Page 38 of Deadfall

When he pushed against my ass, I struggled and tried to kick back at him.

“No, no, none of that.”

He grabbed my thighs and drove his hips forward. He was definitely smaller than the other two, he wasn’t wrong about that, but I dissolved into sobs when he pushed his head inside. He spit again. I felt it drop onto my skin. It helped a little bit, and he coaxed and muttered encouragement as he forced his way through the resistance. It was excruciating.

“There we go, sweet one—you’re doing so good, a little more—”

He was fully seated in seconds, his breath ragged as he draped over my back. He smoothed a hand over my hair.

“Just like that—see? Not so bad.”

I’d never wanted to kill anyone so badly in my life. Not even Vetticus and Albatron. Maybe Octavius, but Jas and these men were a very, very close second. The rage inside me was hot, molten—alive with a sentience all its own. It felt like a living thing that could burst from me at any moment if I only had the strength. Jas moved slowly in and out until the rhythm dissolved his breathing into short, panting gasps. The discomfort grew as his thrusts sped up, but he didn’t last long, and for that I was grateful.

After he came, he pulled me down into his lap and wrapped me in his arms. I didn’t have the strength to resist. He petted my head and whispered things I had no interest in hearing. My wrists lay against his thigh and when he shifted to get comfortable, my hands slid to his belt and brushed against something. My senses sharpened—it was the hilt of a hunting knife. Under the guise of nestling into him more, I moved my fingers over the leather sheath.

“Yeah, baby, just relax,” Jas said.

I could hear the satisfaction in his tone at my behavior. He liked that I was complying and using him as comfort. I wanted to take out my fury on him, but instead I made a soft whimper to cover up the sound of the leather loop unsnapping.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Jas continued to murmur.

I was already a mess, so my short, breathless pants against the gag weren’t seen as suspicious. Jas continued to rock me in his arms and I slowly eased the blade out. I knew I was only going to have one chance at this. One chance to not only kill him, but make it quiet enough not to wake the other two.

Jas’ hand traced along my jaw and lifted my chin. I froze, the terror in my eyes not fake at the thought of him realizing what I was doing. He pulled the gag out of my mouth.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said softly.

I shook my head and then stopped—because this would work to my advantage. His lips descended on mine and I fought through the nausea. Disgust rushed through me and when his tongue shoved into my mouth, I nearly gagged. I slipped the knife the rest of the way out and the adrenaline nearly made me pass out with the rush of it.

The next pass of his tongue, I bit him. Blood flooded my mouth and I swallowed his scream as I clamped down and didn’t let go. He sought to push me off, but I brought the knife up and shoved the blade into his neck. I released him and gasped at the sight of his half-severed tongue as it lolled out of his mouth. I yanked the blade out to a spray of blood and he made a quiet choking sound before the surprise faded from his eyes and he slumped over, gaping like a dying fish out of water.

“Jas?” Harry’s voice called out from the tent.

I quickly sawed the rope off my wrists. Panic flared when I saw the tent flap rustle, but I wheezed in a deep breath and fought it back.

“Jas, you better not be fucking with her—” Harry’s head poked out. “Hey! Shit—Pete, wake up!”

I scrambled back into the shadows with the knife clutched tightly in my fist. My heart thrashed in my chest as I gained my feet and took off into the trees. I ran blindly, the adrenaline and pain battling it out as I stumbled and crashed through the dark woods. Harry and Pete shouted in anger somewhere over my shoulder—they’d discovered Jas. I heard their pursuit and knew if they caught me this time, I was dead.

21

EMERSYN

Age 18

I didn’t know how I made it home. I was naked, bleeding and covered in dirt, mud, and things I didn’t want to think about. By the time I recognized the forest near the cabin, it took everything in me just to take the next step. I heard Fang bark—Sacha was home?

Sacha was home.

Fang’s barking grew louder, and when the pale light of dawn filtered through the trees to reveal the dim outline of the cabin, the relief caused all my strength to leave, and I fell to my knees. Sacha’s form blurred as I burst into tears. He knelt in front of me—his hands grabbed my shoulders. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him, even though it looked like he was shouting. He wrapped something around my shoulders—I hadn’t even realized I was freezing cold until that moment. Everything sounded far away. Sacha yanked my chin towards him and my brain slowly understood that he was asking me who did this, and where.

“Men. North shore,” I gasped.

It was several minutes before I realized he was gone. I lurched to my feet and forced myself the last few yards to the front door. The visceral need to wash them from my skin gave me the strength to make it to my bathroom. I wanted their touch gone. I showered until the water ran cold, and scrubbed until my skin was red and inflamed and the cuts bled again, but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted to turn myself inside out and scrub my bones clean. The thought that I wasn’t able to do that, was enough to reduce me to tears as I sank to the shower floor in despair.

The water grew cold enough that I was compelled to turn it off. Somehow I made it to my bedroom where I put on my loosest clothes and grabbed a firearm I kept in my nightstand. I went out into the living room and huddled in the chair by the fire where I watched the door. I vaguely remembered Sacha had left, but I also knew those men were somewhere out there. If they came while Sacha was gone, I’d put a bullet in each of them before they even crossed the threshold.

Except, the longer I sat there. The shakier my hand became and the more my mind drifted. It wanted to shut down. It wanted me to sleep until there wasn’t a difference between living, and a sleep as deep as death. The gun slipped from my hand and I went somewhere else, empty as a void and numb to everything.