I place my knee on the white cushion of the alcove and pull both bay windows closed, then flip the latch. I turn around, and a scream erupts from my mouth when I see a guy sitting on the opposite side of my bed with his back to me. He has his head down, facing the floor. A black hood pulled up, so I can’t see the back of his head. With matching black jeans. He sits with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
I’ve fallen onto the bench, pressing my back up against the windows. My heart races in my chest. He sits perfectly still—like a statue. Swallowing nervously, I try to remember any survival skills, but I got none. The thought crosses my mind of the serial killer documentary I just watched and how I’m about to be raped and hacked into a million fucking pieces before they’re buried under some psycho’s house. I’ll never be found.
By the way his broad shoulders pull against the black fabric, I’m guessing the guy has at least a hundred pounds on me. I’m five feet three and weigh a hundred and twelve pounds. I can’t fight off someone that size.
I sit paralyzed, waiting for him to stand. To turn and show me his face. The fact he’s hiding from me has to be a good sign, right? I’ve seen enough documentaries to know if they hide their face, they don’t want you to be able to identify them. If they do show their face … well, then they’ve already decided you’re gonna die.
I swallow nervously and push myself up when he just continues to sit there. I will my shaky legs to tiptoe over to my bed and snatch my phone off the nightstand to call 911. But it’s not there.
My stomach drops. I know I didn’t take it downstairs with me. That only leaves one other possibility—he has it.
“What … what do you want?” I ask and swallow the knot in my throat. I’m here all alone. Why isn’t he doing anything? Did Becky send him? Is this some sick joke she’s playing on me? It wouldn’t be the first time she’s tried to scare me. And since I made fun of her getting scared at Silence, I wouldn’t put it past her to retaliate.
A thought hits me, and I release a long, shaky breath. Halloween is coming up. My hands come to rest on my pounding chest. “Seth, knock it off.” The guy likes to scare me because he knows how much I enjoy it. Last year on Halloween, I just happened to be visiting my mother in Texas, and he dressed up as Jason and hid in the back seat of my car. When he popped up, I had just merged onto the highway and almost killed us both, barely missing the center median. We laughed about it afterward.
He swears he’s gonna scare the shit out of me. My eyes narrow on the back of his hoodie when he continues to just sit there. “Seth …”
The hallway and outside lights go out, cutting off my words and leaving us in complete darkness and total silence. I blink and suck in a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. Blood rushes in my ears, momentarily deafening me. What the hell is going on? Looking around, I notice that even the green light to my DVR is off. He’s cut the power. But how? It isn’t storming outside. The stars were out when I looked out my window a minute ago.
“This isn’t funny,” I snap, my chest aching from my heart beating so hard.
The silence swallows me, and I blink, trying to adjust myself to nothing. You know when you imagine a spider crawling on your arm, and you scratch at it as though it’s really there? That’s how I feel right now. I get that feeling creeping up my spine that has my fear rising again. It’s not Seth. He messaged me earlier that he had plans tonight when I asked him if he wanted to come over and watch a movie.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. Seconds pass before I hear footsteps. But they’re outside my bedroom door not inside. The banister creaks as they grip it with their hand, making their way slowly up the stairs. Oh, God no. There’s more of them. That’s why he hasn’t moved. He’s waiting for help. “Please …” I say as tears begin to sting my eyes, and my anger rises at how hopeless I am. “Just go …”
“Can’t do that,” a voice whispers from my right.
I jump and slap my hand over my mouth to keep from yelping in surprise. A hand gently touches my side, and I begin to shake. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” I scream this time.
Voices chuckle, and I try to catch my breath. I spin around in a circle. How many are in my room?
“To play a game,” a male voice says softly, right up against my ear. And I jerk away. My body heat rises at the closeness of a stranger in my room, and my hip runs into the corner of my nightstand. Shit! That’s gonna leave a bruise.
I reach over, wrap my fist around my lamp that I know sits on it, and throw it across the room. Seconds later, you hear it shatter against a wall. Not wanting to stand here like a sitting duck, I run for my bedroom door. If I can get downstairs or outside ... but just as my fingers wrap around the doorknob, a hand twists in my hair, yanking me to a stop. I cry out, my hands flying to the one that holds me. I claw at the hand as my scalp stings from them fisting my hair. “Please … don’t …”
My back is pulled into a hard body and another hand comes up and slaps over my mouth. I try to catch my breath through my nose, but it’s not working.
My chest rises and falls fast, and I cuss myself for not wearing more clothes. I’m your typical cliché in every horror movie. The one I laugh at when she ends up getting stabbed or dismembered in a brutal fashion.
A warm breath hits my ear as the person who holds me leans down to whisper. A shiver of fear runs through me at the same time my thighs tighten. “I thought you wanted this, Becky?”
My entire body stiffens at his words. And not because of how he called me by my sister’s name but because of who said it.
Deke!
My fear is doused like fucking water thrown on a fire and replaced with anger. I start to squirm in his hold and try to twist around to punch him, kick him, anything. When it gets me nowhere, I lean my head forward the best I can and then slam it back. I smile when it makes contact with something, and he growls.
He removes his hand from my mouth, and I suck in a deep breath. “You motherfucker …”
He lets go of my hair, and before I can run to the door again, he wraps an arm around my waist, picks me up like a rag doll, and tosses me onto my bed, face down. My fists grip the already tangled comforter, and I try to crawl away, but he jumps on top of me, straddling my ass, and his force makes my headboard slam against the wall. His weight pushes my body down into my mattress. I try to push myself up with my hands, but he grabs them and yanks them behind my back.
“Deke …”
He crosses my wrists and wraps something hard and rough around them, and then I hear the zipper as he pulls it tight. Shit! The zip tie pinches my skin.
“Stop!” I fight him. He shifts, and then I’m rolled onto my back. I cry out as my hands get smashed underneath our weight.
He slaps his hand over my mouth again. This time pressing the back of my head into the bed and digging his fingers into my cheeks. I whimper just as my legs tighten, and my pussy begins to throb.
This can’t be happening …
His breath hits my face, and it smells like his gum that I had stolen from our kiss last night. His lips run along my jawline, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. “Last time, you didn’t tell me to stop.” Deke’s voice skims over my skin like a warm blanket—one he’s going to smother me with.
He removes his hand from my mouth, and I suck in a long breath.
I hear a chuckle behind me, and I know it must be Cole. I pant and then snap at him. “Get off me, Deke!”
His body shakes against mine with his laughter.
This fucker!
“But I wanna play. Don’t you want me to play with you?” He places both of his hands on my hips and slides them upward, pushing my shirt up a little in the process. Even though his fingers are as soft as a feather, they set my skin on fire.
“Deke …” I pause, my heart pounding and stomach tensing. I close my eyes, and that familiar burning sensation licks my skin.
“Yeah, Becky?” his soft voice says. Almost lovingly.
Again, calling me by her
name is like he’s dunking me into ice-cold water. “Fuck you, Deke!” I snap.
“I know you want me to fuck you, princess. I’m ready. Are you as wet for me this time, too?” He moves his hips, grinding them into mine, and he’s hard. Motherfucker … Just like last night at Silence.
My breath hitches, and my pussy begins to throb. They say that the reaction your body has to fear is similar to what you feel when you’re sexually aroused like an increase in your heart rate, breathing, and blood pressure. And I feel all of them right now. It makes my head spin. The fear of what he will do to me, and the arousal of what I want him to do to me.
Heat runs up my spine, and suddenly, what little clothes I have on are too many. The dark room too hot. “Oh God,” I whisper to myself. What is he doing to me? Will I stop him? I allowed him to touch me at Silence ’cause I liked that he thought I was Becky. I wanted him to think she gave in to him and that she actually still cared. I liked the look of surprise and confusion on his face. Now … now … he’s come to play, and I don’t know this game.
He chuckles in the darkness. “I can be your God, princess. Wanna get down on your knees and worship me?”
He grinds his hips into mine again, and I lift my hips to him. Needing more. Wanting more.
I’ve always been the girl who loved scary movies. The hunt. The kill. They fascinate me and turn me on. My mother tells me I’m sick and need to watch more Disney movies, and I tell her I don’t want to live in a fantasy world. I wanna live in a dark one. But maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m sick and need help. Because Deke breaking into my house, pretending to hurt me and tie me up should not turn me on, but fuck if it does. I’m so fucking wet for him right now. The way his hands grip my body like he owns it. His weight on top of me, pinning me down. And fuck, the way his cock presses the roughness of his jeans against my swollen clit. I could come right now.
A light flashes in the room, making me blink, but then it’s gone. “What …?”
He grinds his hips into mine again, and I forget it.
Is this how it was for him and Becky? Did they pretend to be someone else? Is that how he was able to put up with her for as long as he did?
He slides my shirt up farther, and a strangled moan leaves my lips when I feel the pads of his thumbs brush over my nipples. The cool air still lingers in my room, and the feel of his hands makes them harden.
I shudder.
“Deke.” I pant, my boy shorts soaked. My arms are still pinned underneath me, and they’re starting to go numb. He remains silent. The room is full of my heavy breathing, and I think I’m getting dizzy. It’s hard to tell because I can’t focus on anything due to the lack of light.
Another flash of light. What the hell is that?
I bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning when his right hand comes up and wraps around my throat. His free hand slides down my hip, his fingers setting my skin on fire before it dips between our bodies and to my boy shorts. He pulls them to the side, and I gasp when he slides a finger into me.
No warning and no asking for permission. It’s like he thinks he fucking owns me.
You’re allowing it, my mind shouts. I can’t tell him to stop. I can’t … “Fuck …” I arch my back, and my breath gets caught in my lungs when he adds a second one.
He’s so rough, it hurts, but in a way that makes me like it.
You’re sick, my mother would say.
I am. I’d have to agree.
“So fucking wet. Just like last time. Does this turn you on, babe? A stranger in your room? Taking advantage of you? You didn’t put up much of a fight. Or is it just me? Is it the fact that I call you Becky?” Someone laughs from behind me, and my face heats with embarrassment.
“Cole!” I growl, knowing who it is.
Deke chuckles. “He’s not gonna help you. He’s my soldier. And if you plan on going to war with me, you’re gonna need an army. ’Cause you can’t fight me on your own.”
I try to wiggle my arms, but it just makes the zip tie dig into my skin, and I cry out. Deke ignores it. “Tell me, princess. Do you want my mouth or my cock this time?”
He removes his fingers and then adds another, making me arch my back as I let out a strangled cry. It’s painful in the best way. His free hand is still wrapped around my throat, but it’s not cutting off my air. I’m panting and so fucking wet for this monster.
“Why do I have to choose one?” I mumble, my hips grinding against his fingers as they slow. I pump my hips, not wanting him to stop. I don’t give a fuck that Cole is here. Or the fact that I hate Deke Biggs. It feels too good. My body wants it. My mind is screaming for it. And it’s just one step closer to pissing my sister off.
She’ll hate me when she finds out he’s touched me. More than she already does. Perfect.
His thumb brushes over my clit, and I whimper.
“Greedy.” He kisses my stomach, and my body begins to shake. “I like that.” His lips pull away at the same time he removes his fingers. My body sags into the bed in disappointment. “Open,” he orders, his voice hardening, and I blink up at the darkness confused by what he means. But then I feel his fingers on my lips. Pushing my head back with his free hand, I open, and he shoves two fingers into my mouth. I suck on them like the good girl he wants me to be and taste myself, hoping he’ll reward me with another orgasm like last night. He lets out a growl as I lick them like they’re his cock. That thought makes me moan. Then suddenly, he removes them, and I pant, licking my wet lips.
His laughter fills the cold and dark room. My face flushes with embarrassment, and I’m thankful they can’t see me. He shifts his weight, and I feel his lips brush against mine. I suck in a nervous breath and don’t move. “You get neither,” he tells me with satisfaction.
Then he pulls away from me, and I hear his footsteps along with another walk out of my room and down the stairs, followed by the front door opening and shutting. Seconds later, I’m still lying on my bed looking up at nothing when all the lights come back on.
I roll over onto my stomach, panting. Knowing that he damn well left me here with my arms still tied behind my back on purpose. My underwear wet. My shirt shoved up to my neck and my hair feels like a tangled mess. I catch sight of my phone lying next to me, and I realize what those flashes of light were. Cole took pictures of me and Deke ’cause one of them is showcased on my screen.
“Fuuuuccckkk.” I think I just started a war with Deke Biggs. But what he doesn’t know about me is that I’m not like Becky. She can’t play like I can. She can’t think like I can. And she sure as hell can’t seduce him like I can.
Game on.
CHAPTER SIX
DEKE
“HAVE A NICE night.” I nod to the guy who sits in the guard shack.
He looks up from his phone and smiles at us. “Have a good night, boys. Cole, tell Austin I said hello.”
“Will do.” Cole pulls onto the road and hits the gas, shifting gears in his M4. I sit back in my seat and readjust my hard cock inside my jeans.
“She’s gonna be pissed you left her wrists tied.” Cole breaks the silence, but I hear the amusement in his voice.
“I know, but she’ll figure out how to get herself out of it.” I turn and throw my black bag into the back seat that I had dropped by her front door when we entered her house. I thought about using my handcuffs but then decided against it. I’d have to relieve her of those, and I had no desire to leave Demi Holt how I found her—free.
If she wants to be a little bitch, then I’ll give her a reason to. It wasn’t hard to find out what I needed to know. A look online showed me that her mother and stepdad were in New York for business reasons. The pic that graced social media had them dining at an expensive hotel a few hours ago. And a look at Becky’s Facebook assured me she was not at home—she was back in Collins. She may have deleted me as a friend, but she keeps all her shit public. It’s like she wants me to get jealous that she allows men to hang all over her. Like I fucking care who she spreads her legs for.
That time has passed.
“You know I’ve always got your back,” Cole starts, “but I’m curious. What exactly are you trying to accomplish by playing with her?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly, running a hand down my face. “Just wanna let her know where she stands.” Demi needed to be thrown off her high horse she rides with a smug smile. I think leaving her pussy wet and her wrists restrained in her bed is a good start.
I liked the way her voice shook when she thought I was there to hurt her. The fear I heard when she asked what I wanted. It matched the same that Becky had when she found out I knew all her secrets. I held all the cards and had all the power.
She needs to remember that I do.
She thought I was Seth at first, and that pissed me off. Knowing that she had allowed me to touch her when she was clearly unavailable makes her just like her cheating, lying sister. But still, I can’t help but wonder, is that how they do it? He dresses up as a burglar and sneaks into her room before taking advantage of her? She plays the role of victim, fighting him off, but she eventually gives up and lets him win?
I could totally get into that.
Fuck!
Don’t think that way. She is off-limits. Untouchable. I just wanted to scare her. I wasn’t going to force myself on her because I’m not a rapist. But I wanted her to know that I was the one who made that decision, not her. I had told myself it was nothing sexual. To get in, scare the shit out of her, and get the fuck out. But shit, she got turned on. More so than when she was at Silence last night. I wasn’t even planning on touching her in any way, but when she moaned, I went hard. Then she lifted her hips, silently begging me for more. I fingered her again—as though she belonged to me—when I had no right to touch her.
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