by Amo Jones
I lean up on my elbow, trying to get up but the guy I’m over tenses when my elbows dig into his hard thigh muscles.
“Let me up…” I moan.
He flips my legs off his lap and brings each of his legs over mine. His lips touch the back of my neck. “What. Do. You. Do?”
I gulp, licking my lips. “Let me up.” He pushes my legs away and they drop to the ground as he takes his seat again. I inch up, my eyes going straight to the guy whose lap I’m sitting on. “Who are you?”
I turn to look at the rearview mirror, and my eyes drop to the driver’s neck where I see the familiar demon inked. Just as recognition zaps through me, I catch the smile that tickles Brantley’s mouth in the rearview mirror.
“This is your car?” I should have known Brantley would own something like this.
He chuckles, dropping it into second as he shoots us forward on the highway.
Spinning back around, I glare at the guy whose lap I’m on. “Who are you.”
“Fucking chill. It’s Bishop. I’m not going to slip one in you…” There’s a pause. “In this lifetime.”
I relax slightly because he’s right. He wouldn’t do that. I look to Nate, who is watching the passing trees out the window, his fist clenched on his lap.
“Where are we going?”
Nate doesn’t answer, just continues to ignore me. I try hard not to take in the strength of his jaw and neck.
“You’re on a run, boo, and sucks to be you because these never end well,” the guy in the passenger seat says, and I recognize his voice instantly. It’s Hunter, Madison’s brother. Well, this is all new news, so I don’t know if I’m actually allowed to refer to him as her brother, but whatever, and also, I’m still drunk.
“I feel funny.” I sway in Bishop’s lap.
His arm snakes around my waist. “Wow! You alright?”
“Umm…” I click my lips together to end the ‘um.’ “Not sure, don’t think so. Is it hot in here?” I start fanning my face in an attempt to cool down my suddenly hot flesh. My cheeks flash in the humidity.
My eyes go to Bishop’s. “You look hot in this mask. I don’t know, it calls to something inside of me.” Sweat drips down between my boobs, and my hands come to the bottom of my shirt. I yank it up and throw it to the front of the car onto Brantley’s lap.
“Woah!” Brantley grabs it, his eyes coming to me in the rearview mirror. “Nate, check her. Now.”
Leaning forward, I arch my back so my ass is the only view for the backseat trio and hit the stereo. D12’s “Devil’s Night” starts booming through the subwoofers. I close my eyes and wriggle back onto Bishop’s lap. Nate yanks me off, putting me directly on his. I hear chuckling somewhere, but Nate curls his fingers around my chin, tilting my head down to face him.
“Did you take anything?”
I yank myself out of his grip. “What do you mean?”
“Did you snort anything, pop anything?”
My brows cross in confusion. “What? No. I just drank. You know I don’t like drugs that much.”
His eyes go to Bishop and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, babe. Sure.” Then he turns to Bishop. “With her like this, it’s going to make this whole thing a little more difficult.”
Bishop laughs. “God I’m loving karma right now.”
“Fuck you.” Nate flips him off.
The music continues to take me over. “Where are we going?”
Nate’s eyes come to mine—finally, but now that I have his attention, I’m not sure I want it. He’s mad. “You’ll see.”
With the blanket of the music, I know the guys can’t hear anything that is said between him and I. I don’t break the eye contact, ignoring the way my stomach clenches the longer I’m in his trance. Like a captured butterfly, my time is limited.
“Are you mad at me?” I don’t know why that’s the first thing that I say, but it is.
His jaw flexes in a way that makes it expand a little at the edges. When I figure he’s not going to answer me, I rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t care if he doesn’t want it there, it’s staying there anyway. Now I just have to stop myself from falling asleep.
About twenty minutes later, we’re pulling up to a high gated house. There’s old brick lining the perfectly manicured grass. Brantley winds his window down, leaning out the window slightly and looking directly into a camera. Nate’s hand is on my thigh and in my attempt to ignore that, I wriggle in his lap. He clenches his grip and his lips come to the back of my neck.
“You’re making me testy, Tillie. I’ve been fucking light on you when it comes to this world, but that’s all about to change. When tonight is over? You’ll be running from me.”
Unable to entertain his idea, I ignore him. Brantley throws my shirt at me. “You might need this.”
Two minutes later, shirt now back on, we’re still driving down the long gravel driveway. The road begins to narrow, the trees caving in on us. Goosebumps break over my flesh. Getting driven into the unknown is sobering. Brantley’s car finally comes to a stop, the heavy rumbling of his engine beneath us and the headlights illuminating the masses of trees in front. In my clouded thoughts, I internally question what tonight is actually about, but before I can think too much into it, Nate’s lips touch the back of my neck again, his smile pressing against my flesh.
“Remember how Madison used to bitch about the games we played?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “Yeah.” My eyes fly to Bishop, who is watching me carefully.
Nate chuckles, his hand sprawling out over my tummy as he swings the door open with his other. “Well, now you’re the object. Run.” He shoves me out the door, and I swing around to glare at him.
“You brought me out here, wearing that, to play a game? No, Nate. I’m not Madison!”
Nate gets out of the car, and I hear the rest of the doors shut in the background. “Nah, that’s not why. But since you’re here, let’s play, baby. Ten.”
“Fuck you.”
He smirks. “Always so feisty. Eight.”
“You missed nine.” I roll my eyes. I’m feeling bold from all the alcohol I definitely should not have consumed.
“Two.”
My eyes snap to his.
His darken. “Run, princess.”
In my daze, I find myself looking over the artistic skull painted onto his face with perfect sharp precision, totally forgetting what he had just said. Only for a second, because a blood-curdling scream ripples out from somewhere behind me, and it shocks my feet into moving. Before I know it, I’m jogging through an unfamiliar forest with sweat dripping down my temple. My legs ache in protest, my feet throb from being inside my thigh-high boots, and my head spins from moving so fast, but realization slams into me like an unexpected wave of truth, threatening to pull me down and drag me out to sea. There is always a reason to their madness. Why am I here?
“No! No! NO!” That same scream reverberates through the air and every single hair on my skin stands to life.
What the fuck is going on.
I stop, swiping the sweat from my forehead. How did I get from drinking, to here, running through a damn forest, away from the most dangerous guys ever, with the screams of someone playing in the background. Is it playing?
Spinning around, I try to take a second to take in my surroundings. Everything is silent, with nothing but the heavy inhales of me sucking in air. Did they even chase me? Or was that a game to them too? Madison said that they liked to play games and actually compared them to The Riddler, but I’m feeling a little more like I’m in the middle of a Saw movie. All that’s missing is Billy the Puppet to roll up in here on his little trike.
“Help! Please!”
That voice isn’t going anywhere, so I decide to follow it. Running in the direction of where it was coming from. My white shorts will be ruined by the end of the night. Gripping onto the bark of a tree, my movements slow as I catch flickers of burnt orange raging in the air. A bonfire. My gaze shifts to the s
ide where there’s a girl locked in a cage, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocks back and forth like a caged animal. She has a dirty rag tied around her eyes and her hands and feet are tied together with rope. I can see from here that where the rope has rubbed against her skin has blistered as if she’s been like that for some time. My eyes drop to the floor of the cage where urine stains leak over the edges. I take a step forward but stop. I was too busy looking at her that I missed what was going on around her. My eyes go to the men standing around the fire. They’re all dressed in hooded robes, thrown over their faces. I count them. I get to nine when my stomach feels like it’s going to roll over. One of the guys that is directly opposite me, standing on the other side of the fire slowly lifts his head, not enough that I can see, but enough that I can make out the Dia los Muertos face paint. He smirks, his eyes coming to mine but his head remaining hunched over. My hand flies to my mouth in shock. Am I really shocked, though?
“Aww, come here, mea principessa.” Nate curls his finger at me.
I shake my head, stepping backward. My eyes drop to his naked chest where the robe ties at his collar.
He tilts his head, amused. “You can’t run from us, Tillie. You know that.”
The girl yells again. “Please help me! Please!”
I step back again but slam into a rock-hard chest. I scream, spinning around just as a hand comes to my mouth and squeezes. I see the tattoos on his neck and know it’s Brantley. Madison is crazy, these guys are not scary. The word scary does not even touch the level of darkness that they exude. They’re villainous degenerates. They dig their claws into you without using their touch and suck the life from your soul.
“Shut the fuck up, Tillie, and do as you’re told.” He spins me around to face everyone, thrusting his cock into my ass to push me forward. He brings his lips to my ear. “You wanted to play with the big boys, baby, so let’s play.” His grip tightens around my mouth. “Do you know who that girl is in there?”
“Shhhh,” Hunter chuckles from beside Nate. “Don’t spoil it.”
My eyes go straight to the girl, the flames from the fire now licking its heat over my skin. I don’t recognize her. Should I?
Nate still hasn’t said anything, he’s just watching me carefully. My eyes fly around the area. Behind the cage is a large pickup truck, Ford Raptor, I think, with its tailgate down. There are giant logs lined around the fire to offer as seating.
“What is going on?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“Tillie,” a soft whisper comes from the cage. “She’s here, isn’t she?” the girl yells. “Let me out! Please let me out!”
I crank my head toward the girl, anxiety splitting me open. “How do you know who I am?”
Nate stands in the way, forcing me to stop my analysis of the young girl.
“I know you, I know you! I know you. Fuuuccckkkk!” The girl’s screams are raucously desperate.
Nate’s hand comes to my face, just when I think it’s going to be a gentle gesture, he squeezes my cheeks. His shoulders straighten, and I watch as his lip curls and his teeth are bared. I know this pose, I’ve seen it many times. It’s like a whole other side of Nate comes to the surface. It terrifies me in all the ways it should terrify me. This is the side of him that makes him second in command as a King. This is why he’s Bishop’s right-hand man.
“Sit. Down,” he orders through a growl that’s soft enough to squeeze. “Your final warning, Tillie.”
I take a step back and drop onto a log. My eyes keep going back to the caged girl, but before I can ask anything else, laughing starts to emerge through the forest. There’s another group of young people. All in the same face paint. Their laughs stop when they see me. Their eyes go to The Kings. My kings.
“Wow,” one chuckles, shaking his head. “You actually brought a Stuprum to a meet?” His eyes go to who I’m guessing is Bishop. “Your pops know about this?” I feel outnumbered. There are two girls, and one is locked in a cage. The rest are guys, some I don’t even know. Not that it matters, because the ones I do know are scarier than any man I’ve ever met. I want to ask Bishop where Madison is, but I find my mouth glued shut, sealed by fear. Possibly.
“You can’t do this to me,” the girl shouts through her weeping. “I’m—you can’t!”
“What is going on?” I glare at Nate.
One of the new guys laughs, taking a seat beside me. “She’s a swan. Obviously.”
“So?” I snap, my annoyance growing balls. “Madison broke all of that bullshit.”
“Except…” The guy leans in, his lips coming to my ear.
Nate growls. “Watch your proximity, young pup, or I’ll tear your lips from your face.”
The boy backs away slightly, but still close enough to be able to whisper. “Some parents are fucked up, Tillie, and hers, are the worst.”
“How?” My eyes search his. Since I’m getting answers from him, I’m going to milk it. “How are hers the worst?”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes dropping to my lips. It’s then that I realize who this boy is. It’s the guy from earlier. Lenny? Lennox? I’ve already forgotten. “She’s a Vitiosis.”
“And?” I wait for the ball to drop, but instead, Nate steps in and intercepts it.
Yanking me up by my hand, he turns me around to face the girl, his hand traveling around my stomach. He uses his other to wrap my hair in his fist and tilts my head to the side. “Look at her, baby,” he whispers softly against the side of my neck. “Look at her. She’s all hopeless and at our disposal. She’s the next known swan but only two years younger than Madison, so do you know what that means? Hmmm?”
I don’t answer. I’m borderline ready to knee him in the balls and save that poor girl.
“Answer me, Tillie.” His grip tightens in my hair.
“No!” I gasp. “I don’t know what that means.”
He chuckles, and then I feel his teeth sink into the flesh of my neck. He swats my ass forward, dismissing me. “It means that her parents have decided they don’t want her, so unless someone else of her line accepts her.” Nate’s eyes flick up to Brantley and then come back down to mine. “Then she’s gotta bounce.”
“Bounce?” I snort. “But why did you bring me here? Why, Nate?”
He chuckles, and the sound grips on my fear and squeezes tightly. “Because I want you to see why it’s important for you to listen to me. Take in this scene, Tillie. Remember it.”
Turning around to face Brantley. His eyes are already on the girl, his finger running lines over his upper lip.
“Brantley!”
He doesn’t look at me.
“Brantley!” I repeat, my voice a little higher.
He finally turns to face me, his eyes narrowing. “What?”
“You’re a Vitiosis. Take her.”
There’s a pause, and at first, I think nothing of it. I don’t even question why everyone has suddenly silenced. The new guys who came in have stopped their chatting. Like never mind the fact that this girl is caged here, ready to—whatever was about to happen to her.
Brantley continues to glare at me, his face expressionless. “I don’t want to.”
Nate rips off his robe and stretches his neck, his eyes going up and down my body. It’s the first time I’ve noticed the blood on his chest. He swipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes still on mine. “Stop trying to interfere, Tillie.”
“You brought me here, Nate,” I snap, going back to Brantley who is still watching me.
“You want me to save her?” Brantley asks the question with discernable hesitancy as if he’s wondering why I would want to save a human being. “Tillie, the reason why she has fallen on our lap is because of your mother. If she was here, doing her job, then we wouldn’t have come face-to-face with who this girl is.” I ignore his comment about Katsia.
“Please,” I plead, watching him. Brantley has no other immediate family. His father died when Madison killed him for what he did to her and Brantley as chi
ldren, and his mother died when he was young. Him having someone, anyone, would have to be better than having no one. “You’re alone, Brantley. Bring someone in.”
His eyes narrow, but his lip kicks up in a devious smirk. He leans over, running his index finger down the side of my face. Chills break out over my skin. “Tsk, tsk…” His fingers grip around my chin as he tilts my face to his. “What makes you think I’m alone.” Why does that statement chill me to the bone?
Our eye contact is broken by a voice I haven’t heard in some time.
“Time’s up. Do it.”
I spin around, my eyes clashing with her figure. Tall, long dark hair, enough makeup on to be classed as a Sephora shop, and heels as high as the shoe that’s shoved up her ass.
Khales.
I clench my jaw, raising to my feet and leaping straight for her. She sees me and for a second, fear flashes through her eyes before she quickly composes herself. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little pink haired hobbit.”
“That’s real cute,” I laugh, snarling and coming face-to-face, nose-tip-to-nose-tip with her. “But you and I have unfinished business.”
She grits her teeth. “We are done. I’m with Hector now, or did you forget?” Then she smirks, and I have to physically clench my fists together to stop them from flying straight into her face. “You can’t touch me.” She swings her bored eyes over my shoulder toward Nate and Bishop. “End her. I’ll send the crew after, and boys, you still have a job to do tonight.” She looks around all of them. “And we need it done rather quickly.” She winks at Bishop. “See you all later.” She leaves as quickly as she appeared. I let out a frustrated scream and then swing around to Bishop, who is watching her exit with venom seeping through his eyes.
“How has no one killed that bitch yet?” I scream, my arms flying up around me.
Bishop’s eyes come to mine. “Good question.”
I stomp toward the girl in the cage, gripping the metal and slowly dropping to my knees. “I’m going to get you out, okay?”
She doesn’t answer, her lip trembles.
“What’s your name?” I ask while mentally trying to think of a plan that doesn’t get us both locked inside.
