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My heart rate is through the roof, no doubt a side effect of this dick drug they have me on. I’m still trying to catch my breath when a different hooded guy walks in, sticks a needle in my leg and then turns to exit the room.
Foggy euphoria sweeps over me and for once on this fucked up journey, I welcome the escape.
***
I wake, still in a blur and much worse than before. My head is throbbing, distracting me from clearly seeing what’s in front of me. “Iris?” I can make out the hair. Is it her smile? Her dick sucking lips. God, what I wouldn’t do to have them wrapped around my cock, sucking me so hard she steals my soul and then smirks about it.
“Fuck, I missed you. Did they hurt you?” She doesn’t respond. Am I dreaming this shit up? Is she real? “Where have you been?” She shrugs her shoulders and moves toward me. “Baby. I can’t promise you I have it in me to be gentle. I’m about to fuck you into next week.” I thrust forward when she grips my ass cheeks and flinch when it doesn’t feel right. “Iris?” I ask again. Still no response.
“No… talk to me.” She halts her progression toward me at my sudden change of tone. “What’s wrong, baby? Did they hurt you?” The questions are burning me up. I need to know what they’ve done so I can choose their tortured deaths accordingly. My vision is still hazy and it’s pissing me off. I want to see her clearly. The memories aren’t good enough, I’ve had to settle for those for years.
I need to inspect every single inch of her flawless body and if it’s anything less than perfect, I’ll add that to their bill. And believe me they will fucking pay up.
Finally, she shakes her head and my entire body relaxes. She’s safe. She’s with me. She’s alive. “Kiss me.” I lean forward to meet her and nausea hits me instantly.
This is not Iris.What the hell kind of mind fuck are they putting me through? Who is this Iris lookalike and how could I not tell? A whole new sense of confusion and instability hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.
What would sending a girl in here like this do as a benefit to them? What is their grand plan that has me in this shithole waiting for their next move… And why do they insist on sending all of the blood in my body straight to my cock? Is this their idea to trick me into fucking someone else? I will die before I willingly let another woman near my cock.
Just as I make the declaration in my head, she slides her grip over my cock to give it a squeeze. “Nice.”Fucking nice?This girl has no idea how wound up I am and how hard I would’ve fucked her… a month ago. Hell, a year ago. But now that I have Iris back in my life, they will have to work much harder if they think a little number like this can sway me.
“Get the fuck off of me.” My voice comes out a growl, sending her back a few feet as she contemplates how far she wants to push me. She pulls out a syringe and sends me back to sleep with a single stab.
CHAPTER FOUR
Iris
The text haunts me as I wait. Of course I attempt to yank on the damn door and poke around every possible indention in the room to see if it leads to anything. I find nothing in my search, only more frustration. Heaving a breath, I’m staring at the wall and chewing my thumbnail when the small television in the corner flips on. The short shrill beep coming from the speakers makes me jump, my heart thundering in my chest.
“Hello?” I say to the television, feeling like a ditz for speaking to the black box. I’m not sure if they can hear me, but with everything they’ve been responsible for so far, I wouldn’t put it past them.
“Good evening, Miss Kensington,” a distorted voice responds. It’s the type of sound you hear with one of those little boxes. It reminds me of the Scream movie and a chill instantly crawls over my flesh. “Shall we begin?” they suggest, as a masked man in a sapphire-colored robe appears on the screen. The visual only feeds into my anxiety, the suffocating feeling squeezing my lungs.
“Well, I think that depends… who are you?” My voice is raspy, sounding hoarse. I clear my throat, clenching my hands in my lap to prevent myself from ripping off another nail and wait for a reply with bated breath.
“It’s information you must figure out for yourself, but ultimately not important.” A smile creeps through in his tone, enjoying the fact he’s able to taunt me, holding something over my head.
“And what exactly am I supposed to be figuring out?” It’s all I can drum up at the moment, irritation and impatience twisting me up inside. I don’t enjoy being played with like it’s some sort of game. This isn’t a fuckingSAWmovie, and whoever’s responsible should know not to kidnap me. Beau and King will rain torture on anyone who dares to threaten me, so I can only imagine what they’ll do when we get through this. I have to believe at least one of them is alive and will be handing out punishments.
I also have my grandfather. He would do anything to protect me and I have no doubt he’d take his vengeance out on the entire society if necessary for the fucked-up turmoil they’ve put me through. I just need to get to him.
“The truth,” he pauses. “If you’re up for the challenge?” He chuckles and my stomach clenches. The voice box makes a horrible sound, the sharp squeal like nails on a chalkboard. I press my fists to my thighs to try and stop myself from showing any outward fear. I’d bet his real voice is menacing, but he’s too much of a coward to face me in person.
I’m not above crying, screaming, or begging if I have to… but most of all, I’ll fight for as long as I can if they make me. They won’t break me. I can’t let them.
“What do you want?” I ask, holding my head high, knowing I need to be choosy enough to ask the right questions. I’m determined to figure out this game, as I’m feeling stuck in my own live horror movie and it’s wigging me the hell out. The difference between now and watching a movie is, I can pause a movie, go grab a snack, and come back to it. I don’t have that luxury in real life; I’m trapped here alone, with the madman who happens to have a secret society at his back. No pressure at all…
“To help you.”
“I find that hard to believe, but I’ll play your game. What’s the truth?”
The flip phone chimes, alerting me an image has been sent. I’m only distracted for a few brief seconds, but it’s long enough for the television to turn back to black, the mask disappearing. I groan with frustration. “Fucking shit!” I managed to get nothing out of my first encounter with whoever is holding me hostage, definitely not a great start to my plans. I imagined myself a better negotiator than that pathetic attempt I just showed.
There’s another chime and then a third.More images.I click the first one and watch as it slowly loads, wishing it was a smart phone I could use to call for help. It does me no good when there’s no service. They must be sending the messages through Wi-Fi, though it’s hard to believe they have any internet wherever it is they have me trapped.
The image eventually loads and it’s a picture of my plane ticket when my father sent me to Paris. The second image is of my boarding school. The third, my father shaking hands with a man I’ve never seen before.
I have no idea what any of it means, but they’re obviously trying to point something important out to me. Or it could just be a fucking distraction while they finish us all off. I can’t think that way, I have to remain hopeful. I’ll see one of my boys when I break out of here, there’s no other option. I refuse to believe both of them are dead and allow myself to fall to absolute pieces, because it’s exactly what will happen. I love those fucked up boys far too much to think of a future without them included.
