Page 8

eight

I ’d scream if I could.

I’d yell for my neighbors, for anyone, for even fucking God at this point to save me as I fight and writhe and bite at Huxley’s gloved hand. He’s stronger than he looks, and way stronger than me, though I do get a few good kicks in.

“Lovely girl, as much as I want to fuck you in your yard under the sky like the animal you’re trying to be…” He drags me to my feet, his breaths coming in heavy pants as he works to hold on to me. “You’ll make too much noise. We both know you’ll scream the second—” I manage to sink my teeth into the meat of his hand, though all I taste is dirty leather and something metallic that I refuse to name. Huxley groans, though it’s not exactly a displeased sound.

“Yeah, you can bite me like that if you want, Kai.” He chuckles, then with a yank, he has me on my feet. Since I’m off balance, it’s easy for him to drag me back toward the still-open patio door. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t feel a lot through the gloves.”

I groan against his hand and roll my eyes. He’s insufferable, and I yelp when my heels hit the concrete of my patio.

With a huff, he readjusts his grip to jerk me upward with a murmured, “Sorry,” in my ear that I’m pretty sure I’m imagining. That, or he’s the world’s most considerate killer, and I have no idea how to deal with that.

He turns us again to close the patio door, and when I hear the lock click, it’s like something inside me plummets to the floor.

It feels a lot like hope .

When I try to make a noise of protest, it becomes a too-soft, too-scared whine, but thankfully it’s drowned out by the sound of aggressive knocking on my front door.

Both of us freeze. Standing in my kitchen with a killer’s arms wrapped around me and his hand over my mouth, forcing me to be quiet, I’m not sure which of us is more caught off guard.

“Kaira!” Patrice’s whip-like voice cuts through my house, and I wince at the sound of her admonishment.

Somehow, Huxley’s hold on me becomes firmer, but in more of a comforting, supportive way and not a murderous one. But yet again, I’m sure it’s something I’m imagining.

“I know you’re awake. I’ve been watching your lights flick on and off, and hearing the slamming doors. Do you know what time it is?” I have no idea how she’s heard anything, unless she’s using some kind of planted microphone.

“For fuck’s sake,” Hux murmurs in my ear. “How the hell do you live across from her?” His nose brushes my ear and I groan in reply. Though right now, she’s absolutely my savior. “She almost caught me loosening your porch light,” he adds conversationally.

I’m too busy trying to jerk free of his hand to be really impressed. I kick out at him, barely catching his knee, but it only makes him shift. “Really?” he mutters as I bite down harder on his hand. “ Really ? You’re being ridiculous, Kai. I’m not letting you go so that you can yell for?—”

“I know you’re awake!” Patrice repeats. I can all but see her clutching her robe around her, with her old, flower patterned crocs that make her skinny ankles look like chicken legs. “You’re on the verge of a violation, and I’m just trying to do you a favor!”

This time when I try to rip free, Huxley grumbles and whirls me around, shoving me backward until he can drop both of us onto the recliner. The room is mostly dark, with only the glow of the TV, and for the first time in my life I wish I would have opened the curtain that faces the street.

Unfortunately—as it also faces Patrice’s house—I never, ever keep my window uncovered.

As Patrice rants, I fight Huxley, trying and failing to writhe free. Any noise I make is stifled by his hand, and when I reach back to grip his jaw, then his hair, he uses his other hand to grab my wrists and pin them behind my back until he can crush me against him and use my weight to keep them there.

It’s not comfortable, and I cry out at the sudden, sharp ache in my arms from the unexpected stretch.

“Well, you started it,” Huxley huffs in my ear. “Can’t you just keep yourself quiet until she goes away? You really are?—”

I don’t know what prompts me to do it, but when I feel him leaning closer, I slam my head into his. The crack of our skulls hitting sends a wave of nausea through me, and judging by his yelp and the way his fingers unclench, I take it he didn’t particularly enjoy it either.

Maybe I broke his nose.

Or any other part of his face.

But his hands don’t slip enough for me to make a sound. I writhe free of his lap, half standing with his hand in my hair and the other over my mouth. But with my eyes fixed on the door, I’m desperate and maybe a little bit feral.

This is my only chance to get away from him. This is the only way I know how to?—

“Fine,” he snarls, sounding actually irritated for the first time. “ Fine . You actually want to do this, Kaira?” I flinch at the harshness of my name on his lips, but my eyes are trained on the door. I just need to?—

“Well, if you’d rather do this in the morning, that’s fine,” Patrice snaps at last, making my heart drop. “I won’t be back tonight if you’re going to ignore me.”

I whimper behind Huxley’s hand, and with the arm he’s not holding, I reach toward the door as if I can stop her.

Don’t leave , I want to beg. Please don’t leave me.

But she does. I can hear her shuffling steps on the porch, and every single one makes something in me unravel a little more.

I’m sore, my knees hurt, my head aches, and I don’t know what to do to get rid of the man behind me.

When he drags me closer to wrap me in a one-armed grip with his hand still over my mouth, I don’t fight him. I need to regroup. I need to figure out what to do next. To maybe?—

The sting in my upper arm draws a yelp from me that’s swallowed by Hux’s glove. My head jerks down so I can watch with horror as he depresses the plunger of the large syringe, sending the clear liquid within into my veins.

The only question I can ask is a soft, wordless whimper filled with both fear and trepidation. Even to my own ears, it sounds a lot like begging.

“Well, it’s your fault,” Hux informs me, sounding a little offended. Whatever’s in the syringe stings, and when he yanks the needle free to toss it on the coffee table, he immediately brings his hand back up to massage the spot he injected.

Which hurts like a real bitch, worse than my damn flu shot, and my whine turns into an affronted yelp as I gnaw on his palm.

“Oh, come on.” I swear I can hear him rolling his eyes. “You’re an adult. You know if I don’t do this, it’ll be sore as hell. This’ll make the drug spread faster instead of pooling right here. Be grateful, not bitchy.”

I’m not sure why the hell it matters if it stings when I’m assuming I’ll be dead by the end of the night. So all I can do is stare at him, wondering if he’d poisoned me or is trying to make it look like I overdosed on…something.

“And it’s just Midazolam, before you start freaking out. Not that you’ll be freaking out in a minute,” Huxley adds. “So we’re going to stand here, with you chewing on my hand like a dog, until I feel it kick in.”

I don’t know how he’ll be able to tell. And I sure as hell don’t know what Mida-whatever is. From the rest of his words, I’m definitely assuming it’s a poison. Or at least, something he’s overdosing me with.

God, I hope it doesn’t hurt.

Still fighting him, I grab for his arms, trying and failing to do anything of note. My teeth are still sunk into his glove as he holds me, and I see him check his Apple watch with a low hum of amusement.

“Oh, so you’re a panicker…” He chuckles. “I’ve met people like you before. It’s crazy how when people panic, if they’re committed enough, they can fight off the effects of—Oh, nope, there it is.” I don’t know what he’s talking about for all of about five seconds. At least, until I can feel myself sagging in his arms, and a second later he’s the only thing holding me up as my head spins and my overwhelming panic seems to melt into the floor.

His hand slides out of my mouth, and for some reason, I let him. The room seems to blur, and the next thing I know, I’m looking up at my ceiling as Huxley carries me back down the hallway to my bedroom. “What’d you give me?” I slur, staring at the fairy lights strung across my slanted bedroom ceiling.

“Midazolam,” he repeats, slower this time. “But I don’t expect you to remember. Or to know what it is.”

“Is it…” I trail off when he bends to drop me back on my bed, and I gaze up at him like he holds all the answers in the universe. I’m still afraid, still terrified of this man who definitely reeks of being a serial killer. But it’s a background fear. It’s not something that I’m able to fully access. “Gonna kill me?” I finally manage to mumble, my tongue feeling thick and clumsy in my mouth.

“It’s a sedative. So, no, it won’t kill you.” Huxley drops to his knees over me, his grin widening as he leans over me. “I’m a little disappointed,” he admits, reaching one gloved hand up to stroke along my cheek. “I wanted to play more, but you were just so determined to get other people involved. You weren’t playing by the rules.” He taps my nose before sitting back, making himself comfortable as he stares down at me.

“Can you blame me?” I can’t help the words, and I’m pretty sure the brain to mouth filter I have that half-works on my best day is now fully out of commission. “You want to kill me.”

“Ah, well.” He presses his hands to my hips, the gloves sliding smoothly over my skin. “Have you looked at yourself, Kai?” His grin is almost rueful. “You’re just so murder-able. And, let’s not forget, so fuckable.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” he slides his hands up my sides, dragging my shirt up with him. “I don’t need you to believe me, though. Because I’m more than happy to prove it to you.” I blink once, and my shirt is up over my chest. When I blink again, both it and my bra are gone and Huxley is staring down at my face expectantly. “How’s that sedative treating you?”

“Hate it,” I murmur, though it’s too hard to put more effort into the words. “Hate you .”

“Mm-hmm. I don’t always use it. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t have to use it earlier, don’t you think?” He moves enough to drag my shorts down my legs, and he’s almost gentle as he tugs them off one ankle, then the other. A low sound leaves my throat, like a whine, though he’s quick to lean down over me once more.

“No, don’t start that,” Huxley breathes against my lips. “You’re not going to beg, remember? You’re my lovely, feisty girl who promised she wouldn’t beg or plead. Shhh .” His hand grips my hip, and I sigh against his lips just as he kisses me.

This time it’s so sweet that I can feel my teeth ache with the honey of his kiss. He coaxes my mouth open wider, his tongue tasting every inch of me. Distantly, I can feel him nudging my thighs apart, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I feel like I’m floating, like my brain is wrapped in cotton candy to swaddle me and protect me from the real world.

All I can really focus on is Huxley’s mouth.

At least, until he presses two fingers between my thighs, thrusting them into me smoothly and pulling a sound of shock from my mouth. He chuckles and swallows it, greedily keeping all the noises I make as he fingers me open. I barely notice when he inserts a third, or when my hips start arching against him, though my movements are small and barely meaningful.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes gleam darkly, and he takes his time in studying me while he fucks me open on his fingers.

“Can’t move,” I murmur, like it’s some shocking revelation. I can’t even twitch my damn fingers.

“Midazolam,” he reminds me, sitting back and rearranging my legs so they’re around his hips. “You can keep being surprised and I can keep saying it, if you want.”

I know I should be afraid. I want to be afraid of him, especially when he pulls his fingers free and a shudder of need goes through me, like my body is disappointed at the loss.

Opening my mouth, I lose my train of thought when his face appears once again in over me, Though this time in my hazy vision, his face is backlit by my fairy lights, almost like he has a halo over him.

A long, low whine leaves me when I feel his cock at my entrance, and his lips curl in a confident, pleased smirk. “You’d want it even if you weren’t drugged,” he informs me, one hand on my hip as he teases my folds. He rocks against me, taunting me, not quite entering me, even though I’m sure he’s going to. “You don’t want to admit it, but I think I’m growing on you.”

“Like a cyst,” I manage to say. I’m so sleepy that I can barely keep my eyes open, but I force myself to watch him, and I try to swallow back the pleas that bubble to my lips.

I don’t want to die here.

Huxley snorts with amusement, and my body arches as he enters me in one smooth motion. I’m so relaxed that it doesn’t hurt, and some part of me, some feral, animalistic part, is pleased when he buries himself as deep into me as he can.

“You won’t last much longer,” he informs me, and I swear I hear a touch of disappointment in his voice. “You’ve got another few minutes at most. Anything you want to say to me?” he asks kindly.

“Yeah,” I start, only to gasp when he adjusts slightly and thrusts into me again, making me see stars. “I’d like you to not kill me.”

“How pedestrian of you. I was thinking more along the lines of where you want me to come, little bunny.” The nickname makes something in me clench with a feeling I refuse to identify, but apparently I don’t need to. Not when Hux groans and throws his head back, thrusting into me harder. “Oh, you should’ve told me you get off on that. Fuck, is it just that nickname? Hmm?” His hand on my hip moves, and he reaches up to grab my jaw again.

Except this time, it’s my throat his fingers close around.

“Want me to be your wolf, little bunny? I’ll gladly close my jaws around this pretty throat and remind you that you’re prey. Oh, fuck —” He thrusts hard into me again. “We’re into some dark shit, aren’t we, Kai?”

I can’t answer. I’m barely even awake. All I can feel is his cock sliding into me, stretching me perfectly, and the way his fingers dig into my throat.

“You little fucked up thing. Drugged out of your mind and you still want this. You want me to be your predator. To ruin you, to tear out your throat with my teeth.” He leans down to click his teeth together near my face. “That’s it. Your greedy pussy grips me so good when I do that.”

“Can’t…” My head is spinning, and dark spots swim in my vision. “Huxley, I’m…”

“I know, lovely girl, I know,” Huxley coos, though he doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t stop fucking me and his grip doesn’t loosen. “Go on and let go. Let me fuck your perfect pussy. Let me be the one to decide how you end this night. And don’t worry, Kai.” He lunges toward my face, licking a line from my jaw up to my cheek.

“I’ll make it so good for you.”