Page 46 of The Black Lotus (Fatal Florals Duet #2)

THIRTY-NINE

SERENA

W ho would have thought the person supposed to serve and protect would be the one to kill me and finish the job?

Irritation boils in my veins as I struggle against my restraints, trying to piece together a plan to escape, run, anything besides staying an obedient little captive.

When he came to get me from the back seat, I was ready to headbutt him right in the gut, but he snatched me by my hair and dragged me out.

I wanted to fight but the moment his gun pressed against my back I froze as he quickly secured my wrists with zip ties.

I’m shocked he didn’t blindfold me and let me see where he took me.

When I got out of the car, I didn’t know where I was at first since only seeing an empty dirt parking lot, lights off to an entrance of some sort.

It wasn’t lit up and nothing was fully done, but once we got to the entrance, I saw the big sign for Graves Haunted House and my heart soared.

I wanted to say a snide comment about taking me to Aster’s place, that he would surely find me and cut off his balls for being stupid enough to bring me to his sanctuary, but I thought better of it, Jason’s cold steel was still digging into my spine.

Best to stay quiet in a situation where you don’t know your opponent.

Heading deeper into the grounds, all thirteen houses are bare.

With everything we’ve been dealing with, he hasn’t had time to think about what the houses will be this year.

He told me once this was all over, we would sit down and design everything together.

I feel tears threatening to spill over at the thought that our vision won’t come true.

That this pig will be the one to succeed and take me away from Aster.

We walk through the forest, through each abandoned house, finally stopping at the last one.

There are old chains hanging from the ceiling, ones that were forgotten or maybe ones to be used again.

Who knows; maybe Dirty Cop was the one to hang them .

An attempt to give his little lair a creepier feel to it.

I snicker at the thought.

“Is something funny to you?” Jason asks, ramming his gun into me harder.

“Just your futile attempt to make Aster’s haunted houses creepy, it is laughable. You know you really should have done your research. I happen to love horro-”

The last word vanishes from my chest as he smacks the back of my head with the barrel of his gun, my knees buckling as I collapse onto the dusty floor, almost face planting as my head spins.

“Keep up that smart ass mouth of yours and I’ll show you how scary I can be.”

I must have had some kind of stupidity juice this morning because, even though I scream at myself to shut up and stay quiet, I laugh in his face and say, “You don’t scare me, deputy. If anything, you intrigue me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyebrows dip in confusion as he holsters his gun.

Why would he pocket his weapon if he was planning on killing or torturing me .

I glance around the room, noting there is no other weapon in my line of sight.

Not one he could use on me or me use on him.

Guess the chains will be my way out of this mess.

If I know anything about Aster, one if not several of the dangling silver is real, I just need to pinpoint which one I can wrap around his neck.

I wiggle my arms as I rub my wrists together, tugging them apart in front of me, but feel nothing except resistance as my shoulders drop. I will find a way out of this.

I shake the thought away as I run my mouth again.

“Allow me to elaborate. I’m intrigued to find out what faces and sounds you’ll make when the roles are reversed.

When I get out of here and get-” I ponder the right word, sucking my teeth as a shiver of desire works through me, “-creative with the many ways I will torture you .” I really must have a death wish.

He kneels down, sitting on his heels and looming over me.

“You say you like horror? Will you like it when you’re the star of your very own movie?

” He smirks as he stands up and walks to the corner of the room, dragging a chair I didn’t notice before back to the middle.

“Have you ever seen the movie Jeepers Creepers ?”

Now I’m the one staring at him like he has two heads, but I’m curious to see where he’s going with this. “Of course I have. It’s a classic.”

He pulls me up by my hair, a hiss dying to escape, but I keep my pained feeling locked behind my lips, not wanting to give him any kind of satisfaction. His nostrils flare as he pulls harder, throwing me onto the chair, my head finally getting relief as I almost topple over from the force.

“The screams you hear at the end of that movie won’t compare to the ones I plan on ripping from you,” he threatens, bracing his arms on the armrests and boxing me in.

He doesn’t have his gun on me anymore, and he’s in the perfect position. He may have been smart enough to catch me, but he’s too stupid to keep me. I keep my eyes pinned on him, not giving anything away as I kick out, hitting him right where it hurts.

He curls over me with a yelp of pain, and I headbutt him, shouldering him onto the floor and rushing towards the exit. This is my only chance . My heart pounds as I sprint through the chains. I need to get free before he can stay true to his threat.

Stepping into the dark hallway, my body slams into the ground, my head cracking against the floor as Deputy Wiley tackles me. Our bodies spin as we fight for control and, even with all the training Aster gave me, I’m no match for a trained deputy.

I thrash under his weight, kicking my feet up, punching my restrained arms at his face, and just as I’m about to land a hit, he pulls his damn gun stopping all movements. “I suggest,” he gasps, his eyes wild, “you be a good little girl and do as you’re told, or this will be over rather quickly.”

I turn my head, submitting to his threat and laying limp in the dirt.

Grinding my teeth, I’m angry at myself for not being strong enough to take him. My nose burns, begging me to keep fighting. To not give up. If I had use of my hands, I might have stood a chance.

He wraps his fingers around my wrist, digging them into my flesh, not bothering to make me stand as he drags me across the floor back to the chair. My legs scrape against the cold concrete, leaving a tiny trail of blood as he tosses me onto the ground just below the spot I fear might be my end.

Pointing the gun at me, he motions towards the chair. “Try that again and I’ll put a bullet in your leg. Now, get up,” he demands.

Without a sound, I crawl onto the chair, trying to pinpoint the real metal from the decorations, but this room is so poorly lit, bathed in a dull orange I can’t tell real from fake.

Scanning the walls for a loose nail, I drop my head in defeat, seeing nothing aside for the already bloody and peeling wallpaper, which is no help.

There isn’t anything around except this chair I’m in.

There is not even a shelf I could throw down to slow him down.

“Spread your legs.” My head shoots up, eyes widening as I stare at him.

“Excuse me?” I ask, baffled at his demand.

“Spread your fucking legs before I lose my patience.”

Is he about to rape me? Sweat beads on my forehead. That would be far worse than any torture he could do to me . Him forcing himself on me would break me.

“Please, don’t,” I breathe as I slam my legs shut.

He grips each calf, digging his nails in to make his point.

“Good to know you fear my dick more than my gun.” Throwing them open, he secures them in place against the leg chairs.

“I’m no rapist,” he spits, tying my bonds tighter than necessary.

“Even if I was, I prefer my women older and,” his lip curls in disgust as his beady eyes trace my body, making me feel exposed, “smaller.” I press my lips together to keep from spitting in his face.

Not only is he a dirty cop, but he also shames women for their weight.

Makes me want to cut off his tiny dick and shove it down his stupid throat.

I stare daggers as he tells me not to try anything while he cuts my arms free.

Where did that knife come from? I glance at the sharp blade and weigh my odds.

Could I take the weapon and use it on him before he has a chance to react?

I nibble my lip, even though I want to, I know if I do, he would shoot me without a second thought, so I let him wrap my arms behind the chair and trap me in place.

“Oh, look, you can follow directions.”

I so badly want to carve his skin, my fingers aching for the moment I can retrieve the blade I know Aster keeps in the first house and drag it through his flesh.

Glancing towards the darkened hallway, I’m thankful Wiley set up shop here.

He doesn’t know all the houses are connected.

I fight a smile. He doesn't realize how close to his death I am.

He turns his back and walks away, looking over his shoulder as he says, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” He laughs, his face twisting. “Not that you could.”

Is this what Aster had to go through? Will I get the same chance to escape as he did? He told me she wanted him to escape and fight to the death, but Jason doesn’t look like he has any plans for me to try anything.

He doesn’t want a fair fight; he wants me dead.