Page 41 of The Games of Madmen

“And tonight,” Jeremiah continues, “you won’t let me fuck you. Have you let them cum in your whore pussy, Ally?”

“You’re drunk and sound just like Adam.”

“Do you want to fuck my brother too? Is that your thing?”

“Fuck off.” My voice trembles but not with fear. I’m vibrating with fury. When Jeremiah woke up this morning, and saw my bruises, he asked what I did to provoke Adam.

Fucking bastards. The both of them

“Who are you fucking?” he demands.

Rage swells up inside of me and my nostrils flare. “You’re theonlyone I fuck.”

Unfortunately.

“You know,” he snaps, shaking his head as if he doesn’t believe me. “I won’t stand for a liar and a cheater.”

“I’mnota cheater.”

I’m a liar though. Through and through.

“I won’t let you make me look like a fucking idiot,” he snarls, eyes turning manic. “I’d rather kill you than let someone else fuck you.”

Silence fills the room as his words slam into my chest. I shakily remind him of what he needs to hear. “No one else is fucking me. I’m yours.”

He barks out a cruel laugh. “Adam wants you.” His arm drops at his side, revealing the Glock in his grip. Has he been hiding it this whole time behind his back?

My heart rate skyrockets.

He has a gun. He has a gun. He has a gun.

Think, Alyona! Calm him down!

“Jer,” I whisper, voice turning sugary sweet. “Please. I don’t want Adam or anyone else. Let’s go to bed. Let me please you. Whatever you want. I’m sorry for earlier.”

In a few quick strides, he makes his way over to me. The butt of the gun slams against the door beside me in the hallway, making me jump. He nods with his head in the direction of the room behind him that I know is empty.

“Pop.” He says it softly but it still makes me jump. Then, he looks me dead in the eye as he points the gun at me. “Pop.” Another flinch on my part. Finally, his hand raises, and he holds the gun under his chin, grinning like a psychopath. “Pop.”

Fucking crazy ass bastard.

“I’d rather kill us all than see you with anyone.” He grabs hold of my hand and drags me back to our bedroom like he hasn’t just threatened to murder us all. “Lose the shirt and let’s go to bed now. I’m sure you’ll be back to your normal self by morning.”

Why did he have to say that shit? Why did he have to threaten me with the three pops? Not one or two but three. I’ll never allow that to happen. He’s given me no fucking choice.

Now Ihaveto run.

Wet sticky heat clings to me. I’m covered in it. Why the hell is it so warm tonight? Pushing the covers away from my naked body, I swing my feet over the side of the bed. A hiss escapes from me when I tread on something sharp. “Ow.”

Whatever sleep was clouding my mind has lifted as I note all the pricks on the soles of my feet. The light switch flicks on, bathing the room in a glow too bright for my eyes to adjust. “What the hell?”

When my eyes finally find focus, my heart rate spikes. Crimson stains litter my entire body. It’s as if I’m a character from a zombie show, just now waking from the dead. Am I hurt? Did Jeremiah finally do the deed?

I spin to face the bed, and a startled scream rips from my throat.

More blood.

Everywhere.