by Hazel Grace
Tell him why I can’t tell my sister that I have you on my property.
That I had to keep shit from her.
“I...he—”
“Quickly,” I snap. “Your dad and the asshole next to him have a date later.”
“What?” Her voice is filled with dread because she already knows what I’m capable of.
And how much I don’t care.
“Tell him.”
I want him to actually fear for her life. I need to convince him to speak because I haven’t done all the things I have conjured up to his daughter so I can get some damn answers.
“He tried to drown me,” she says quickly.
Her father doesn’t remove the scowl from his face. “You think keeping her is going to sway me?”
“So, I should add shitty-ass father to the mix too?”
I expect him to tell me no. That he doesn’t want me to hurt her anymore. That he wants to speak to me alone—fucking anything other than what he answers with.
“I never wanted her,” he states. “But I wasn’t going to put her in the system, figured she’d be better off.”
I clench my teeth together. He’s either fucking with me, and my limits or he really doesn’t give two fucks.
Stormi remains quiet behind me, and I wish I could see her face. This could all be a game they play to make me feel sorry for her. To let her loose since she’s given me nothing. “Have you fucked her yet?” Hollis recites, drawing my focus. His eyes are narrowed in on me, the first emotion towards her from either man since I brought her in.
“Do you think I’m going to be answering questions from you, dickhead?” I leer. His gaze flicks behind my shoulder to her.
It sends another wave of anger through my veins and confirms what I already knew. They’re an item—a team. He has feelings for her of some kind. Whether it be from his heart or his cock, it doesn’t matter, he just outed himself.
“Did you let him stick his dick in you?” Hollis finally asks her, conviction laced in his tone. “Did you bend over because he’s younger and—”
“Shut the hell up, Hollis,” Stormi’s dad mutters. “I told you that she was out of your league.”
“Young pussy is out of my league?” He lets out an incredulous scoff. “I’d say it’s right in my wheelhouse. Especially when I was getting her off on your couch. That pussy was so fucking wet. I couldn’t wait to fuck it and her ass when—” My blade pierces his shoulder.
It yanks in memories of how I found Stormi the first time we officially “met”. Her laid back on the couch with her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, Hollis’s fingers thrusting into her while her eyes were closed.
I remember it vividly. “Don’t talk unless I speak first,” I growl into his face. “You want to chat about Reagan Lockwood or no? Because you have a date later, and I don’t want you to miss it.”
Which includes Bishop’s element of choice; fire. “You stupid motherfucker,” he quakes before eyeing my weapon in his body. “I hope that bitch died.”
“She didn’t,” I deadpan. “Because your associate—” I jerk my head in Stormi’s direction. “—didn’t do her job right.”
Hollis’s face falls, his eyes trailing back to Stormi. “Yeah...she’s a better shot.” And there it is—another confirmation. For a split second, from time to time, I began to doubt my own judgment. That the woman behind me couldn’t withstand what I put her through without spilling something vital that I needed.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I can feel her observation of me, it licks up my back and shoots disappointment rippling through my frame.
I don’t know why I thought she was different. “Maybe,” I reply slowly. “But she’s good at keeping her mouth shut when I half-drown her.”
And her lips were fucking flawless.
“Drown her?” Hollis repeats. “So, you haven’t fucked her yet?” My fist flies into his face before I step back.
I’m not going to pummel him to a pulp over his fuck buddy, his fascination, whatever the hell she is to him, and what they are.
It’s none of my business. My own attraction for her is purely just her looks. It doesn’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things. I got to come within feet of her—I’m good now.
“Sounds like someone has a girl crush.” Hollis’s tone is meant to taunt, but I’m unaffected by it.
I’m way passed over Stormi.
To the point where the Glock residing in my back pocket sounds like a an appropriate ending for the both of us.
I can be done babysitting her, and she can pay the price for what she did to Reagan.
There is no point in keeping her around any longer.
Movement flanks my side. Cautious and fairy-like steps towards her dad as Stormi walks closer.
I don’t move, intrigue getting the best of me and what she’s going to do, say, what she might know, and decide to shed.
“Dad,” she whispers. “This is serious. He believes that we did something.”
“He can think what he wants.” He glares at her as if he actually hates the sight of her. “You played a role in this too.”
“Me?” She points at herself, then wipes more blood off her chin. “I didn’t do—”
“You’ve been fucking around with Hollis for God knows how long. Acting just like your whore of a mother. What’s missing is the needle marks and the simple fact that—”
“Leave her alone,” Hollis chides. “You weren’t taking care of her.” Stormi’s father snaps his neck to his buddy. “She had a fucking roof over her head, didn’t she?”
“And you might as well just have thrown a ‘for free’ sign on her chest because I had to fuck up two of your buddies for touching her.”
My jaw sets.
What the fuck is going on here?
“Who hired you to kill Reagan Lockwood?” This directed at anyone in the room.
And for the first time, it falls deathly silent.
I reach for Stormi and haul her into my side. “Should I touch her too?” I digress, placing her in front of me. “She’s beautiful. Better yet—” I lean forward, brushing my lips to the back of her ear and flick my attention to Hollis. “—maybe I should have you as an audience.”
His eyes darken. “That’s my piece of ass.”
“Not anymore. Finders keepers, motherfucker.” He hurls himself in my direction but is halted short from the chains above him.
“You’re going to die, boy.” I give him a lop-sided grin. “Not before you and the girl.”
“It’s alright.” His expression changes from pissed to menacing. “I wanted to fuck the Lockwood chick, but my lady right here—” He nods at Stormi. “—didn’t want me passing my cock around.”
Blackness.
I hide in it.
I live there.
It makes me feel unstoppable.
It also shrouds my brain from keeping up to my actions. My fists sweep out and blow into his face, his frame, anything they can land on.
It’s my farewell because the next time I come here, in this abandoned warehouse that Bishop found, he’ll be taking his last breath in a pool of his own blood. Missing limbs, fingers, pieces of his flesh.
I can’t keep going back and forth anymore. As much as Reagan is suffering from the aftermath of what happened to her, I’m in a similar boat and just want this over.
“ Enough .” The word barbs around my actions and halts my fists. It registers the direction and tone and— Hell, no. That wasn’t her.
“My dad and I don’t know anything.” Stormi’s vow strikes my ears. “Just let us go.”
Let us go. Too bad I’m not in the mood for listening to lies and fake news. However, I notice she doesn’t mention Hollis in that sentence.
Maybe they are just fuck buddies, after all. “What you want or need, sweetheart, isn’t something I give a fuck about.” I glance over my shoulder to find her already looking over at me.
If I didn’t say she was stunning
before, right now, she’s positively gut-wrenching. Recognition dawns on her face, and I should feel somewhat euphoric that I broke her hope.
Except, I don’t feel anything. I am so stressed about becoming a failure to my sister and her family. That it shouldn’t be taking me this long to figure this out, and nothing is lining up.
“Enjoy your last days,” I vouch towards Hollis and her father while watching Stormi hug herself.
“Enjoy yours, fucker,” he shoots back. I don’t know what that means, don’t really give a fuck because I’m already going up the stairs so that I can leave them to it.
“Let’s go, Stormi.” She hits the steps a few seconds later, as my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Emmy: Where is the girl?
Me: Up your ass and around the corner.
Emmy: Bring her back to the cabin.
Me: No.
Emmy: Do it. I have a plan.
He dragged me through a set of thick woods, telling me that this place should look familiar. It doesn’t.
We passed a beautiful log cabin with a magnificently large deck surrounding it and flowers that are ready to bloom. Some have already matured into brilliant colors, contrasting against the gray stonework that was supporting two massive wooden beams that led to the entry door. The grass was freshly cut, and a firepit laid out in the backyard with thick logs covered with tribal looking blankets for seating.
As much as I wanted to enjoy the landscape and construction of the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen, I can’t help the apprehension that creeps through my veins.
A secluded area where no one would find me would be the perfect spot to kill and bury someone.
When we reached the back of the property where the woods thickened again, Emric guided me down a narrow, dirty trail edged by tall grass and weeds.
His grip on me never loosens, and he hasn’t said a word since we left the extensive warehouse building that Hollis and Dad are being kept in.
I press my lips together at the disappointing thought of my father. His sharp words slapped me in the face when Emric shared that he hurt me. No signs of worry or anguish that I was being held hostage showcased off Dad’s features.
He was emotionless. As though he couldn’t care less. I tried to incorporate in my brain that it could be an act. If Dad expressed how much it bothered him, it might have given Emric an edge.
Mind you, I don’t know why Dad just won’t tell him he knows nothing. Maybe he’s calling a bluff or something.
Neither decision makes me feel any better; however, it’s hard to believe that my only parent doesn’t give a crap about me.
I’m his only daughter. We don’t always speak or have the best relationship, but I’m still his blood.
Dad has either the best poker face I’ve ever seen, or he just laid out all his cards—he doesn’t care.
Emric was clearly dissatisfied with how things turned out. It’s the only thing I can agree with him on.
I’m still within his clutches and got hurt again, which is turning into a trend ever since I had the misfortune of meeting him.
Now I landed here. In an underground bunker of some sort that’s nestled in the middle of the trees we walked through, away from civilization.
Not the ideal situation. The large room smells of pine now that my head has cleared, which is inviting if I wanted to be here. Except a hard shove greets me next, abruptly landing my butt on the charcoal-colored couch as I was studying the dome-like ceiling.
Then I’m instantaneously met with narrowed hazel eyes and a deep frown lining Emric’s lips.
“Don’t touch a fucking thing,” he snarls, his vast-set frame precariously towering over me. “This is temporary.” I clasp my hands in my lap, as his gaze falls on my t-shirt. “Take it off.”
“Again?” I can’t. One, because...just no. Two, because I’m not comfortable in my skin like that. Three, no.
Emric takes a menacing step in my direction and reaches around his back, pulling out his Glock from earlier. “Do you want another gunshot to match the other side of your body—” He points it there. “—or do you just prefer to remove it on your own?”
My body involuntarily shakes as I touch the hem of my tee. “Why do I need to?” His body impedes closer. “Because I fucking said so.” With only a second of hesitation, I begin to slowly drag it over my head. There’s no use in arguing with him, I’m never going to win.
Throwing my tee at him, I immediately cover myself but recognize my hands don’t hide everything. He doesn’t catch it, nor does he conceal how his eyes swallow me up.
I tuck my chin into my collarbone, feeling every flick of his sights on me. My nipples pucker underneath my white bra. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and I want to shrivel up into nothing.
It’s embarrassing enough that I watched him have sex with another woman and listened to the things he said to me.
That he’s imagined us and wondered how tight I’d be if he got the chance to fuck me.
When his hazel eyes belted into me as he jacked off and smeared himself over my lips, still boring into me with a lust-repleted stare.
For a split second, I wasn’t bound by zip-ties and gagged with a cloth duct-taped in my mouth. I was there, imagining him on top of me, his lips pressed into the column of my neck and sweeping up my warm skin with the tip of his tongue.
“Now I can see what the fuss is all about,” Emric mutters, his voice deep and tearing me from my inappropriate thoughts.
Bending down to swipe up my shirt, he pivots and strides away, giving me some well-needed space to breathe again.
His presence is always a heavy weight on my chest. He soaks up everything in the room, making me feel smaller and cowardly.
And now we’re out in the middle of nowhere, and I’m worse off here than I was at my last prison cell. That woman in the apartment must’ve been half-deaf for not hearing me.
Or she was that enraptured by Emric’s good looks and body when he took his own shirt off. I can honestly and perturbedly say that I gaped at it myself.
Emric was magnificently built, a monster formed from the devil himself. He was a lure of everything a woman would want in the looks department. He’s not the definition of a bad boy because his idea of a good time doesn’t seem to be fake chivalry or how untouchable he is.
Emric is the latter. But that’s only because he’ll slit your throat before you can bat an eyelash or steal a graze of him. He’s a man with a persistent attitude and mind that won’t be swayed. As stubborn as a mule, constructed to destroy, and as beautiful as a song.
However, put any woman in my shoes, and they’ll quickly find that his touch doesn’t send wistful emotions and goosebumps coursing through you.
“Move out of that seat—” Emric’s voice booms suddenly, producing my head to snap
up. “—and I’ll break something.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond or agree, marching back up the stairs that we came down and disappearing around the corner.
The eerie silence hastily swallows the room, allowing me a moment away from Emric’s sour mood before I hear the softness of a woman’s voice.
You know the saying curiosity killed the cat? Well, I’m already dead, but I have something that might work in my favor. Emric’s knife—the one he used and stuck into Hollis. I don’t know where I got the courage to pull a metal object out of someone’s flesh, but I took the only opportunity I had.
And it now dwells in my back pocket. Hollis pointed the blame on me when he didn’t correct Emric on my being involved in this. He made me sound more and more like what Emric probably believed in his head.
A better shot? I’ve never held a gun, nor have I ever seen one in real life until Emric’s. He was my only chance of clearing things up, and he devastated it. Made it appear as though he and I were lovers, which is entirely far from the truth.
Ever so slowly and quietly, I make my way to the bottom of the staircase, hearing the murmuring of voices. Even though they are speaking
low, I can still make out the female’s. Another woman whose possibly here to see him for sex?
Placing my foot on the bottom stair, then the next one, I’m hoping so. I don’t dare push my luck further by turning the corner, but I don’t need to.
The female is loud enough and irritated. “You’ve had her for awhile,” she grumbles. “Let me take a crack at her.”
“No.” That coming from Emric.
“Why?”
“Because I fucking said,” he replies.
“Then why did you bring her here? Yards away from—”
“I got it.” I hear a blatant scoff, the woman not fully convinced.
Who is she?
She obviously knows I’m here but “take a crack at her”? There are more people like him?
No thanks.
“Obviously, not if you still don’t know who’s behind Reagan’s attempted assassination,” she leers.
“Mind your own fucking business, Emmy. I’m putting her down tonight.” I’m not sure if he says anything else. All I hear is the violent thudding in my ears as my biggest and most prominent suspicion comes full force. My heart pulses and pounds in my chest as I back away from the steps.
I’m putting her down tonight.
Shaking my head, tears begin to form and burn my eyes, finding it hard to imagine that I won’t wake up for another day.
That this is it for me.
How I desired more in life, and I took it all for granted. I’ll never get married and have my own home. My last night of freedom was with Hollis’s fingers inside me, practically drooling at the fact that I let him touch me.
And I did.
I’m a waste of a human being. I could’ve become so much more if I had just pushed myself to be better than my upbringing. With the way things were going before Emric busted through our front door, I may as well have just sat back and waited patiently for all dad’s friends to molest me because I never did anything about their advances. My objections were weak and probably sounded inviting to their ears.