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CHAPTER 2

J essica

Darkness.

Fear.

The rush of adrenaline.

Anger.

Every emotion roiled inside of me, churning in my gut as I raced through the forest. Tree limbs slapped against my face, debris almost making me stumble more than once. But I refused to be that girl, the stupid one in the movie that was killed first. I was better than that. Stronger. Faster.

I could outrun him.

Then what? What are you going to do?

Go to the police. Yes, that’s what I had to do.

Hope drowned out fear, but only for a split second. He would never allow me to escape.

Panting, I tried to get my bearings, but the darkness was too thick, my mind still processing the killing. I’d never seen anything so gory. So easy. The monster had no issue with the horrible deed. Images of the arc with the knife, the steel blade coming down slammed hard against every synapse.

Run. Run. Run!

That was all that mattered. To get as far away from the monster as possible. Another tree limb snapped against my face, the pain biting. A scream erupted from my throat, but the agonizing sound was short lived.

The predator caught my hair, yanking me painfully with a brutal jerk. A wave of agony tore through me just before my back was slammed against a tree. Suddenly, he was there. The bad man. The monster.

My savior.

This couldn’t be real.

But it also wasn’t a virtual moment. I knew by the savage way he was holding my hair. He was extremely strong, enough so he could rip the strands from my scalp with ease. Even worse, he could use the same sharp blade to end my life before it had even begun.

He took a deep breath while wrapping his arm around my throat, pushing the tip of his thumb just under my chin. The eerie glow from his mask was the only light, the denseness of the trees’ canopies blocking the almost full moon. If he was trying to intimidate me, it was working.

The stranger tipped his head to the side, obviously studying me, maybe deciding what he would do with me. I’d seen the crime. I’d witnessed the brutality.

All I could hear was the rapid thudding of my heart, but he was calm, completely collected.

“You shouldn’t have left,” the bastard told me.

“Why? Did you want me to stick around while you murdered another innocent person?”

“I assure you he wasn’t innocent by any stretch.”

Huffing, I had a feeling I’d made him angry. The fear was palpable, but I wasn’t going to give up or in without a fight.

“Your pulse is racing, but not from fear, from excitement. Is this not what you’ve craved?”

What the hell was he talking about?

“No. Never. I’m a very good girl.” My voice sounded weak, more so than I’d ever heard before. A good girl?

His chuckle was sensual, the monster enjoying every second of my terror, but he made me question why I was drawn to him. I was afraid, yes, but more intrigued with another human being than I’d been in a long time. “A good girl. Are you really?”

“Yes, of course.”

He shifted his hand, cupping my jaw with a reminder of just how strong he was and what he could do. Using only his thumb, he rubbed the rough pad across my face. It felt sticky, as if the man’s hand was covered in blood.

“You’re lying to me. Never lie to me,” he said, this time in a commanding voice. “You prefer all things dark. Don’t you?”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know enough to realize you’re perfect in every way.”

What the fuck? Perfect? The man was delusional.

When he spun me around to face the tree, I kicked out, almost lucky enough to catch him in the balls.

“Oh, a fighter. I love that in a woman. However, your disobedience can’t go unpunished.”

A slight whimper escaped my lips. I braced for the sharp pain and certain death, fighting tears and memories. I wanted to live. There was so much I wanted to do with my life. How dare he try to take it away from me?

A rush of energy swept through every muscle and I kicked out again, this time connecting with something. The raspy grunt was a reward and I almost managed to break free as he tried to recover. But he was too fast, his hold too strong as he yanked one arm over my head and then the other. A single massive hand gripped my wrists.

I was pinned by his weight, able to feel the bulge of his hard, throbbing cock. The man was getting off on terrorizing me. I bit my inner cheek to keep from whimpering while I wanted to scream. The twisted bastard would likely have an orgasm if I begged for mercy.

No

I refused to give it to him.

There was nothing to prepare me for the jolt of pain as he smacked his hand against my backside.

What the hell was this monster doing?

He repeated the action, sending a wave of heat straight to my torso.

“You like this. I can tell,” he stated as if he really did know me.

“You’re crazy.”

In response, he continued the spanking. Every hard crack of his hand was more brutal than the one before. While I continued fighting what he was doing and the man’s horrible hold, he was so strong I was exhausted within a couple of moments.

“You crave the kind of pain only I can provide.” With his hand still pressing me against the tree, he crouched down. I fought to figure out what he was doing, the darkness preventing me from seeing anything.

I felt the results of his actions seconds later as he swiftly lowered my jeans and the punishment from his hand turned into something more savage. He’d found a switch, a limb thick enough that when he brought it across my sit spot, anguish exploded into every nerve ending. And my pussy clenched.

Breathless, the agony stealing my breath, I fought for release, but it was no use. He smacked my buttocks and the tops of my thighs with rapid, even, and brutal strikes.

“Stop it,” I managed.

“You don’t really want me to, little lamb. Now, do you?”

The monster was fucking with my brain.

Every time he brought the switch forward, I heard it before another line of fire crossed my ass. I moaned into the tree as the fire of his marks warred with the cool night air on my skin.

Maybe I deserved the savagery for showing him any moment of indulgence. Why were his terrible actions so exciting? Why were my panties damp? Why did I not fear the man as any normal woman would? Why was the agony I’d first felt turning into pure ecstasy?

Anger swelled in me, but there was nothing I could do.

He slowed his actions a few seconds later, gently rubbing my aching behind through my panties. I heard a whooshing sound as if he’d pitched the switch, and I quickly raised my jeans. When he turned me around again, I was forced to stare into his evil eyes.

Suddenly, I felt something sharp and realized he’d placed the tip of the blade under my chin. “If you’re going to kill me, you fucker, then just do it. I don’t have time for your demented bullshit.”

No, my words weren’t a good idea by any stretch of the imagination, but at this point, with no options and no possibility of escaping the madman, I no longer cared.

“I have no intention of killing you. Unless you want to die.”

“Fuck you.” I lifted my head up from the blade, daring him to kill me, daring the motherfucker to take out his insanity on an innocent woman.

I expected nothing less than pain and the blinding white light as I was sent to oblivion. Yet when he pulled the knife away, lifting the edge of his mask from his chin, I sucked in and held my breath.

But not for long.

He slipped his hand around to the back of my neck, squeezing as he’d done before while yanking me from the tree. When he crushed his mouth over mine, everything inside me froze solid.

Except my heart.

The rapid beating increased as the glow from his eyes pierced mine. There was more, another touch of excitement, more than a normal level of desire coursing through me like a wildfire burning in the middle of the night.

Hunger so primal, so extreme pulsed through every vein as he swept his tongue inside, taking full control of my mouth. Heat radiated off his skin, rushing into every cell, the kiss a red-hot moment where space and time no longer existed.

I could still smell the coppery stench of blood. It hung in the air like a violent reminder that this was no fairytale.

This was a nightmare, my savior nothing but an insane monster.

My mind flipped from his intimate touch, my body arching involuntarily even as I placed both palms on his chest. Everything about the moment and the stranger’s actions was so very wrong.

But I’d never felt such excitement, the increasing need confusing. There was no chance of wrapping my mind around the dark feelings and sensations. Nor the electricity that seemed to connect us when all belief in good and decent human beings was tossed deep into the forest.

Nothing about this was right, but I continued to cling to him, fisting his shirt as if my life depended on how I responded to his blasphemous intimacy.

When he pulled away, he kissed my forehead.

“Why would I ever kill something so precious? So perfect?”

Perfect. The word stuttered in my mind. Who was this man and how did he know me?

And I knew without a doubt he did.

That should be the most terrifying aspect of all, yet I felt like I was floating in midair.

“You killed that man,” I countered.

“Because he was trying to hurt you. A good enough reason.” He chuckled again and backed away another step.

Was he considering letting me go?

I crowded against the tree, my breathing becoming even more irregular than before.

“You’re a murderer.”

“I’m many things, little lamb, most of which you’ve yet to learn.”

“I don’t plan on doing so. You disgust me.”

He held up his hand, slowly curling his fingers one by one. “Be careful, my lamb. I hold your life in my hands.”

The bastard wasn’t telling a lie.

“Please let me go.”

“I do adore it when you use the word ‘please.’ Beg for what you want from me, little lamb,” he growled.

“I want nothing from you. Not a goddamn thing but to see you rot in prison.”

“Another lie. I told you never to lie to me. I’ll always know.” He snapped his hand around my throat, pinning me to the tree. “I can almost taste your desire. Soon, I will.”

The constant throbbing in my pussy was overwhelming, driving me to a point of pleasure I didn’t understand. He pressed his groin against me, rubbing his cock back and forth. A moan slipped past my lips before I could stop it.

“My, how hungry you are. Perhaps I’ll allow you a second taste.” He wasn’t giving me a choice. I was locked into the moment, crushed against the tree, and as his lips approached mine, I became breathless.

As he captured my mouth a second time, tiny bottle rockets exploded in my system, fire and ice combining to form the perfect slice of rapture. I willed my lips to close, using my tongue to keep his from entering my mouth. But as with everything else, it was no use. I stiffened, hating him. Loathing myself.

Wishing I was stronger.

Praying I could stop enjoying the sensations tearing through me because of him. The brutal, horrible man who’d taken a life.

And perhaps had begun to give me back mine.

The rush of heat was explosive, stars dancing in front of my closed eyes as he thrust his tongue inside. He was brutal and relentless, exploring every inch. His tongue was as powerful as the man, taking everything he wanted without ever considering asking permission.

My body continued betraying me, my back arching and my panties soaking wet. Yet tears formed in my eyes and I made a desperate attempt to break free of the spell he had me under. There was only one way.

The mask.

I tentatively placed one hand in his shoulder, willing my body to relax. He continued grinding his hips into my stomach, forcing me to bear witness to how intense his desire was. And my own.

Fuck him. Fuck this. I shifted my mind away to try to relax, making him think I was enjoying this. When I eased my arm over his shoulder, it was natural and unhurried. I snagged the edge of the mask along his ear and was about to pull when he reared back, snatching my hand away.

“Nice try, little lamb. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you crave this. You long to have a man take you, using you just like you’ve fantasized about.”

“Never. I don’t know you. You refuse to tell me who you are,” I said while scanning the area around me.

“That’s not important, at least at this time. Just know I will be watching you. Protecting you.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

“Oh, I think you do. Now, run, little Desdemona. Run before I change my mind. You like the chase, the hunt. Your blood boils with the need. So run.”

The man oozed control, so much so I was nearly suffocated by it.

His words stunned me, not because he was letting me go, but because he knew my screen name, the girl I’d invented for playing the games I cherished, one unknown by anyone outside the darkest gamers.

I shifted away from the tree while he laughed. My mind raced with possibilities of who he was.

What he was.

Yet there was no other choice. He was offering me life or death.

I chose to live.

“I’ll see you soon, my sweet Desdemona.”

Without looking back, I took off running once again, certain he would follow. This was a game to him, a dark foray into the pits of hell.

I refused to allow him to catch me, suddenly caught up in vicious mind games haunting my thoughts, the images tearing through my mind.

Blood.

Violence.

Sex.

Every aspect of the games I’d played and the ones I’d invented weighing heavily on my mind.

Yet I was free.

More so than I’d been in my life.

My legs felt more powerful, another rush of adrenaline keeping me going. I stopped only once, taking gasping breaths as I listened for his approach.

Silence met my quest, only the wind whipping through the remaining leaves still on the trees.

I scampered away another few yards and stopped again. He wasn’t there. I was certain I would feel his presence if he was.

Backing against a tree, I closed my eyes briefly. Why had he allowed me to live? I waited, for how long I couldn’t tell in the cold dark night, certain he would come back for me.

Finally, enough was enough. I slowly retraced my steps and pushed my way through a line of trees, capturing a glimpse of my car only a few yards away. Another wave of terror slammed into my system, but I refused to succumb to the game-playing bastard.

As I approached my vehicle, I scanned the parking lot, which was now empty, my car the only indication the place hadn’t been long deserted. Once I reached the passenger side, I hesitated, horrified of seeing the dead man all over again.

I had no choice. As I rounded the front, I said a silent prayer, shocked at what faced me.

There was no body.

There was also no blood, no sign that anything violent and horrible had occurred.

I backed against the car, the hard bump creating an ache in my hip. Even as I lifted my hands, the light illuminating my skin, there was no sign of the terrible ordeal I’d suffered.

None at all.

Did the masked man with the godlike body even exist? Or was I losing my mind?