Page 10 of Monstrous Serpent

Not gentle. Not sweet. The kind of hard that makes the tree shake.

“Fuck me.” Her voice rips through the woods. Raw. Loud. A voice I've never heard come out of her mouth. Not in my bed. Not in my car. Not ever. “Harder. Oh, my god. Harder.”

He slaps her across the face.

She moans again.

My throat closes, hands shaking.

I step without thinking, and a branch snaps under my foot. “Shit.”

The guy in the white mask whips his head in my direction. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t turn away. Instead, he fucks my girlfriend harder, head tilting the slightest bit as if daring me to do something.

This motherfucker.

I step back to cut around the thicket between us because I'm going to rip that mask off his face and break every bone in his—

My back collides with something solid. “The fuck?”

I spin and—

Shit.

Two large men in masks stand there, towering over me. The hoods of their black sweatshirts are pulled up. One steps closer, boxing me in.

My gaze snaps between them, fists clenched and eyes narrowed.

But . . . their masks . . . I turn back to the guy fucking Cindy, then face the two in front of me again.

They’re the same. Their fucking masks are the same.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My breathing picks up, but I hold my chin high. Same way I do whenever that prick Trembley knocks me on my ass. Because I don’t back down.

Ever.

Instead, I make myself bigger.

But my chest won't open. The air won't come in all the way. These two aren't Trembley. We’re also not on the ice where teammates have my back.

Three-on-one isn't brave. It's a fucking death wish. Especially when nobody knows where I am.

So, I cut left and run.

My legs do what they've always done—the first step is explosive, low, and fast. Branches rip at my hoodie and slice across my arms and face. My sneakers tear through the dirt. I'm running the way I skate when I've screwed up and the play is going the other direction and I'm the only one who can get back in time.

Except there are no boards. No bench. No whistle.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I ignore it.

Following Cindy was a mistake. A disastrous one. Maybe even a deadly one.

Fuck.

I should've just broken up with her.