A scream erupts from the left, behind the wall, and she jumps, bringing her hands to her pounding chest.
“Here, let me get in front of you.” Reaching out, I place my hands on her shoulders and push her behind me. She grips my upper arms and doesn’t let go. Another sound to my right has my head whipping in that direction. It’s a door, and a light shines from the room on the other side of it. A man dressed in all black stands there. You can’t see his face through the black mesh mask over it.
Becky shrieks, pressing her body into mine. “Please don’t touch me,” she begs.
I nod to the guy and push open the door, leading us into a new room. A woman lies on what looks like a hospital gurney. She wears a dingy gown that has been torn. Her wrists and ankles are strapped to the bed with brown leather straps and blood drips from the restraints. She tries to sit up, but the straps across her chest and stomach prevent any movement. A man stands next to her, his back toward us as he faces a white table.
“Okay, Beatrice. Do you know why I have to do this to you?” he asks.
She stares up at the ceiling, no longer struggling. The only movement is her chest rising and falling slowly. “Because I survived,” she whispers, and Becky stiffens against me.
“Very good,” he praises her. “But why did you do it?” he asks.
She swallows, and whispers, “Because the voices told me to.”
I look at the dirty floor and see a bloody razor blade by the bed. The blood running from her bound wrists suddenly makes sense. She’s suicidal. She told him that voices told her to kill herself, and now she’s being punished because she survived.
He walks to the head of the gurney and stands, wearing the same black costume as the man out in the hall sans mask. She arches her back, looking up at him longingly as though they’re lovers. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make them go away.” He snaps a brown leather belt between his fists, and she opens up her mouth for him. Her hips rise, and she moans as if it’s turning her on. He places it between her teeth and runs his knuckles gently down the side of her cheek. She lets out a muffled groan, and then he reaches over and grabs two paddles, pressing them to her temples. The lights flicker on and off as her restrained body thrashes in the bed.
Becky buries her head into my chest. “Jesus, this place isn’t scary. It’s fucked up.”
I smile. Yeah, it is. I like it.
I grab her hand, and we exit the door to the right and come to a new room with two more doors. Austin and Cole come through the one to the left. Demi and her boyfriend to the right. Austin is smiling like a kid in a candy store. Demi looks bored.
A door opening to the right has Becky jumping back, causing Demi to laugh at her expense. We follow each other into the next room. The floor and all four walls have tiles that once were white, but now are brown and have been stained with blood on them.
A small woman stands with her nose to the far wall, her back to us. She’s completely naked. Scratches run up and down her back and thighs. Blood trails down them and pools at her feet. Her blond hair is tangled and dirty. A man stands behind her holding a hose. He turns it on and sprays her, and she screams as the water hits her skin and splashes us. Smoke instantly fills the room so you think it’s steam from the hot water. Becky grips my shirt as it quickly engulfs the space, making it hard to see. I cover my mouth and push through a door just as Becky lets go of me. The lights shut off, leaving us in complete darkness, and a small body runs into my back. “Shit.” I hear her hiss.
“Here.” I reach back and take her hand. Putting my free hand on the wall to the right of me, I slide it across the area. It curves to the right, and I follow it, pulling Becky behind me. She doesn’t say anything or try to pull away.
My hand comes to a new wall, and it’s right in front of me. “What the fuck …?” It’s a dead end. I sigh. Silence meets me. No more music plays from above, and I don’t hear any screams off in the distance. “Cole?” He doesn’t answer. “Austin?” Still nothing. “Guess it’s just us.” I turn around to head back to where we came from and run right into her. We both trip over our tangled feet and her back hits a wall. “Becky,” I breathe. My body is up against hers, pinning her in place. Her heavy breathing fills the silent hallway. I have to remind myself why I hate her so much and how this is just a game I intend to win.
My hands grip her wrists, pinning them down to her mattress. She arches her neck, and I kiss my way up the soft skin to her ear. “I love you,” she whispers.
I pause and pull away to look down at her. Blue eyes fill with tears, and she sniffs. “I love you, Deke—”
“I love you too, Becky,” I interrupt, then kiss her.
I make love to her, showing her just how much she means to me. Her face is flushed, her hair a wild mess, and her lips swollen. She looks absolutely fucking perfect. “Tell me again,” I order, pushing my hips forward. She no longer belongs to that fuckface David. He went off to college and dumped her like the ass I knew him to be. Cole is busy playing with his new toy, Austin. Becky is all mine, and she fills the hole left in my heart from my three dead friends. She makes it go away. I’m never gonna let her go now that she’s all mine.
“I love you.” She gasps, licking her lips. “I love you …”
I slam my lips to hers again.
This fucking bitch never loved me. We slept with each other and with other people for a long time to hide how we really felt for one another, so I’m not innocent in this situation. But I believed it would be me and her in the long run, and then she played me. If I were an honest loser, I would bow and tell her good fucking job. But I’m a sore loser. Especially at my own game.
Her hands come up to my chest, and I smile in the darkness. That’s right, baby, come to me. Let yourself think I’ll save you from the darkness when I’m really gonna drown you in it. Mine go to her hips, and I slide my fingers in the belt loops of her jeans.
“Deke, I’m …” She whispers so softly that I barely hear her, but the sound travels straight to my dick, and it goes hard on its own. Fuck, I want to pin her down and fuck my hate out on her. She gasps when I rub my hips into hers.
“I know, baby.” She can’t deny it anymore. She wants me, just not like I want her.
My hands leave her jeans and trail up her sides and then my knuckles skim over her breasts through her shirt. Her heavy breathing fills the confined blackness we have found ourselves in alone. I run my hand over the skin of her neck, and I can feel her pulse racing. And like before, she doesn’t stop me and makes no move to push me away, so I push a little further. My hand fists her hair, and I gently pull her head back. She’s panting when I skim my lips against hers. My other hand cups her face, and I can feel the tremble in her body pushed up against mine.
I smile to myself.
“I’m gonna kiss you now.” I give her one warning. One chance to push me away or kick me in the balls. If she doesn’t, who knows how far this will go right here and now. I’ve got three months of pent-up aggression for this woman, and I’ll make her like every fucking moment of it.
Her hands fist my shirt, and I chuckle before pressing my lips to hers. Her body goes stiff against mine. I move my hand on her face down to wrap around her waist and grip her ass over her jeans, rubbing my hips into hers again. She begins to soften. Her hands come up to wrap around my neck, and my kiss grows frantic when her tongue sweeps over mine. She tastes different. She used to remind me of fresh air—the woman I loved. A woman I planned to spend the rest of my life with. Silly, right? Now she tastes like betrayal and bitterness—the lying little slut I know her to be. And for some reason, that turns me on even more. No more pretending. No more lies. I can fucking hate her while making her love me.