Page 44 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)

His response is instant, and I imagine him laying in bed, phone in hand, his brows furrowed and his body tense. Always on the edge, exercising his self control like the entire world depends on it. And maybe it does.

DOMINIC

You should be. Remember what I told you when we met at the clinic? I warned you.

ME

Dom, please.

DOMINIC

Never run from a predator. It triggers the hunt.

Goosebumps erupt across my skin, and suddenly, I feel him all over me. The ghost of his hands gripping my body, the heat of his lips on mine, and the danger in the way he touches me like he’s one breath away from losing control.

I can’t take it.

I duck in between two buildings, pressing my back against the cool stone wall as I fight to regulate my breathing.

If threats of sexual violence is a kink, it’s definitely mine.

This is exactly why I had to leave. His power over me is a drug that pulls me under and holds me captive. He could lead me like a lamb to the slaughter, and I wouldn’t see the knife until the blood was already flowing.

My phone vibrates in my palm, and I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a deep, steadying breath before reading the next message.

DOMINIC

Run, little lamb.

My lips part, my breath coming in soft pants as my body flushes from the sudden surge of heat. I press my thighs together, desperate to relieve the ache blooming low in my belly.

How can I want him like this? So desperately, so completely, even knowing what I know? I feel no shame as my memories flood in. Images flash behind my eyes: Dominic chasing me through the field, taking me down, and fucking me like a man possessed.

And if he’s evil, what does that make me?

I slip my phone back into my pocket and duck into the crowd, heading north. My heart beats faster with every step, convinced my stalker is following close behind.

My mind’s playing tricks on me. I feel like I see him everywhere. Dark green eyes in the faces of strangers. The feel of his fingers brushing across the back of my neck. My skin prickles with the sensation of eyes watching me from every idling vehicle, and every darkened alley.

By the time I reach the edge of the city, my pace finally slows. My stomach twists with hunger, so I walk into a coffee shop and spend the last of my money on a sandwich.

I don’t think Dominic noticed when I took the stack of cash he left in my backpack and hid it in the back of his closet. Although I couldn’t bring myself to use anymore of his money, part of me wishes I kept a twenty dollar bill, just in case of emergency.

When I’m done eating, the sky is on fire—brilliant streaks of orange and pink painting the clouds as the sun sinks low. I keep looking up at the sky as I walk, so distracted I nearly bump into someone passing by.

Glancing around, I recognize a sign. I’ve made it to my first destination .

I’m standing at the far end of the city, just outside Markham, near Highway 7—a stretch that leads northeast to Cedar Shores. This is the place I picked to start hitchhiking.

My phone rings, startling me. I pull it out of my pocket, and my heart begins to race when I see Dominic’s name.

I lift the phone to my ear, my voice trapped in my throat.

“It’s the end of the road.” His voice is rough and low, threaded with emotions I can’t name. At least not without seeing them dancing in his dark forest eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?” I question, spinning around to try and locate my stalker.

I don’t find him along the street, and I don’t see him along the dirt path that runs parallel to the quiet, backcountry highway.

“I’ll never kill you, Wren. I’d rather die than hurt you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

I scoff. “Serial killers are capable of love?”

The dark, low laugh that spills from the phone raises the hairs on the back of my neck. “I’m not a sociopath, little lamb. I feel everything, and I feel it deeply. When I'm not indulging my darker tendencies, I satisfy the others.”

The way he’s completely unapologetic about who he is never fails to unnerve me.

“And what are your other tendencies?” I ask quietly, eyes sweeping the landscape like I’m searching for a predator I know is hiding in wait.

“The only one that matters right now is my obsession with a certain little lamb that thinks her future doesn’t revolve around being pinned down in my fucking bed. ”

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and bite down, hoping the pain will center me, then I turn toward the highway and jog to the graveled shoulder.

“I’m falling in love with you,” I admit. “If you’re a psychopath, what does that make me?”

A moment of silence, then a breathy sound that reminds me of the one I make when I’m fighting the overwhelming lust his words inspire in me.

“It makes you mine,” he growls, the last word so low and full of hunger that it hardly sounds human.

“Run, little lamb. Make me earn it.”

My breath catches, a memory igniting behind my eyes. I remember what it felt like the last time I made him earn it.

The phone goes silent, the call now ended.

We still need to talk, there is so much left unsaid. I need to know I’m really safe; not just with him, but from the bad men that seem to gravitate toward Dominic and his brothers.

And we will talk… but I can’t outrun the inevitable, not even if I tried.

I belong to him.

Dominic killed to protect me, to save my life. A life the world decided was worthless. A life that I decided was worthless.

He saw something in me worth fighting for, worth killing for, worth dying for… and damn it, I can’t walk away from that. As afraid as I am, I need to remind myself why I felt safe with him in the first place.

He didn’t have to help me at the clinic, he didn’t have to pay for my care and my medication.

He didn’t have to risk everything to save my life when I was attacked.

He didn’t have to stalk me everywhere, keeping me safe, watching over me.

He didn’t have to open his home to me, and insert me into his family like I always belonged there.

The way he loves me is unconventional. It doesn’t fit society’s definitions, but neither do I. I haven’t for a long time. I never had anywhere to belong, not after my mom died, but now? I belong with him. For better, or for worse.

I will learn to love the monster that is Dominic Kael. He may be a devil of a man, but he’s more than willing to be the hell where my own demons can finally build a home.

He wants me to make him earn it, and I’m happy to oblige.

I stick my thumb out and start walking slowly along the shoulder of the highway. Two cars pass. Then another. Finally, a blacked-out SUV pulls onto the road and slows beside me.

I flinch when both the front passenger door and the rear door swing open. Two men in black suits step out. The one from the back stands next to the open door, his narrowed eyes radiating cold cruelty.

Fear slams into me like a freight train. I stumble back just as the second man approaches, a white towel clutched in his heavily inked hand.

I watch in horror as a sick grin spreads across his face, and I know in an instant: these men are mafia.

They aren’t here to offer me a ride.

I scream, turning to run, only for a large hand to grab me by the upper arm and slam me back against his broad chest. One arm snakes around my waist, pinning me in place as I thrash and scream and flail in pure panic.

The towel slams down over my nose and mouth, and the sickly-sweet scent rushes into my system like a trap closing. I hold my breath on instinct, but it’s no use. My head swims instantly as he begins dragging me backward toward the SUV.

And there, down the road, I see him.

Dominic bursts out of the forest, his face contorted with rage, his body charging like a war-born monster. He’s running full speed toward me, but he’s too far away.

My limbs weaken as my vision blurs, and my oxygen-deprived lungs override my common sense. I inhale—one full, desperate breath—through the chloroform-soaked towel.

“WREN!”

My name is a roar of fury from his lips, a war cry that promises annihilation.

It’s the last thing I hear before the world goes dark.