Page 14 of Sons of Hellfire (Hellfire Society #1)

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Ali

“ F inders keepers, Ali.” The words float through my mind like a boat in a storm, rocking back and forth.

Everything is fuzzy right now, but the first thing I noticed when I came to seconds ago was that I was being carried.

Not dragged, not thrown over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but carried in a bridal hold as if whoever was holding me was being gentle.

I keep my body relaxed, eyes closed, as I try to figure out what happened and what is going on.

My body aches, but I did sleep on the ground in a pile of dirt.

And sleep is a loose term when I could hear bodies moving out and about throughout the night.

Even the gentle breeze of the wind would wake me.

The last thing I remembered was hearing the loudspeaker come on, someone telling us that the actual count was now beginning and that weapons and supplies had been spread throughout this new hellhole.

When the voice disappeared and the siren rang, I debated long and hard whether to venture out.

It was a risk, one I wasn’t sure was worth it, but, in the end, needing supplies or at least some type of weapon won out.

Most of the contenders I’d seen hunting the shadows have all been decent sized men, and I’m confident in my skills, but I’m only one woman.

If I were the one who ran into the group of thugs last night instead of muzzle guy Riot, I wouldn’t be standing here.

I have seen none of the other women I caught glimpses of in the cages and train, but they were probably doing the smart thing and hiding.

But I wasn’t that type, so I pulled up my big girl, metaphorical panties and went out to search for something.

I was only a few minutes into my search when I saw a group of men heading in my direction.

After ducking into the nearest building, I kept my steps as quiet as possible, thinking I had moved fast enough.

Moving quickly to a back room, I prepared to wait out the passing group, only to realize I wasn’t fast enough as I heard footsteps and chuckles coming through the wall.

Despite being outnumbered as they closed in on me, I was ready to go down fighting. Hopefully take one or two with me.

This was supposed to be every man or woman for themself, but this is the second largest group I’ve come across since I was shoved off the damn moving train. Something wasn’t adding up, or this “game” was rigged from the start.

When they saw I wasn’t going to just back down and cower, they gave me a choice.

Suck their dicks and I can go free, or I can put up a fight, and they will choose my punishment.

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

I was surrounded by six long-dead president-looking fuckers, telling me I either suck them off and live or fight, and they will take me anyway before probably killing me. Choices, choices.

One of the assholes grabbed me by my hair and yanked my head back, causing a yelp to leave my throat. On instinct, I spun around and punched him in the face. My knuckles throb, but when I hear a nice little crack, I grin.

“Stupid bitch. You shouldn’t have done that.” One of the jerks growls behind me. I spin in his direction, but with everyone’s face covered, it’s hard to tell who said it .

“Oh yeah, eat a dick.” I say, more to them at large, but it lets me know who just spoke when said fuckface takes a step forward.

“Look, you little cunt. We can either do this the easy way, and you can walk away alive, or the hard way, where you won’t leave this room at all.

” Chuckles sound around the room, and I swear my eye twitches in irritation when the asshole reaches down and grabs his junk.

Why are some men such pigs? No one would want to touch him with a ten-foot pole with that disgusting attitude.

Without much thought, I take a small step forward and send my foot flying, hitting the idiot right between the legs. “Fuck you and your tiny dick.” The small-dick man’s hands fly to cover his now bruised balls before he slams to his knees.

Another guy steps up before calling out, “Hard way it is. We are going to enjoy this a lot more than you are.” The sound of belt buckles and zippers undoing echoes around the wall, and a strike of fear shoots through my body.

I freeze, and that is exactly what this new fuckface was waiting for because the next thing I know, a fist is flying at my face, and I know I don’t have time to react.

Like a car hitting a wall at 100 MPH, I crash to the floor, my head hitting hard as I cry out in pain.

My vision instantly goes blurry as I see three new shadows enter the doorway.

My last thought before I accept the darkness is, this is going to hurt like a bitch .

N ow I’m being carried by some mystery person.

My body swaying with their every step. My face hurts more than childbirth; not that I would know, but I’ve heard rumors, and I’m beyond exhausted.

Would it be so bad to just die already? The only thing I can think is about to happen is they are moving me to a more secure area so they aren’t interrupted.

Honestly, this wouldn’t be happening to me right now if I had a dick and balls.

Maybe I can play off of that, tell them I’m actually a very pretty dude.

Even just the thought of that coming from my mouth is laughable.

My tits are 100% grade A natural. Plus, there is no way in hell I could tuck any type of dangling object between my legs with what I’m wearing.

“You can stop pretending you’re asleep now.

” My body tenses involuntarily at the man’s words.

Fuck, I’m so dead. Wait. His voice. “Open those pretty eyes for me, little beastie.” I know that voice.

That’s…that’s… “Come on, wife, didn’t you miss your husband?

” My eyes fly open, my body buckling in Riot’s arms. I almost tumble out of them, but he catches me at the last second.

“Calm down, we’re not going to hurt you.

” My eyes snap to his. My head swimming with confusion at his words. We’re? Who is we?

Before I can ask, Riot lets out a chuckle and gently places me down onto the floor. I expect it to be hard and cold, but I’m surprised when I’m placed on a pile of worn, dirty blankets. My confusion only deepens as Riot steps away, and I have a chance to take in the room we’re in.

Just like the rest of the town, it’s a run-down mess, but the walls and window seem to be intact. Piles of trash and debris litter the floor but seem to have been swept to the side. There’s a small makeshift fire pit currently holding only red embers. That must have been nice last night.

Movement to my right has me snapping my head in that direction.

How could I be so stupid? Riot just said we, as in multiple people with him.

With the windows providing enough light to light up the room, I see three men standing against the wall.

All watching me like hawks; at least I think they are because I can only see Riot’s eyes above his muzzle.

Next to him is a slightly taller man, whom I realize is the creepy fuck who just stood there and watched me get attacked by a killer clown last night.

Now with more light, I can see he is wearing simple blue jeans, a zip-up hoodie, and hand wraps like the ones I use when I fight.

His hoodie is still up, but his mask is better seen now.

It’s an all-black, faceless mask; now it makes sense why he seemed so creepy before.

Not seeing someone’s facial expression makes me nervous.

The last guy is the same size as Riot, wearing gray cargo pants and high-laced combat boots.

He is only wearing a black leather jacket that hides absolutely nothing about his lickable chest. Fuck no, Ali.

Crazy is not our type. He is rocking a gas mask that also covers his entire face, but something about this guy seems strangely familiar.

Also, what kind of bullshit is this that every man I’ve seen so far, other than the one guy that was humping Riot’s back, has all been in tactical or appropriate fighting attire? While I’m over here looking like I’m about to go on stage to give them a show. Totally not fair.

“What am I doing here?” I glance around the room again, looking for anything I might be able to use as a weapon if these three turn out to be pervs.

Though that makes me disturbed since I did fuck one of them after killing someone.

Then I stabbed him in the leg and took off. Shit, he might be salty about that.

“We won’t hurt you, Ali cat.” I glare at the faceless man because Ali Cat, really? As if he senses my annoyance, he shrugs, throwing his hands up. “Kitty has claws.” I can practically hear the grin in his tone, and I want to wipe it clean.

“We saved you, wife.” Riot says next, taking a step towards me. I roll my eyes. Wife? This again?

“I’m not your wife.” I grind out. Why do I always attract the crazy ones? Riot just nods his head, continuing to slowly get closer.

“Ri, man. I don’t think she is ready to take on your full crazy just yet.” The third guy says, and I know that voice too. Even muffled by the mask, I can tell that it is the asshole who brought me this stupid outfit in the first place, Arsen.

As Riot takes yet another casual step forward, I spot an opportunity of a lifetime.

I have one chance to pull this off. I lean away, making myself look small and afraid, unassuming.

This move causes Riot to pause right where I need him.

He turns to look back at his friends, trying to figure out why the sudden change, giving me my chance.

It’s now or never. With Riot turned away, I surge forward, grabbing the knife tucked into Riot’s sweats.

In three seconds flat, I’m up behind him, blade held to his throat, and turning to face the other two.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen next, but it wasn’t Riot giving me a full-body shiver following a low sexual moan. The sound sending zaps of electricity to my core.

“See, I told you she was the perfect wife.”