test for me. I have to save you, and you have to be pure enough to be saved,” Wyatt says.
I shake and dither in shock and fear and helplessness. Miss Mimi appears above me, her hand caressing Wyatt’s shoulder. Staring at me, she speaks. “She’s just like the others, darling. Filth and sin consumes her. She’s not good enough for you, my sweet. You need someone pure, someone who hears God and understands his call.”
She wraps her arms around Wyatt and turns him away from me, her old wrinkled hand cupping his cheek. “I understand you, sweetheart. I’m all you need,” she coos. She pulls him towards her and kisses him, her hand dropping to rub his erection through his trousers.
I gag, disgusted.
“No,” he shouts. He pushes her away, and she falls back, landing on the floor next to me.
“No. God said Olivia was mine. A gift for all my hard work and devotion. Praise for the souls I’ve set free, all those girls whose blood ran out before they were truly pure,” he rants. Wyatt steps clo
ser and runs the knife along my cheek, the sharp tip piercing my skin. Heat surges to the cut, blood pooling to the surface. “You’re my reward, Olivia. He should never have touched you.”
His fists rain down on me, punching my face, chest, arms, and legs. I scream and try to curl my limbs up to protect myself, but the bindings hold me still and exposed to his punishment. Pain screams from my skin. Miss Mimi’s loud laughter is the last thing I hear as I drift into unconsciousness.
Today has been a fucking good day.
I woke up wrapped around my girl. I had her screaming in the shower. I watched her prance around the bar for a few hours, thinking about all the dirty things I planned to do to her once I got her home later.
And then I got called out to go sort some club shit. The bouncers at Beavers had managed to catch one of the motherfuckers who’ve been causing trouble, and me and Sleaze taught him a couple of broken bones’ worth of lessons.
All in all, a fucking good day.
I’m cruising my bike back towards my house and my girl; I can’t wait to get home. My cock’s so fucking hard, I plan to bend her over the kitchen counter as soon as I walk through the door. Then maybe I’ll eat her perfect little pussy on the stairs, and then I’m gonna claim that ass of hers.
The truck’s parked in the driveway, and I ride past it and park my bike in the garage. I walk past the truck and see an apple on the ground, then another a few steps further along. I circle around the back of the truck. Grocery bags are on the ground, food spilling from them. The tailgate’s still down, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
Something’s not right.
I rush to the house; the front door’s wide open. “Livvy,” I shout. As I move from room to room, my shouts become more frantic. “Olivia. Livvy, you here, sugar?” The house is empty, so I pull my phone from my pocket and call her cell. The stupid country song she’s set as a ringtone screams into life. I follow the noise and find her phone next to her purse, covered in dirt on the ground beneath the truck.
Panicking, I fumble as I call Sleaze. He answers after the first ring. “Brother,” Sleaze says in greeting.
“Is Livvy with Brandi?” I ask.
His response is immediate. “No, Brandi’s with me. She’s been home all day. Why, what’s up?”
Growling, I hold the phone away from my ear and pull in a breath. “I don’t know. Livvy said she was going to get groceries then come straight home. The truck’s here, the groceries are dumped all over the driveway. The door to the house’s wide open, but Livvy’s not here.”
I hear him mutter to Brandi in the background. “On my way, brother,” he says and ends the call.
The sight of the bags scattered on the ground pushes me over the edge, and throwing my head back, I roar. Frustration, anger, and fear fill me.
The old guy across the street is sitting in his rocking chair on his porch, quietly watching the world go by. I stomp across the street and shout up to him, “Hey, you seen Livvy?”
He stands and makes his way to the railing. “Why hello, Echo. No, I haven’t seen her since you two went into the woods earlier. Why? Did she say she was coming to call on me?”
Fear takes hold of me, my heart slowing so quickly the breath in my chest falters. “You saw her going into the woods with me?”
“Well, erm, I wasn’t prying or nothing. Just after all that screaming an’ shouting the kids were doin’ earlier, I came out to see what all the fuss was about.”
“Gus!” I shout, and the old guy jumps, shocked. “Gus, are you sure it was Livvy?”
Gus reaches up and scratches his head. “Well, my eyesight’s not what it used to be, mind you. But it sure looked like a man and a woman walking from your driveway and disappearing into the trees.”
Dread fills my stomach; I haven’t felt fear like this since my first day on deployment in Iraq.
“And you heard screaming?”
He nods slowly, his eyes sharpening, like the pieces are beginning to fall into place in his mind. “You don’t think it was kids doing all that screaming?” he says morosely.
I shake my head, my eyes narrowing. “My house is wide open, bags full of groceries scattered all over my driveway. You heard screaming and then saw people disappearing into the woods behind my house.”
Gus straightens, the frail old gent gone and in his place an angry man. “You think someone took her?”
I nod and look him in the eyes, needing him to see the fear there. “I think so, yes. I don’t know why anyone would target her, but I think they did. Can you show me where they went into the woods? There’s a few paths that run from my house. I need to know where to start searching.”
Slowly backing away, he opens to door to the house. “Yes, I can show you. I’ll be right out.”
I watch him disappear into his house, and grabbing my phone, I call Sleaze. He answers on the first ring. “I think someone took her,” I say. “Gus, the old guy from across the street, heard screaming and then saw two people walk into the woods at the side of my house. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be related. I’m going to look for her.”
Sleaze growls. “Wait for me. I’ll be there in ten.”
I shake my head, and reply, “I can’t, man. I don’t know how long she’s been gone or how far into the woods she is. I need to get going.”
Sleaze’s voice is full of worry when he speaks. “Echo, brother, don’t go in there alone, who knows what you’re gonna find.”
“She’s my fucking world. I love her. I need to find her. I’m going to find her,” I say emphatically. I end the call as Gus rounds the corner of his house, two shotguns resting across his shoulders. “What the fuck you got there, old man?” I say, surprised.
Gus scowls and racks the slide on the shotgun, loading the weapon. “Less of the old man. I’m coming with you. If someone’s got Miss Olivia, I’m gonna help you find her. I was in the army for fifteen years. I might be old, but I still know how to shoot a gun.”
Cold air coats my skin, and everything hurts. Pain thuds through my head; my face is stiff. I force my eyes open. My vision’s blurred, and I blink to try to clear it.
“Welcome back, temptress,” Wyatt says.
Unwelcome memories surge to the surface. Wyatt and Miss Mimi, pain, fists, knife. I clench my fingers and pull in vain at whatever holds my arms.
Miss Mimi’s face appears above me. “It’s time, whore. God punishes those who sin. It’s your time to be tested,” she snarls.
She raises the knife in the air and runs the flat blade down my neck and across my chest. Slicing into the fabric of my dress, she cuts straight down the middle to the hem, and the material falls to the sides. “Whore, look at yourself. You disgust me,” she spits, anger and fury pouring from her in waves.
Terrified, I pull at my bindings, the straps ripping into the skin of my wrists and ankles. Wyatt stands over me, his eyes scanning my body. “You were made to tempt, Olivia; I can see the sin under your skin.” He draws the tip of the knife across my breast; blood droplets pool on my skin. “I want to see you, my temptress. My reward.”
He slices my bra and panties with the knife, then removes the fabric and leaves me naked and exposed, his eyes burning with arousal. My stomach churns and vomit surges up my throat and out.
Burning heat scorches across my thigh, and I scream. Blood drips down my leg. The knife slices over my other thigh, and my blood runs across my skin. My throat feels raw from screaming, the sound echoing in the silence of the woods.
“That’s it, whore, the sin runs free with your blood,” Miss Mimi screams as she takes the knife, scoring my arms and stomach.
Tears fall down my face. “Stop, please stop,” I beg. I look at Wyatt. A blissful longing is etched across his face while his hands are on his cock, stroking himself through his trousers. He pulls his shirt over his head and stares at me in a trance-like state. Licking his lips, he watches the blood run from my wounds. Finally naked, his swollen cock protrudes from between
his legs. Smaller hands wrap around his waist, and Mimi starts to stroke his aroused flesh.
Disgusted, I close my eyes, unable to watch whatever happens next.
“No!” Wyatt’s shout shocks me, and my eyes fly open. Miss Mimi’s on the ground, her eyes shut, unmoving. “Temptress, you’re my reward. My penance for doing God’s work. I can see the sins and impurities running from your blood, but I can’t wait. The devil’s inside you. I know I shouldn’t touch you, but I need to.”
Working his hard cock with his hand, he walks towards me and kneels between my legs, his fingers sliding up my blood-soaked thigh towards my sex. Repulsed, I scream, my throat raw as I thrash against my bindings. Pain roars through my wrists, and I kick and pull my arms with every ounce of energy I have.
The strap around my ankle loosens, and pulling my leg free, I kick at Wyatt. Hope builds in my chest when I hear the crack of impact as my foot crashes against his head. Pain burns through my ankle, but buoyed, I ignore it and pull at the straps on my other limbs, determined to free myself.
“You little bitch,” Wyatt snarls as his eyes narrow and anger glows red across his face. Blood trickles from his temple. His fists clench, and cocking back his arm, he punches me in the face.
Everything goes black.
Gus leads me to a path at the edge of the woods and hands me one of the shotguns. We make our way into the trees. Silently, we creep along the path, hoping to hear something to point us toward Livvy.
Dense forest surrounds us. Fear trickles along my spine, every footstep bringing me closer to finding her. I move quickly, refusing to think about what could be happening to her right now. I forge forward, Gus following quietly behind me.
A noise makes me pause; Gus’s hand rests on my shoulder, assuring me he heard it too. Laughter, following by a piercing scream.
I run.
Gus falls behind, unable to keep pace. The noise stops, then screams burst through the silence again as we dart towards the sound.
The path opens into a clearing in the woods. White stones form a circle with a low wooden table positioned in the middle. Livvy’s tied down, straps around her wrists and ankles.
