I have totally been going about this all wrong. And whatever tonight is about, it gives me an opportunity to change my playbook.
“Good girl, princess,” he says, releasing the tight grip on my hair and caressing my face with his free hand. He pulls me to my feet, reeling me in flush with his body. He nudges my hip with his erection, and I suck in a gasp as heat floods my core. Movement in the background is only noise as I peer into Saint’s eyes. “Do you know where we are, princess?” he asks, sliding his arms around my back.
“Prestwick Forest.”
“Smart deduction, and you’re correct.” He pins me with a shit-eating grin. “And do you know what happens out here?”
“You kill people and bury them in the woods.” They all chuckle at that, and I wonder what I said that’s so funny.
“Do you know what else we do out here?” he inquires, poking further. I shake my head. He smiles wider, rubbing his thumb along my mouth, eliciting a wake of shivers in his trail. “Good.” He glances over my head. “Ready?” he shouts. After a few beats, he looks down at me, grinding his cock against my pelvis and smushing his chest against my hard nipples. His eyes feast on my breasts, and I shiver all over. He smirks, letting me go, and I lament the loss of his body heat. “I really hope I’m not wrong about you, princess,” he whispers in my ear before tugging me through the trees by the elbow.
The others are standing around an opening in the ground, looking down and sharing wicked grins.
“It’s set,” Galen says, his voice cold and unfeeling.
“Down you go, princess.” Saint brings me to the edge of the pit, where a rope ladder has been slotted into the ground.
I lean over, peering into the pitch-black pit, shivering uncontrollably. “I’m not going down there.”
Saint shakes his head, gripping my elbow tighter. “Already disappointing me.”
“Let me clarify,” Galen says, approaching me with lethal menace. “Climb down, or I’ll gladly throw your ass in there.” His eyes drop to my chest, and I hate that my nipples are rigid and poking through the front of my thin sleep shirt. He lifts his head, smirking, and his know-it-all demeanor grates on my last nerve.
“They’re hard because I’m cold, asshole, not because I’m aroused.”
“You can lie to yourself, angel, but we all know the truth.” He leans in close to my face. “You’re every bit as fucked up as we are. Maybe more so.”
He’s quite possibly right, but I’m not confirming that out loud.
“What’s it to be, princess?” Saint says. “You going willingly, or not?”
My gaze meets Theo’s, and his eyes urge me to climb down, his expression suggesting he’s got my back. For a split second, we’re co-conspirators again until I remember where I am, who I’m with, and how I got here.
“I need my hands,” I say, averting my eyes from Theo and staring back at his annoyingly hot leader.
Saint’s amused smile irks me. “So use them.” The meaning is clear, and I think he knows, as well as I do, that I could’ve freed myself the minute Galen tied me up.
It takes me longer than usual, because that asshole tied them super tight, but I manage to get free a couple minutes later, and the rope falls to the ground at my feet. Galen and Saint share a look as I step up to the ladder and start climbing down.
The lower I go, the more my trepidation builds, but I refuse to let fear get the best of me, so I focus on my movements and my breathing, ignoring the way my heart is racing, my palms are suddenly sweaty, and blood is rushing to my ears.
I plant my feet on the muddy ground, shuddering as I look around. It’s not actually that deep, and I can still see the guys standing around the edge, looking down. But it’s deep enough that as soon as they whip the rope ladder away, and I realize I have no way out of here, panic starts to crawl up my throat.
“Let’s see what you’re made of now, princess,” Saint says, shining a flashlight on my face. The light illuminates my surroundings, and my panic accelerates to coronary-inducing levels as the myriad of bones littering the muddy ground comes into clear view. Some still bear remnants of decaying flesh, confirming these are more recent kills.
I tremble all over, and this time, it’s not from the cold.
Chuckles ring out from above, followed by a succession of wails as they howl like wild animals. They throw slabs of bloody meat into the pit, and I shriek as Galen throws his offering right at my face, darting to the side just in time. I scramble back as my foot hits the side of a skull, screaming before I can stop myself. They laugh again, and I bristle with rage, but I clamp my lips shut, because I won’t plead or beg. They would love that, and I won’t give them the satisfaction.
It turns dark again when Saint switches his flashlight off, but it brings zero comfort. Another shudder works its way through me, and I cross my arms over my chest as my teeth chatter.
“Wild wolves are known to roam these woods at night,” Saint says, his voice tinged with glee. “I wouldn’t stay down there too long, princess. Unless you want to become wolf nom, nom.”
CHAPTER 19
I STAND IN the center of the muddy pit, in the pitch-dark, in my now filthy pajamas, shivering and shaking from the cold and uncontrollable rage. I listen to the guys laughing and joking as they saunter off, leaving me to my fate, and I want to tear those assholes limb from limb and feed them to the wolves when they come hunting. But my furious thoughts aren’t going to help me escape, and I don’t plan on spending long down here.
First, I hurl the lumps of bloody raw meat out of the pit, one at a time, offering silent thanks that Dad got me interested in kickboxing at sixteen. Between classes and regular bouts with the punching bag in our basement gym, I have decent strength in my arms. Enough that I can toss the stinking piles of wolf bait out of the pit and away from me. I don’t think I’ve thrown them far though, and the scent will most likely carry on the breeze, so I need to get my ass out of here stat.
Ignoring the icky feel of slimy bones under my feet, I scale the perimeter of the small pit, using my hands to explore the muddy walls for anything to grip on to, but I can’t find any markings I can use to climb out of here. The mud is quite soft to the touch, almost clay-like in substance, as if they built this pit on purpose solely to drive me demented.
I pace the small clear space in the middle of the pit, racking my brains for a solution.
When it comes to me, I almost throw up.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, and bile swims up my throat, but I can’t identify any other plan, and even though I don’t know if this will work, I’ve got to try.
I attack the wall I climbed down using my long nails to dig, pulling clumps of mud away. When I’ve gouged a deep enough hole, I swallow my distaste as I crouch down, tentatively reaching out and grabbing the first bone I feel. I don’t think about the fact this belonged to a living, breathing being at one point in time, focusing on the fact I need to get out of here before my bones join this gruesome collection.
I wedge the bone into the hole I’ve dug, covering it with the clay-like mud, but leaving the end part jutting out just enough to climb on. I pack the mud around the edges, compacting it as tightly as I can, and then I repeat the process, lining bones up in a crisscross pattern, choosing bigger, wider bones for my feet and smaller ones for my hands to grip onto. I go as high as I can reach, hoping that I can close that final gap using my hands and pull myself the rest of the way up.