Page 86 of Conjure

Dominic hangs his head, his dark hair flopping over his eyes. “You’re a dead man.”

“Speak up, boy. I can’t hear ya.”

He lifts his head and glares at Wilfred. “I’m going to kill you!”

Silence slides in through the cracks in the floor, slithering over my bare legs like a whispered threat.

Wilfred shoves the gun against Dominic’s forehead, a manic glint in his eyes. I cry out, crawling forward, my Chucks smearing a path through the blood on the floor.

“Stay back,” Dominic warns, wriggling against his restraints.

“No…” I kneel in front of Wilfred, clasping his overalls. Desperation is all I have left. My dignity has died a slow death, and I don’t care what it takes to save Dominic. It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes to end this nightmare. “Please don’t hurt him. What do you want? Tell me. I’ll do anything.” I trail my hand higher and cup his dick through his overalls. “I’ll suck you. Please just let him go.”

He regards me, his dick hardening in my grip.

Beside me, Dominic’s eyes glare holes into my face, but I don’t spare him a glance, not now when I have Wilfred’s attention. Something tells me that if I lose it, he’ll kill Dominic this time, and I won’t get a second chance.

A second chance at what? Distracting him for long enough for Dominic to escape the ropes that bind him? Distract him long enough to find a way to kill the man in front of me myself? Can I do that? Maybe if I snatch the gun from him when he’s distracted? Do I even know how to use one?

I squeeze his dick. “Let me taste your cock.”

With the gun still pressed to Dominic’s temple, Wilfred brushes my hair away from my forehead with his dirty hand.

Dominic opens his mouth to talk, but I shoot him a pleading glance before looking back up at the monster, who unclips his overalls, his voice slithering over my skin like a disease. “You want my cock inside that pretty mouth of yours, darlin’?”

His overalls fall to his knees, and I’m hit with the stench of his unwashed dick. He palms it and strokes the length while Dominic shifts in my periphery.

I force myself to keep my eyes locked on Wilfred. Now is not the time for distractions. I can’t afford to lose his attention or the darkening lust in his dull eyes.

I’m just about to lean in when he grips my hair and yanks me back. “What do you call me, darlin’?”

My scalp burns with pain, and I swallow down a whimper. “Daddy?—”

I pause as something catches my attention on the dresser to his left.

A porcelain doll.

He smacks my cheek, and Dominic releases a bunch of expletives, calling him every name under the sun, no doubt trying to force his attention back on him.

A shiver splashes down my spine when, in slow motion, I become aware of a whisper of a breath at my neck.

“The window is open.” I turn my head. Wilfred has my hair clasped in his hand again.

“Focus,” he orders, smacking his dick against my cheek, but I’m too distracted by the billowing curtain and the summer breeze that moves through the trees outside.

“When you hear its whispers travel through the rustling leaves, you run as fast as you can.”

“You left the window open,” I say again, more forcefully, and time slows.

Eternity stretches out in front of me.

I look back at the porcelain doll, suppressing a shiver when a bead of blood slips from the crack in its cheek.

The breath at my neck brushes past me, kissing my damp skin. I fix my attention on Wilfred. “It feeds on negative emotions and desire,” I emphasize the last word, my heart beating faster.

Wilfred’s eyes turn black and shivers race through me when he cups my chin and lifts it. “His obsession with you is delicious.”

He releases me just as fast. I stumble to Dominic, who’s desperately struggling to untie his rope while Wilfred lifts the shotgun to his mouth.