Hunted (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 13)

by Cassandra Faye

  "Fuck, you feel so good." Jared moans low, the sound ending on a growl as he slows down, driving in as deep as he can go before sliding back just as slow. It's a whole new layer of torture, forcing me to feel every stroke, every inch, stoking the steadily building pleasure inside me. "Yesss... just like that."

  When he suddenly pulls out of me, I feel like my desperate prayers might have finally been answered, but then there's only agony again as he flips me onto my back. The pulse from my leg is enough to turn my stomach, only made worse when he bends my knees toward my shoulders. My scream is weak though, and he's back inside me a breath later, fucking me even harder. There's a war going on in my head over chemicals, mixed signals firing between agony and the oncoming bliss. Terror and relief. Panic and acceptance.

  "You're so beautiful like this, Harper," he says, and he sounds so much like my Jared that it makes my heart break. "Completely and totally mine."

  I'm starting to feel light-headed and it's the first mercy I've felt all day, but as my barriers fall, I can feel an orgasm slowly building inside the confusing haze. He leans over me, but the throb of my thigh is distant as he spreads my legs, somehow stretching me even further with his next thrust.

  "See? When you submit to me, I can make you like it," he whispers against my lips, and when he kisses me, I don't have the energy to fight him. I let him claim my mouth, nipping my lip as the buzz of his groan vibrates low in his chest. "I'm going to make you come for me as I fill you up."

  Wait... no.

  I force my eyes open and my stomach drops when I see the black void staring back at me. There's no green in his eyes, only darkness. Pitch-black and empty. Like marbles. I try to move, weakly pushing at his chest, but he moves my arms and pins them to the ground next to my shoulders, shaking his head slowly.

  "No more of that, Harper. I told you I was going to claim you." Jared thrusts hard, picking up the pace again, and I can't look away from the terrifying emptiness of his eyes. "Now, I'm going to breed you. Make you mine inside and out..."

  "No," I whine, crying again as I try to pull at his painful hold on my wrists.

  "And once you're round with my child, you'll understand this was meant to be. That this was exactly what you needed." He groans, his eyes closing for a moment, and I take the opportunity to clench mine tight, unable to look into Jared's face to see... that. "It's what we both need, Harper."

  I shake my head, the movement making me even dizzier, but at this point I'd happily pass out just to make it stop.

  "Come on, babe. I know you want to come with me."

  I don't. I don't want to be here at all. I want it all to be a dream, a horrible nightmare that I'm going to wake up from at any moment, and I'm hoping that the low hum in my ears is the abyss of unconsciousness finally pulling me in.

  Except, it doesn't stop.

  It gets louder. Buzzing in a strange, high-pitched way that makes my ears feel strange.

  "Do you see now?" Jared asks, and his voice sounds like it's buzzing too. When I open my eyes to look, all I can see is him and a thick fog. It's everywhere, all around us, over us, shimmering in the sunlight that can't quite penetrate it. I breathe and I can feel it moving over my lips, the cool, tingling texture of it rolling down my throat, filling me up, and when I breathe it out, I'm humming.

  "What..." I try to ask what's happening, but the sensation is building, as if every cell in my body is suddenly buzzing at the same frequency as the sound. The next time Jared thrusts it rebounds across my nerves, scattering light inside me, and all I can do is gasp, pulling in more of the strange mist.

  "You're mine now, Harper. Forever," he whispers, and I can't even focus enough to remember why I was afraid. There's no pain, no exhaustion, just an infinite hum and a rising tide of pleasure that swells every time he fills me. It's perfect bliss, and a promise of ecstasy if I just give in.

  Relax. Open. Accept him.

  It seems so easy. A whisper in my mind that makes my muscles go slack, releasing the last of the fear just before my back arches and I feel the friction of each thrust with perfect clarity. Jared's skin is warm against mine, his lips brushing my neck as he whispers my name over and over, and I try to lift my hips to meet his, but it's hard to move. His fingers wrap around my hip to keep me still, and I melt into his kiss, our tongues brushing as I moan, the tension building inside me until I can't handle it anymore.

  The orgasm is explosive, a riotous burst of light behind my eyes in a hundred colors that fills my bloodstream and shatters me into a million pieces of electric euphoria. As if I've pulled him over the edge with me, I feel Jared thrust deep, his cock kicking as he fills me with jets of heat, a low growl echoing in my ear as I sink into an endless sea of peace.

  No pain. No fear.

  Just blissful, perfect nothing.

  The world is wrong when I start to wake up.

  My head is pounding, and I hurt everywhere. I hurt so much. A croaked cry slips past my lips as I force my eyes open, too weak to lift my head. There's skin, and feet, and ground, and I'm pretty sure I'm upside down.

  "We're almost home." That's Jared's voice, but it doesn't explain anything.

  It's hard to think, like the worst hangover I've ever felt, but slowly I start to put things together. Jared is carrying me over his shoulder, and I'm a thousand points of pain held together by skin and bones. Pain that Jared caused.

  "Down," I whisper, my voice slurring over the simple word, but he just keeps walking even though every step sends a ripple of agony spreading out through my body. "Please."

  "You can't walk, Harper. That's why I'm carrying you."

  The reboot happening inside my skull is taking its sweet time, but memories are starting to flicker through. Him telling me to run, the endless forest, the exhaustion, and then the arrow. I'm bleeding. Oh God, how long have I been bleeding?

  As if in an attempt to answer, when I lift my head, everything swims. It's not good. None of this is good, and I know I'm not safe with Jared. He hurt me. Shot me, and then hurt me again. On the ground, face down in the dirt.

  "DOWN!" I shout, trying to move, but Jared just tightens his hold on my legs which makes my stomach flip-flop as a fresh wave of torture steals all the air from my lungs on a cry.

  "You have to stop struggling. I've been carrying you for a while, and that's after I tracked you for over five hours. Give me a break, okay?" He sounds amused, like he thinks this is funny, and I'm about to try and get down again when I see the ground change to the thin grass and old gravel of the clearing. "Almost inside."

  "No..." I whine, but he ignores me as he flips me upright again, catching me against his chest to steady me at the base of the steps to the front door.

  "Figured we should do this the right way." Jared grins and leans down, scooping me into his arms. My scream chokes off as he adjusts me and a second stab of agony overwhelms the first. "Have to carry you over the threshold, right?"

  "Please don't hurt me," I beg, and he just looks down at me in his arms like I've just told him I love him.

  "Here we are!" he announces, bending to turn the doorknob before he kicks it open and carries me inside as he mimics the wedding march. "Dum, dum, de dum!"

  I gasp in pain when he lays me on the couch, but I'm just relieved that he's not touching me anymore. I can remember all of it, every horrible thing until I blacked out while he was still fucking me. "Jared... I need to go to the hospital. Please, you have to—"

  "You don't need anyone except me now, Harper. You're mine."

  Shaking my head, I look down at my legs and realize his shirt is tied tight around my thigh, soaking up my blood. Not that it's enough to keep me alive, and I try my best not to think about the kind of infections I might be contracting from all the dirt embedded in the gash. "No, Jared. I'm not okay right now. Do you understand? You shot me with a fucking arrow!"

  "It was a graze, babe. I just needed to slow you down, and I made it up to you, right?" Grinning, he sits on the edge of the couch, catchin
g my arm easily when I try to hit him. "Harper, you felt it too. I saw you. You connected with the forest and then... fuck. You came so hard. Your pussy clenched my cock like a vise."

  "No, I didn't connect with the forest. That's not real, Jared." I'm trying to get through to him, but there's not a single hint of awareness in his eyes. He just pats my hand before he suddenly stands up.

  "Hold on! I know what we're missing." I watch as he rushes into the bedroom, and all I can feel is panic, because I don't think he's planning on getting me help.

  This can't be real.

  I'm going to fucking die in this stupid cabin with my batshit crazy boyfriend, and no one even knows where I am.

  "Harper, you have no idea how wonderful this is," he says as he walks back into the living room wearing a goofy grin that I used to think was cute. A lifetime ago, before he lost his mind and tried to kill me. "I thought I needed to do something special, something perfect, but I just didn't know what I was waiting for. It was this. I was waiting for this, for us to come here together so the land could accept you. That means you're a part of me, a part of my family. We're bound together for life, and now I can finally give you this."

  Jared lifts a small box, holding it toward me as he opens it, revealing a sparkling engagement ring.

  Tears well in my eyes as pieces of a puzzle I didn't know was there finally click into place. This is why he was acting so weird before this trip. It wasn't about the goddamn cabin, or some secret hike up a mountain... he wanted to ask me to marry him. It's just another level of cruelty in this nightmare, because I would have loved the beautiful ring if he'd given it to me yesterday, or last week, or a fucking year ago — but not now.

  "You can't be serious," I whisper, and his brows pull together, his smile dissolving as he looks down at the ring and then up at me again.

  "It's a ring," he says, like it's some kind of explanation, as if I don't already know that it's a goddamn ring.

  "I know it's a fucking ring, Jared! Why the hell are you trying to give it to me right now? I'm bleeding on your fucking couch! You HURT me!" Grabbing onto my head, I bite down on a scream, feeling like I might be joining him in lalaland pretty soon if the world doesn't start making sense again fast.

  "You have to wear it. It's how everyone knows you're mine." He plucks it out of the box and I just stare at him.

  "No, Jared. NO! Can you seriously not understand that word?" I shout, leaning closer to him. "You're fucking crazy!"

  "No, this is how it's meant to be. You're mine now, Harper, and we're going to start a family, and you have to wear my ring." Jared grabs my hand, but I'm not a match for his strength as he forces the ring onto my finger. "You're my wife."

  I'm about to argue when the ring feels like it's burning me. I barely have time to gasp when there's a terrifying rush that makes me sick to my stomach for a moment before it disappears as suddenly as it came — and then Jared collapses.

  He starts shaking violently, and instinct takes over as I shift to the floor beside him, trying to remember what the fuck you're supposed to do for someone having a seizure. Desperate, I wrap my hands around the back of his head, trying to stop him from banging it against the wood, but I jump back when he opens his eyes and they're pitch black.

  His eyes.

  They looked just like that when he was on top of me. It's one of the last things I remember before I blacked out, and the fear is unavoidable as I scramble away from him, my back pressed to the couch as he finally goes still.

  And then I see smoke coming out of his mouth. Except it's not smoke. It's too... transparent, too shiny. It's like mist pouring out of him and fading through the wood floor, and what starts as a trickle turns into a rush. Covering him, expanding outward, and I pull myself up onto the couch to avoid it touching me, but I start coughing anyway. The air tastes strangely sweet, in the most horrifying way, and as another wracking cough makes my ribs ache, I feel something cold on my tongue... and mist puffs out of me with each subsequent cough.

  Impossible. This is fucking impossible.

  If I could get enough air in to scream between the coughs, I would, but by the time I finally stop I'm in too much shock to do anything except watch as the last silver tendrils coil out of Jared's mouth.

  Staring at him, I feel things in my head aligning, shifting, and I remember the mist in the woods. It was everywhere, and I breathed it in. And then I did come, I did... but it wasn't me. Not really.

  It didn't feel like me.

  I can't stop shaking, and I know I should check on Jared because he hasn't moved for several minutes. I'm not even sure if he's breathing, and I'm starting to wonder if he's dead when he suddenly gasps, sitting up straight.

  "HARPER!" he shouts, and his eyes are wide, panicked, but they're not black anymore. His face crumples in pain, a choked cry as he turns over, bracing his hands on the floor just before he starts to throw up.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Jared's eyes may not be black anymore, but the stuff he's throwing up on the floor definitely is and based on the sounds he's making it seems to hurt... but I don't move closer to him. I can't make myself, even though I'm more than a little worried about everything happening.

  I'm still afraid of him, and I don't know which version of him is with me now.

  14

  Jared

  I think battery acid is pouring out of me.

  I don't actually know what battery acid looks like, but I'm relatively sure it feels exactly like this. My throat is on fire, my stomach feels like I ate a few dozen lightbulbs, and I can't stop shaking.

  Another wave of the disgusting shit wells up in my throat and I throw up again, but then it seems to slow. After a few more minutes of shaking on my hands and knees, one last bubble of it hits the back of my throat and I do my best to spit everything out. It's solid black, completely dark, and yet somehow the wood is absorbing it without changing color at all. I try to focus on breathing and not the uncomfortable burning that seems to be everywhere at once. I can't think straight at all, but a single thought is running on repeat in the chaos.

  Protect Harper.

  The words clang like a warning bell inside me, and I wipe my mouth on my arm as I sit down on the floor, determined to find her, to keep her safe. When I finally lift my head, relief flashes through me for a brief second when I see Harper on the couch, but then all my hope disintegrates as I actually look at her. She's curled up at the farthest edge of the couch, streaked with dirt and blood, and I wish more than anything that I didn't recognize my shirt tied around her leg, soaked in even more blood.

  I failed her.

  Pain lances through my skull, my head pounding, but I keep my teeth clenched tight against the urge to scream as images, memories pour into my mind. Sorting and filtering until I have a complete and horrifying understanding of exactly why Harper looks like that.

  I didn't just fail her. I did this to her.

  If there was anything left in my stomach, I'd be throwing it up, but there's nothing. Panic hits me hard in the chest and my lungs go tight. I can't breathe, I can't look at her, and as I shove myself backward, putting more space between us, I have the very clear and decisive urge to put the fucking gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.

  But... I can't. Not yet anyway.

  She's still bleeding. She needs a fucking hospital, and since I made absolutely sure to wound her right leg, she can't even drive herself away from here. Another flash of her under me in the woods shows up front and center in my mind and I cover my face with my hands, rocking on the floor as the memory plays in my head like a horror movie that I can't turn off. "Oh God... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  "Jared?" The way she says my name, so nervous, so fearful, just drives the horror deeper. I can't even respond to her. I don't deserve to speak to her.

  "I'll get help. I—" My words choke off in my chest when I look up at her again. There are scratches on her face, bruises everywhere, and I keep hearing the way she screamed. Over and over again. Scr
ambling to my feet, I stagger to the side when my head swims, but I manage to catch myself on the hearth and stumble in a wide arc around her and into the kitchen. I remember where the first aid kit is, under the sink, and I drop to my knees in front of it, not giving a fuck how much it hurts to move right now. When I rip the cabinet open, I don't just find the large box of first aid supplies... Dad's satellite phone is there too. Grabbing both of them, I move to the far end of the couch, keeping as much distance between myself and Harper as I can. Setting the kit on the coffee table, I move backward to the bedroom. "I am so sorry, Harper. I... I'm going to get you help. I promise."

  "Jared, wait!" she calls after me, but I shut the bedroom door and lean against it.

  I can't look at her. Every glance pulls another memory into the front of my head, and I can't focus on that right now. I have to get her help, and as the satellite phone powers on, I manage to walk to the bed and sit down before I hit the floor. I feel weaker than I can remember. My muscles are burning, exhausted, it still hurts to breathe, and my hand won't stop stinging. The little screen on the phone lights up and before I even realize what number I'm dialing, the phone is ringing.

  "This is Charlie." My dad's voice coming over the line has me speechless. How the fuck do I tell him what I've done? I hear road noise in the background, and I know he's in his car, probably running some errand for my mom, or Ollie, or Addison. "Hello?"

  "Dad," I whisper and my voice cracks, my chest burning from the effort of holding back the sudden swell of emotion.

  "Jared? Is that you?" The concern in his tone makes me groan because I'm not the one he needs to be worried about.

  Clearing my throat, I sniff hard and try to sound less like an utter fucking train wreck. "Yeah, Dad. I... I did something bad."

  "Okay..." His voice drops, and I remember it from a thousand 'serious' conversations we've had over the years. "Tell me what's going on, Jared. Are you still at the cabin?"