by Amo Jones
“Holy shit,” I whisper. I’m completely aware at how I’m working myself up. My pulse slowly drops and I press the button, starting the car.
“Call Tatum,” I order the Bluetooth, just as I’m pulling out of the garage.
“Calling Tatum,” she replies, and I hit the stereo on just as Figure’s “The Exorcist” starts pumping through the speakers. Turning it down a little low so I can hear Tatum, she picks up almost instantly, and I let her and the music calm me.
Except you turned on a remix song for The Exorcist. Who are you trying to calm? Your ninth demon?
“Girrrl!” Tatum squeals down the phone, her voice doused in muffled drunk tones and loud music.
I laugh, pulling onto the main highway that will take me to where they are. According to my GPS, it’s a thirty-minute drive into literally the middle of nowhere. “What?”
“This party is puuumping! And, oh my God!” she slurs. Oh dear. “Carter put us on the flattest part of the ground, you know, like sort of beside him, which is shady as fuck! But still, everyone else’s tents are a little lopsided.” She giggles and then burps. “Oops. ‘Scuse me.”
“Tate?” I laugh. “Slow down or you won’t be able to meet me when I get there. Remember, I have no service. Where’s Tillie?”
“She’s here somewhere.” She brushes me off. “Hurry up! We need you! Oh! And the Kings aren’t here. You’re safe!”
Shaking my head. “Okay, I’ll see you in thirty minutes! Get someone sober to come with you.”
She hangs up the phone. The Kings aren’t there? That’s odd, considering they were so hell-bent on making my life miserable. They must have found a new toy to play with. I should be happy, but another side of me—the girly side—wants to know what the fuck I did wrong.
Turning the volume to full blast on the radio, I let Disturbed’s lyrics from “Tyrant” absorb all my feelings. Just as I hit the exit, my phone lights up on the seat.
Unknown – Run
I swerve on the road, headlights flashing ahead of me and taking my attention away from my phone. Just as I correct the car back onto the road, another text lights up.
Unknown – Amateur move. I really hoped that would have killed you once and for all.
Throwing my phone onto the ground, I look in my rearview mirror but see nothing. No headlights, nothing but darkness and the passing glow from the street markings. A bead of sweat forms on my forehead, so I swipe it away. Am I being stalked? What the fuck is going on? Glancing down to my phone that’s on the floor on the passenger side, I ignore the incoming text and concentrate on making sure I get there in once piece.
“You have reached your destination,” the GPS announces, just as I pull down a dark, bumpy gravel road.
“And where exactly is that?” I ask myself. Two seconds later, my phone lights up on the floor again and I roll my eyes, reaching over and scooping it up. Sliding it unlocked, I open it onto the recent message.
Unknown – Hell
My panic starts to kick in and I look in my rearview mirror again, only to find I’m all alone with no road markings. Now I’m just surrounded by inky blackness, full-on creepiness, amongst the freaking forest. Looking forward, I concentrate on what I’m doing. Leaning over, I pop the glove compartment and see my dad’s pistol he keeps in there. Smiling, and feeling a lot safer than I felt two seconds ago, I pull it out and place it on my lap. My dad always said to me, “Madi, don’t ever point a gun at a man unless you have the balls to pull the trigger.” Suffice it to say, I have big balls right about now. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I’ve been trained to take care of myself, and this is how I do it. Guns don’t kill people. People kill people. Guns are there to protect people who need to be protected from people who kill people.
Just as I pull up next to a line of cars, another text comes through. “Seriously?” I groan, picking up my phone and sliding it unlocked.
Unknown – Naw, baby. That ain’t gonna do jack shit when my hands are wrapped around your neck and your mouth is sucking on my dick.
I spin around, looking outside, but no one has followed me this whole time. What the fuck? I notice I’m still getting service since his texts are coming through just fine, but when I look at the service bar, I can see it dropping in and out. “Shit.” Taking a chance anyway, I dial Carter. There’s no use in trying Tatum; she’s probably already smashed, and as far as I know, Tillie doesn’t actually own a phone. I mean, we text her when we’re not with her, but she never has a phone when she’s with us.
Carter picks up, but I can hear a girl’s voices in the background. I roll my eyes. “Carter?”
“Hello? Madi? Can you hear me?”
No, I cannot hear you over all the mouthful of cock.
“Yeah, Carter—” the line goes dead, and I look down to my phone to see the service gone. “Fuck!” Picking up my bag from the passenger seat, I push my phone into the front pocket and pick up my gun.
This doesn’t seem like a great idea anymore. Back at school, when I said I’d do this, it was because I was in the light of the day. Now, I’m in the dark and can’t see shit. Shivering slightly, I think about throwing on a sweater, but my dad always said that the cold is what helps you stay alert. With that in my brain, I slip out of the car, ignoring the stabs of panic that erupt all over my flesh from being out in the cold, quiet open, and then slam the door shut, hiding the pistol behind my duffel bag as it slouches on my shoulder, but not far enough I can’t pull it out whenever I need it. Walking forward to the breaking of the forest—what Carter said to follow—I tighten my grip on the gun. It’s too silent. Why’s it so silent? It’s throwing me off. No birds or crickets chirping.
I kick myself. I should have bought my headphones. It would have made this trip a little less daunting, and then maybe I could have ran through the forest until I got to the site. Crunching of the dead leaves vibrates under the soles of my feet as the cold, thick air whips my hair across my face.
“I wanna play a game,” a voice whispers from behind me, and I jump two feet into the air, whipping around to face whoever it is that’s there, my gun drawn.
But no one is there.
“Who the fuck are you?”
A round of echoing laughter breaks through the night, swimming with the heavy gusts of wind. “Riddle me this....”
“No! Fuck you!”
They all laugh again, like a torturous cackle created from my very own nightmares. “Oh, you will,” another voice growls over the back of my neck, so close I could feel his warm breath fall over the fine hairs on my back.
I swing around, but once again, I’m met with empty air.
“Weak,” another voice taunts.
“Too slow!” another one laughs.
Sucking in my breath, I whip around, only to be met with the dark, inky forest, filled with the tang of pine, crisp dry leaves, and the moonlight reflecting between the broken branches of the trees. Moss blankets the thick sheet of dirt that is around my feet, and I bring my hand up, aiming my gun at nothing. “Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you following me?”
I feel his presence before he speaks, but when he opens his mouth, I know who it is instantly. “Riddle me this, kitty,” he whispers softly through his rough, lazy voice. “How many secrets do you hold within your bones? Or do I need to cut you open until your mysteries bleed out all over your home?” He steps forward, his hard chest brushing against my back muscles. I close my eyes, my grip around the gun tightening. Running his lips over the back of my earlobe, he groans, “You’re not the only one who can leave scratch marks.” Then he shoves me forward until I smash into a large tree trunk. The gasp of air I was holding in rushes out from my lungs as he steps between my legs, stretching me wide.
“Leave me alone, Bishop.”
He laughs and grips my wrists tightly. He snatches my gun from me and then pulls cable ties around my wrist. Fuck! Panic starts to rise again. Why the hell are they doing this to me? Nothing makes sense, and nothing has mad
e sense since I got here. “You and I both know that’s not what you really want.”
Loud footsteps sound out behind me, and when Bishop finally shoves me around to face him, his face catches my attention first. It’s completely masked in skeleton special effects makeup, and he’s wearing dark loose jeans, with a dark hoodie covering his head. His eyes peer into mine, but they’re covered by white wolf contacts. “You”—he steps forward—“know what I’m talking about, kitty. Why are you acting dumb?”
I swallow. “Dumb? What the hell are you talking about?” I look over his shoulder and see more figures, with skeleton faces and dark hoodies and jeans on, scattered around the place, leaning against trees. I search for Nate, and Bishop must know what I’m doing, because he laughs again, his hand flying up to my throat. He squeezes gently. “He can’t and won’t save you, kitty.”
His grip tightens, and my swallowing gets heavy. I look up into his eyes as he pushes me against the tree trunk again, the burning graze cutting into my back.
Stepping between my legs again, he drops his mouth to my ear, and growls, “Tell me what you know.”
“What?” What does he mean what I know?
“Wrong answer, kitty. You lose round one.”
“Round one?” I scoff, yanking at the cable ties that are digging into my wrists. “What the fuck do you want?” My anger is kicking up a notch. Sure, I may be timid and a quiet girl at times, but my fuse is very short. I can’t be bothered with killing people with kindness; that shit takes far too long. He pushes me back, his grip tightening until my air supply is stolen.
“What do you know about the Kings, kitty?”
My eyes close, the desperation to gain more air strengthening with each passing minute. Legs! I draw my leg back and kick him straight between his.
“Fuck!” he roars, bending over but not letting go of my throat. The rest of the boys watching behind us jolt forward, but they’re too slow. I kick him again, in the same spot, and his grip around my neck unlatches.
I quickly spin around and bolt. Running through all the scattered leaves, on broken sticks, and jumping over fallen logs, I run until my chest is burning and my vision is blurred. Something’s wrong. Silence. Complete silence. Slowing my running, I suck in heavy breaths as chills break over my flesh and what feels like a hundred tiny slithering snakes crawl up my spine. I shouldn’t have stopped. Stupid rookie move. Cranking my head over my shoulder a little, I see the shadow of someone coming up fast behind me. Just as I’m about to run, someone pushes me from behind, and I’m falling, face first. Because my hands are tied, I have nothing to break my fall.
“Fuck!” Bishop yells from behind me, and then a heavy body is pressing into my back. He digs his knee into the center of my spine, shoving my already pounding face that’s shoved into the dirt deeper. His hand wraps around the back of my neck as he squeezes again. I inch backward, my shoulders coming up in an attempt to stop his assault. “Don’t. Fucking. Run, kitty. You wanna know why?” he grates, dropping down to my ear, and my eyes sting with unshed tears.
“Why?” I croak through my parched throat.
He laughs, and I swear to God that laugh is enough to fuck with any demonic being. “Because I will always catch you, kitty, and trust me when I say,” he murmurs into my ear, his warm breath gliding over my neck, “I’ll always find you.” He gets up off me and flips me over onto my back.
“Tsk, tsk, little sis.” Nate walks toward me, but I focus my eyes on the sky. The branches frame my vision like a small circle, and I tilt my head, studying them closely. Nate bends down, but I can’t look at him. I always knew Bishop hated me somewhat, and when we slept together, it was more of a hate fuck, but Nate straight up betrayed me. Surprise, surprise. Most people do, I’ve come to learn. “Answer the question.”
“Fuck you.”
He laughs, his hand coming down to my throat. He looks up at Bishop and then grins over his shoulder. I quickly look back up to the stars once he’s brought his attention back down to me. Gripping me roughly, he yanks me to my feet and shoves my back up against a tree trunk. My head smashes against the hard bark and I groan, my eyes closing. That fucking hurt.
“B, come grab her legs so she can’t kick...” Nate studies my face, his wolf-colored eyes looking over my body. He grins. “Or scratch us.” I snap my mouth closed before opening it again.
“Nate, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I need to know the truth, kitty. And I need to know tonight.” I look over his shoulder to see the other five boys there, standing in the weak mist of the foggy night. The air is thick, and I know the fog is about to get a lot worse.
“I don’t know what the fuck you mean!” I scream.
Bishop steps forward, pushing Nate over slightly and grabbing onto my legs. Before I know it, they’re wrapped around his narrow waist and he’s pressing his groin into my center, the bark from the tree once again digging into my back. I should have worn the damn hoodie. He shoves me again, using his waist to move me. “Answer the fucking questions, kitty.”
I don’t ignore the way his bulge has expanded against me either, and as much as I hate him and hate what’s happening, my body has a mind of its own. “I am answering the questions! You’re just not listening!” I yell, pissed off at all of them. Do I think they will hurt me? Yes. But my anger trumps my fear, and that’s a dangerous trait to have against Bishop and Nate, because they love the fear. I can feel it, see it in their eyes. When they know I’m afraid, they get a kick out of it.
Nate looks over his shoulder and gives the other boys a look before staring back at me. He steps aside, giving Bishop even more reign over my body. Slowly, Bishop’s hips sink into me again and my throat contracts. I narrow my eyes on him.
He smirks, before groaning, “What?” innocently.
“You know what, and for the record, that is not happening again.”
Nate laughs behind him. “We all know that’s bullshit.”
Bishop smirks at me again. “Unconvinced.”
“I know nothing. Now let me go before my friends come find me.”
“I don’t buy that you don’t know anything about us, kitty. In fact, I’d be willing to bet on it.” He pushes into me again and my stupid core contracts.
Are you kidding me? He runs his nose down my jaw, but I fight it. I look directly at Nate. “This what you wanted?” I question him, my eyebrow quirked. “To see how hard Bishop can fuck me? Maybe learn a thing or two for the next time you’re mouth-fucking me on the couch?”
Bishop stills. Every muscle in his body turns rigid against mine before he loosens. I don’t know if he knows I caught that, or if he even cares that I know.
Nate comes to the side of me, running his finger down the side of my cheek. I shove away from him. “Naw, sis, don’t act like you didn’t mouth-fuck me back. In fact, if I remember correctly, it was your hot little tongue that slipped into my mouth first.”
Bishop comes up from my neck, his hand coming to my cheeks, where he squeezes roughly. “Answer the fucking questions, kitty, before I fuck you right here and now. And trust me, what you experienced the first time was gentle up against how deep I’d fuck you right now.”
“Bro? What if she’s telling the fucking truth?” someone behind Nate asks, stepping toward us. When he gets closer, I see it’s Cash. “I mean, it’s possible that she—”
“Shut the fuck up, and no it’s not. And no we can’t take chances. And no I won’t fucking take her word for it,” Bishop snaps, looking over his shoulder. “Get back to where the fuck you came from and don’t interrupt again.”
Cash’s jaw tenses. I think I like him a little more than I did before.
“Game time,” Bishop says to me. “Every time I think you’re lying—” He pulls out a Swiss Army blade from his back pocket and flicks it open. “—you lose a piece of clothing.” He tilts his head. “And when you have no clothing left?” He glides the blade down my sternum to my belly button. “Then we’ll have to start getting
creative.”
“This is bullshit!” I spit. “I fucking told you that I don’t know anything!” Goose bumps break out over my flesh, and he sees it. Grinning, he grips the knife in his hand and then grabs onto my thigh again. “I’d be real honest if I were you, kitty, ’cause boundaries?” he taunts. “Those are things I don’t have.”
“Fine!” I splutter. “I’ll answer with complete honesty, but then, you will let me go!”
Bishop searches my eyes, his bright, marble wolf ones looking into mine. Why the fuck does the whole skeleton thing do it for me? And why the fuck am I thinking about what does it for me and what doesn’t right now?
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Then he leans forward and nips my lower lip, like he fucking owns it. I growl, the vibration pressing against his chest. “Aw, that’s real cute. The kitty purrs.”
“Fuck you.”
“Can we get to the questions?” Nate says, looking between Bishop and me in disbelief. “Geez, your guys’ hatred used to be hot foreplay, but now I’m seriously thinking I’ll be needing to hide the knives.”
I laugh, tilting my head back, and then look back to Nate. “Oh, you’ll be needing to hide them from me, brother, and I’d be sleeping with one eye open from now on.”
“Hot. Gonna come suck my dick in my sleep?”
“More like bite it off.” I pause and pretend to mull over my thoughts. “Oh, but that would require me actually being able to locate it. Houston, we have a p—”