by Rachel Leigh
Tommy is tapping into his phone and Zed is looking at me with this blank stare. There is nothingness behind his dark eyes. He always looks so angry and cold. Like he can be standing in a room full of people and he’s still alone in his own thoughts. I’ve never really talked to the guy, but I don’t feel like I’m missing out on much. I don’t take him as the type to hold conversations easily. There were times in class where I would watch him as he stared straight ahead, his expression never changing. There were also times that I wanted to get inside his head, just to know what he was thinking because he’s never given light to any emotion. Though, I imagine it’s scary as hell inside his thoughts.
All four of these guys are easy on the eyes. Each one holding his own appeal. They don’t have that athletic, jock appeal. They’re more grunge and darkness. Mysterious and alluring. There is a blackness about them. A more than confident ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude that everyone wishes they could have at one time or another. People follow them, but never walk beside them. They’re loners, and for good reason—they have secrets—dark and dangerous secrets.
“Alright.” Tommy tosses the phone he was playing around with to Talon. “Let’s do this.”
With his eyes glued to mine, Talon walks slowly behind me and sticks his hands and the phone out in front of us. “Toss this in the fire.” After I take it, he moves a couple steps back.
Looking around from one person to the next, my body shivers. Even in the heat, I feel coldness ride down my back like the ghost of my future is standing directly behind me. “Why?” My voice cracks.
Talon snaps, “Because I told you to. Now do it.”
“Whose phone is it?” I look to Zed, who appears to be recording me.
He catches my stare. “You have two choices. You throw the phone in that fire, or we throw you in that fire. What’s it gonna be, Little Thorn?”
Pressing my lips together tightly, I grip the phone and shut my eyes. Without even looking, I toss it in front of me. When I hear Talon breathe a sigh of relief behind me then squeeze my hips, I know that it went in.
Tommy begins clapping. “Atta girl.”
Opening my eyes, I pull away from Talon aggressively. “What? You don’t like to cuddle?” He smirks.
Rolling my eyes, I turn to walk away as quickly as I can, but someone runs up behind me, grabbing me and lifting me up in the air. “Let go of me.” I begin kicking my legs. “I did what you wanted, now I’m going home.”
“Oh no you’re not.”
Talon.
“You think that was the end? That was just the beginning, baby. You do what we tell you to do. You go where we tell you to go.” He sets me back down by the fire, where the guys are all watching and finding humor in this insane situation. “Now we’re celebrating, and you’re celebrating with us.”
“Celebrating what exactly? Getting away with my murder?” I eat my words immediately when Talon jerks my body to his. Gripping my face in his hands, he pushes his fingers so far into my cheeks that I could bite down and feel the space they are invading in my mouth.
His teeth clench together so tightly that I think I can hear the crack of a tooth. “Don’t you ever fucking say that again, do you hear me? We didn’t murder anyone. Josh was a psycho, and it was an accident. We did what we had to do, and now you’re gonna do what you have to and keep your mouth shut, do you understand me?” He presses harder.
All I can do is nod. In a swift motion, he pushes my face back. I rub my hands on my cheeks, where I’m sure he left the imprint of his fingers. Feeling like I’m on the verge of a breakdown, I choke, “Was that his phone?”
“Yes. And you just threw it in the fire. You just got rid of evidence shortly after you two exchanged text messages.” Talon tsks. “Did you really have to threaten him like that?”
“Threaten him? Is that what you made it look like?” I shake my head in disbelief. “What was the point? His phone is gone. I can delete the messages from mine.” Turning on my phone, I begin scrolling to the conversation. Without even reading it, I delete the message.
“You can delete whatever the hell you want, but if you think that forensics can’t retrieve your phone records, then welcome to the twenty-first century, babe.” He slaps his hand to my back.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, with a hushed voice. Dropping my head down, I shake it slowly. “I told you that I didn’t plan on telling anyone anything.”
“You’re right. You’re not.” Zed comes to my side, hooking an arm around my shoulder. “C’mon, let's get you a drink.” He begins leading me back toward the house. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Talon watching us with fire behind his stare.
Following Zed’s lead, we walk back into the dark building. As soon as we escape the orange glow of the fire, the unnerving feeling returns. Chills wash over every inch of my body. Being in this place—being here with them—feels sinister. My mind is in a constant state of fight or flight.
“Zed, I know we barely know each other.” I turn toward him as we step into a small room to the left of the back exit. He flicks on a small flashlight that he must have had in his pocket. “If you could just let me go home. We can all pretend this never happened. Please, I’m begging you.”
A smirk grows on his face–a menacing one that’s laced with intention. He trails his index finger down the side of my cheek then traces it along the center where my lips meet. I hold my breath, trying not to take in the smell of stale cigarettes on his skin. “Maybe,” he watches my lips while he speaks, “but, what are you gonna do for me?” His eyes slide up, meeting mine as his finger presses aggressively between my lips. I clench my teeth shut quickly, not allowing him in any farther, but his other hand grips my jaw, prying my mouth open.
“Stop!” I demand, with my jaw locked from his hold on me. I try to squirm away, but he only presses harder, keeping me in place. With my lips in the shape of an O, he slides his finger in slow and smooth. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to gag on the metallic taste.
“We can’t let those pretty lips go to waste. I bet you know how to work them.” My eyes pop open at his words. He continues to slide his finger in and out of my mouth, watching it like some sort of fucking psycho. “Show me how you work them, Little Thorn.”
Bringing my knee up, hard and fast, I nail him right in his balls, feeling his hard cock hit the bone of my knee. In a swift motion, his hands drop and cup his crotch. “You fucking whore!”
Attempting to reach for me, I move faster. Running behind him and out of the room into the dark. My body crashes violently into something, or rather someone. “Where do you think you’re going?” Talon wraps his hand around my wrist and begins pulling me down the hallway, away from Zed. Thank God. Who knows what that guy would have done to me if Talon hadn’t shown up.
Who knows what Talon will do to me now that he has me.
With his fingers like claws around my wrist, he leads me down the dark hall. “What did he do?” Talon asks, point-blank.
“He didn’t do anything,” I snap, jerking from his reach and walking with hurried steps in front of him. “Like you’d care if he did.” I have no idea where I’m going. I can’t see a damn thing. But hearing his footsteps thud against the wooden floor behind me reassures me that he’ll catch me before he lets me fall to my death.
For whatever reason, I have a purpose with these guys. They know I’m not telling anyone that they killed Josh. They could let me go—but they won’t.
Face planting into a wall, I gasp. “Son of a bitch.” My hands cup my nose, then dab around to feel for blood.
Laughter rolls behind me as Talon finds humor in my pain. “You ready to stop trying to be so damn tough and let me lead the way?” A beam of light shines in front of me when Talon turns on his flashlight.
“No!” Stretching my hands out in front of me, I walk slowly. Noticing an open door swaying back and forth, curiosity gets the better of me. “Is someone in there?” I whisper.
“Let’s find out.” He br
ushes past me and heads for the open door. I don’t know why, but I follow him. What better way to scare the hell out of yourself on Halloween night than to walk through a haunted asylum housed with the dead—though, it seems the living ones I’m stuck with are the ones doing the haunting.
Sticking close to Talon’s back, ready to reach out if need be, I follow him down a case of raggedy stairs. Reaching my hand out, I take hold of the back of his shirt, balling it in my fist. When we reach the bottom, he flashes the light in the center of the room.
“What the hell?” I draw out. “Is that a swing?” Stepping closer, I get a better look at the fixture hanging from the ceiling. It’s some sort of wooden crate without a top attached to a pole with straps inside of it.
“Back in the day, this was used to stimulate vertigo in children. Apparently, it resulted in laughter. And we thought we got to have all the fun toys as kids.” Talon chuckles, before popping the small flashlight between his teeth. His hands grab me by the waist, and before I can even react, my ass is sitting inside the crate.
“Get me down, now!” I shriek. “This thing is so dirty. There are probably baby spiders hatching on me as I speak.” I kick and squirm, but his hand only pushes me farther in. Before I even realize what the hell he is doing, the straps are over my shoulders. My body jolts at the clicking sound of a lock.
Taking one hand, he sticks it to the side of the box and closes a clamp that I didn’t notice before. Then does the same with the other hand. “Talon, I mean it. Get me out of this thing right now.” Panic ensues. He’s going to leave me here. He’s going to fucking walk out and leave me in this thing in the dark. “Please, I’m begging you.”
“Kids didn’t get to have all the fun, ya know. Adults played, too. Just by cranking that lever over there a few times.” My eyes bolt to the lever to the right that is connected. “I could make this thing spin six-hundred times in a minute. You might vomit or shit yourself; you'll probably even pass out. In which case, I could do whatever the hell I wanted to with your lifeless body.”
“You wouldn’t,” my head shakes, my tone shifting, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Shining the flashlight up at his face while he speaks, his eyebrows dip. “Your first mistake of the night would be believing that.”
“I do believe it. You’re not a monster, Talon, I know you’re not. You have a heart.”
Stepping forward, his hand dips between my thighs, prying them apart. With my wrists anchored in place, I can’t even try to fight him off. “Don’t reduce me to a man with a beating heart. Just because it’s in there, doesn’t mean it beats with good intent.”
My legs whip out, kicking my feet over and over again. “Get me the fuck out of this thing!”
When he leans closer, a momentary lapse of hope has me drawing in a sigh of relief. Until his warm breath hits my neck and his fingers slither between my legs.
“You’re worse than Zed. Here I thought maybe I’d be safe with you. You are just a bunch of sickos,” I spit out, my feelings shifting rapidly from frightened to angered. My feet kick again, trying to hit him wherever I can. I scream, “I hate you, all.”
When I stop kicking, I notice that Talon is just standing there watching me. His breaths are labored and unfulfilled. I take notice of every inhale and exhale. “You said he didn’t do anything in that room.” He speaks the words as if each one was a sentence on its own.
Defeat overpowers me. “I just wanna go home, Talon.”
His hand retreats from my shorts and grips tightly onto my face. His signature move to get my attention. “What.the.fuck.did.Zed.do?”
“Nothing. I told you, he didn’t do anything. He may have if you hadn’t come in the room, but fuck, Talon, maybe I would have been better off. At least he didn’t restrain me and assault me.”
“I didn’t assault you.”
“Then what exactly is your endgame here, hmm? Doesn’t feel like you are trying to make me laugh in this laughing chair.”
“You were curious. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before following me into a torture room.” He begins shining the flashlight around the room.
My eyes skim the room, following the light. That’s exactly what this place is. It’s a torture room. One wall holds a row of wooden crates that look like they were used as cages. There are old hospital beds on another side and a bunch of mechanical equipment surrounding a chair. I don’t even have to ask; I know exactly what that chair is used for.
“Can you please—” I’m cut off by the sound of the clamps opening. One hand drops free, then the other. Taking a deep and audible breath, I rub my fingers around my wrists. Once he unlocks the straps over my shoulders, I jump down, without even giving it a second thought.
“You’re such an asshole.” I swat at him with both hands. “I mean it. I fucking hate you, Talon Porter.” His fingers grip my wrist, stopping my movements. His body presses against mine as he takes both of my arms into one hand and pushes me against an open space on the wall. With one of his hands free, he slides his open palm down my side, then to my ass, gripping it tightly. His touch sends a rush of adrenaline coursing through me.
“Guess what, baby girl?” he mutters into the thin air between us. “I hate me, too.”
“Why are you doing this?” I choke out. “Why won’t you just let me leave?”
My head tilts instinctively as his lips shadow my neck. “Shh,” he whispers, “No more questions.”
Closing my eyes, I fight hard against the feelings that are washing over my body. I fight the imprints of his touch on my skin, every tingle, and every craving for more. Swallowing hard, I try not to feel. Not anger, not fear, not hate, not the longing desire to have his hand between my thighs again. I hate myself even more than I hate him, because the way his body is ghosting me at this moment makes me want to invite him to take all of me. To possess me. To corrupt me—mind, body, and soul.
“Talon, I—” My voice cracks. Hushed, almost unrecognizable, I say, “I think we should go back with the others.”
“Since when are you such a scaredy cat? The Marni I remember is tough.” His lips continue to trail downward, grazing my collarbone. “She wouldn’t shake beneath any man.” His eyes find mine. I can barely see the color in them, just the black outline of his orbs.
“I am tough. And I’m not scared of you.”
Cold fingers wrap around my waist beneath my sweatshirt. They feel like ice on my bare skin, coursing up my rib cage. “If you’re so tough, why are you still standing here? Why not fight me off and leave?”
I draw in a ragged breath. “I can’t leave until I know this is over. That I won’t find another mysterious box in my bedroom or a cop at my door. I want to know that you guys will leave me alone.”
“Is that all? Or are you afraid that I’ll strap you to that chair and shock parts of your body that crave electricity?” His chest presses harder into me, sandwiching me between him and the wall.
Even if I tried to get away right now, I’d fail. I should try. But, I don’t. I hate that part of me likes the way his touch numbs my skin and his words warm my insides.
His index finger traces my jawline, then glides down my neck to my chest, then slowly down my side. Drawing in a deep breath, I’m unsure how long I was holding it. “I could make you feel so fucking good.”
Bringing my lower lip inward, I bite down, holding it between my teeth. My breaths are staggered as I question my own sanity. My mind begging him to keep going as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of my shorts. Tilting my head back, I let him have me at his mercy.
“Do you think I could make you feel good, baby girl?”
Yes.
“No.”
He chuckles. “I could make you see fucking stars if you let me.”
I’ll let you. Show me them. I beg in silence.
“Do you want me to make you feel good, Marni?” His voice is gruff and lust-filled.
Yes.
Only I don’t say it. Admitting defeat is n
ot something I’m able to do. If he knew how bad I wanted him to shove his fingers inside of me, he’d hold all the power.
He lifts my leg up, and lets it rest on his strong forearm. His hand pressing against the wall, holding me in place while his other hand slides up the leg of my shorts. I close my eyes tightly, internally begging him to do something. Anything to satisfy this undeniable urge to lose myself in him. I’m not even sure if it’s him that I want or just someone to make me feel good. I could just go home and get myself off. My hand moves under the fabric of his shirt.
As I creep higher, unknowingly searching for a grip while I succumb to temptation, his hand slaps it away. “Never do that again,” he gripes. His body tenses up for a sliver of second, but it doesn’t stop him.
Two fingers begin trickling the seams of my panties, and then, without warning, they plummet full force inside of me. My body jerks up as I let out a whimper. Each thrust sends me higher and higher as he fucks me with his fingers. “Oh god.” I moan, bringing my hands behind his head and gripping his hair in my fists. There is nothing soft and gentle about his movements. It’s so rough that it’s painful, but I crave more of the pain.
“Oh fuck.” I gasp, unable to control my outburst.
“You like that, baby girl?” he says, thrusting so deep that I can feel him in my stomach.
“Uh huh.” He sticks in another finger.
“Tell me that I make you feel good.”
When I don’t respond, he curls his fingers inside of me and digs deeper.
“Tell me!” he urges.
Succumbing to his demands, I choke out, “You make me feel good.”
His cock grinds against me as he dry fucks my leg that's still planted firmly on the floor. Completely out of control, I begin panting as he prods at my insides. So fast, so hard, and so unbelievably satisfying. My walls constrict as I feel the evidence of my orgasm pool around the half of his hand that’s shoved inside of me.
My leg begins to quiver in his hold, but he doesn’t stop. Even when I push my leg down with force to drop his arm, he continues to finger me with the same potency, thrusting his cock harder against me. “Fuck,” he growls, “you are soaked.”