Page 15 of Hunt Me (The Skulls #1)
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Fauna
M y body is on fire, every part of me on alert and itching for something more. I ’ ve felt this way ever since I saw him on his knees beneath me wearing that fucking skull mask and its only grown worse since then.
Now? Feeling the lingering strength of his hand around my throat, the hint of his lips on my own…
Now I ’ m ready to explode.
I ’ m fucked up, there ’ s no question about it. It ’ s the only explanation.
How can a situation be so wrong but feel so incredibly right. So good that I ’ m ready for it to consume me.
We all live for the moment, not knowing when it will be our last so fuck it why not keep on going.
I may be messed up but at least I ’ m enjoying myself.
‘ That was hot and all, but I still preferred it when you were on your knees. ’ I say looking directly at Ruaridh, then to add fuel to the fire I lean in whispering, ‘ you know looking like my good little bitch. ’
The look he gives me is feral, sending my skin tingling in anticipation.
Come on, play with me , something inside my mind whispers sounding a lot like a plea.
Ruaridh leans forward, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath fanning across my neck as he speaks. ‘ And you looked so fucking beautiful on yours, baby. But I ’ m afraid to point out the obvious little deer, but we need a bath. ’
In an instant, my body cools, all that insatiable heat extinguished.
It feels like he just dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.
Ruaridh ’ s words burn no matter how hard I ’ m trying not to let them hit me. They do and it hurts.
I look away as I feel my eyes begin to sting.
Fuck men. Dick heads the lot of them.
They ’ re useless anyway. Bet he couldn ’ t find my clit if I drew a big fat X marks the spot on it.
Bastard.
His annoying voice interrupts my spiralling hatred just as I start to mentally plot his death.
‘ How about we both get cleaned up, and then we can see who gets on theirs first. ’
I look back at him to see that cocky ass grin wide on his face, and his bottom lip pulled between a set of straight white teeth. He looks so happy with himself, like he can ’ t contain his excitement.
Fuck him.
He winks.
‘ I ’ ll never get on my knees. ’ I spit then push away from him.
His chuckling laughter follows me. ‘ We ’ ll see about that. ’
My anger is boiling up inside of me because how fucking dare he tell me I smell. Did no one tell him the cardinal rule of do not insult a woman you spent the night cuddled up to?
The bastard had to go all out and tell me I stink.
‘ You don ’ t exactly smell like roses yourself, you know, ’ I spin on my heels to face him. ‘ In fact, you smell so bad that ’ s what made me hurl my guts up earlier. Your shitty ass morning breath and your shit covered clothes is not a vibe. It's giving me the ick. ’
I cross my arms, satisfied with my digs. This big dick head doesn ’ t get to throw insults and not expect me to hurl my own back.
Ruaridh blinks at me. He just fucking blinks.
Then, as if slipping on a mask, his expression morphs back into playfulness as he holds a hand to his chest, and as if deciding to put on an extra flare of dramatics, he gasps.
‘ You wound me deeply, ’ he wipes away a fake tear.
‘ But what can I say? I like this new side of you. My faun has got some claws. ’
I roll my eyes as he practically purrs the last few words.
This guy has some nerve.
‘ But now that you ’ ve addressed the elephant in the room of you and your not so tactical whitey I guess it ’ s only fair that I inform you of the leftover chunks that so gracefully made it into your hair. ’
I gasp my hand darting to smooth down the birds nest that has taken over my head. There ’ s not really such a thing as a good hair day in the apocalypse, but if there ’ s an example of a bad one, I imagine my hair right now would be it.
Just as Ruaridh had pointed out, my fingers find something both mushy and hard. Refusing to let this asshole see me affected I push down the gag my throat is forcing up and flick the pinkish substance away.
The sudden image of lying in the sewers and the boils covering the sewer cannibals come to the forefront of my mind, and it feels like my skin is about to crawl off of my body.
No no fucking no.
There is no chance I am accepting what that could be in my hair. No fucking way.
Unable to hold it back, I double over, retching.
Ruaridh whistles, moving to hold my hair back as he did with my earlier bout of sickness, and I continue to dry heave, aiming for his shoes but unfortunately nothing of substance comes up.
‘ If I ’ d known how sensitive you are I wouldn ’ t have told you, ’ he sighs. ‘ You try to be a gentleman, and look what it gets you…’
I shut out his rambling as I gulp down air. There ’ s nothing left in my stomach at this point. Still, my body has a mind of its own, obviously wanting to expel any and every memory of the suspicious substances on my body.
‘ I need to get this shit off of me, ’ I whimper swivelling to hold onto Ruaridh ’ s arm.
Ruaridh ’ s smile fades slightly as he takes in my appearance.
‘ Right. Now. ’ It comes out as a pleading shout, and I ’ m not in a position to care.
‘ Anything my girl wishes, ’ he says, waving me towards the entrance to the room and back into the stairwell.
My steps falter at the shards of glass that catch my eye. Right next to where I threw the whiskey bottle. Ruaridh doesn ’ t seem phased though instead he ushers me forwards with a surprisingly gentle grip on my shoulders.
Once we are at the bottom of the steps I try to hunt around for any sign of life but Ruaridh ’ s whispers in my ear distract me as we walk through the gallery and to the entrance to the outside.
‘ Don ’ t look, baby, you don ’ t want to see something like that again. ’ Referring to the destroyed planets littering the walls. ‘ The poor bodies will be etched into your memory forever if you do. ’
Another point for him being crazy.
Last night had helped me blow off steam but it also worsened the condition of my bat. The bat has been with me through thick and thin. Helping me kill crazies and killers alike.
Now it ’ s breaking, threatening to leave me alone in this world.
The thought hits me like a punch in the gut, and the pain of it almost chokes me.
It is all I really have to show for the last few years.
We don ’ t have many options to carry around sentimental items, especially anything big.
And if one of the psychopathic survivors sees that you have something you care about, they either use it against you or take it for themselves.
Remembering that the Skull leading me out into the open is also part of those psychos, I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders.
Why have I suddenly experienced a bout of amnesia and forgotten all the warnings about his group?
‘ So where is it then? Or are we just waiting for it to rain so we can magically clean ourselves? ’ I ask.
‘ She ’ s funny too, ’ Ruaridh deadpans to no one in particular as he sets off down the street, dodging the mess that most of the roads are now in after years of being left unattended.
‘ Theres an office block a wee walks away. It looks like the army set it up early on, after everyone had died. There are a couple of places like them around the city, set up in developing or abandoned areas to ensure no one would be there. The last time I checked, it was still up and relatively functional. If we ’ re lucky, the shower system will be fine, and we ’ ll get that well-deserved wash we ’ re so desperate for. ’
‘ Lucky? ’ I huff, ‘ luck is a myth at this point. ’
‘ Good thing I ’ m feeling lucky enough for the both of us then, ’ Ruaridh says as he pulls his mask down to conceal his face. ‘ After all, I am a thing of tales and mystery. ’ He does some weird jazz hands as he heads down the road.
I roll my eyes at his comment, but I can ’ t hold back the small smile that spreads across my face at him. A fucking Skull, supposedly the most feared men in Glasgow, is dancing down the street comparing himself to a fairy tale.
This world is batshit crazy.
And I ’ m voluntarily following a psychopath, all for the chance of getting a wash.
I ’ m so going to get myself killed.