Page 54 of Upon Blooded Lips (Vengeance #1)

ERIC

Willowmen, Illinois

J esus, I can’t stop thinking about the way Tessa shattered beneath me yesterday. The way her back arched, thrusting her tits into the air, her nipples hard little peaks begging for my attention.

I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of her going into the apartment, a piece of paper fluttering as it falls to the ground.

Huh. I thought she was looking for the pear of anguish.

Turning back to my task, I finish attaching the snake box to the top of the tank, checking it’s secure and that the flap works the way it should.

After putting the ladder away, I toss the tools I was using into their box and make a mental list of the rest of the things we need for Tessa’s plan.

I absentmindedly scoop up the paper Tessa dropped while heading over to the storage cupboards to check the inventory for what else we might need to buy.

A flash of movement catches my attention.

Where is she going? She knows she isn’t supposed to leave.

“Tessa, wait!” I call, but she doesn’t answer.

I glance down at the forgotten paper in my hand, and the blood drains from my face.

Fucking hell. Nate didn’t want to tell her about it, didn’t want her to have more to worry about.

Why didn’t I press the issue? Why didn’t I make him tell her?

Oh, Jesus. She thinks it’s true.

A coldness settles over me at the realization, and I clutch my chest, an invisible arrow piercing my heart. She believes it. She thinks we’d do that to her. After everything we’ve done, all the ways we showed her we loved her, how could she be so na?ve?

My mother’s words ring in my mind. I didn’t want you when you were born, so why would I want you now?

No. Fuck that. I will not fall back into that pit. Tessa chose us. We warned her it was forever, and there’s no going back. She’s ours and we’re hers. Period.

“Tessa!”

She disappears through the doors, not even looking back.

I race across the kill room, my heart pounding with each step, and tear the doors open.

My footsteps carry me down the hallway, fear nipping at my heels.

“Tessa, wait! Please!” I round the corner, glimpsing her tear-stained face as the elevator doors slide closed.

I punch my fist against the wall before spinning around and running back the way I came. Once I’m back in the kill room, I press on a panel leading to a hidden door, and throw myself up the emergency stairs, taking them two at a time.

I swing around a corner and take the final flight up, my breathing ragged as I reach the landing and enter the security code.

I practically rip the door off its hinges before hurtling into the warehouse, only to stop dead when I find an unfamiliar man holding a gagged Tessa at gunpoint, her eyes wide and pleading.

A whisper of movement sounds behind me, and everything goes black.

Salem Lakes, Wisconsin

Wednesday 1:29 p.m.

The rocking motion comes to a stop, and the hushed voices of two men speaking drift over to me. My head pounds something fierce, and a groan slips from me when I try to turn over. What happened?

I blink, but I’m surrounded by thick shadows and the scent of gasoline. Hazy images come back. The kill order. The devastation. Tessa running from me like I betrayed her. The stranger holding her against her will.

“He’s waking up.”

A door slides open, and I struggle against my bonds. David leans over me with a sneer on his face. “Nighty-night.”

Salem Lakes, Wisconsin

Wednesday 2:45 p.m.

Wake up.

Consciousness slowly returns, along with the scent of moldy hay and animal shit. It also brings with it searing pain in my head and arms, and the urgent need to piss.

I crack my eyes open, flinching against the dim light penetrating through the broken wooden slats of what must be a barn. Fuck, my head hurts. The chains securing my wrists rattle as I try to get my bearings, which is hard to do when you’re dangling from the rafters like a goddamned pinata.

A rusted tractor half covered by a tarp sits in one corner along with some tools that could come in handy if I can get myself out of this. Besides those and four empty stables filled with piles of hay, I’m alone.

Tessa. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Panic claws at my throat. Where is she? What the fuck does David want with us? Does he even know I’m Presley’s nephew, or did he just bring me along for the ride?

Images of what he could be doing to her assault my mind, making me queasy. He better not fucking touch her. I’ll rip him to shreds with my bare hands if he does. Nate isn’t the only one who turns feral when someone threatens his loved ones.

I tug against the chains, my biceps standing in relief as I lift myself, easing the pain for too brief a moment before dropping back down, my muscles screaming in protest at the weight they’re forced to carry.

“Oh, good, Sleeping Beauty is awake,” an unfamiliar voice drawls.

A man in his thirties, about my size and wearing a bulletproof vest with two guns holstered at his waist, saunters into view with a smirk on his face.

“Who the fuck are you? And where’s Tessa?”

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, sweetheart. I’m going to take you to see her.” He slams his hand against a lever, and the chains loosen, dropping me several feet onto the dusty floor.

Ouch.

He gives me a swift kick to the stomach with his booted foot, and I suck in a startled breath. “Get up.”

I push myself to my feet, my aching muscles trembling after hanging for who knows how long.

The guy grabs my wrists, purposefully digging the chains into my reddened flesh, and clips on a pair of handcuffs.

The chains drop to the ground with a heavy metallic thunk, and he shoves me toward a door that all but disappears into the wooden walls.

“If you’ve hurt Tessa?—”

His foot slams into the back of my knee, and I hit the ground a second time with a grunt.

He shoves my face into the hay-strewn floor, forcing me to breathe in the dirt and dust. His foul breath ghosts over my ear, making me shudder.

“Women aren’t really my type. But I’ll admit, she’s a pretty little thing.

Maybe I’ll take my turn fucking her.” He hauls me to my feet, and I struggle against him.

He curses and shoves me face-first against the wall, grinding his erection against my ass.

Bile rises in my throat. “Or maybe I’ll split this nice round ass open instead and fill you up with my cum. Would you like that, pretty boy?”

“Get fucked,” I grit out.

He chuckles and opens the door, pushing me through. I sweep my gaze over the surroundings, my heart sinking at the sight of endless cornfields. Besides a tiny dilapidated house and a classic red silo, there’s nothing as far as the eye can see.

Fucking Midwest and all the fucking cornfields. I’m going to insist on somewhere more urban when we move. Or possibly a beach somewhere. The goddamned mountains, even. Colorado’s quite nice.

“Keep fucking moving,” the asshole says.

Various scenarios run through my mind. I could dislocate my thumb to get out of the cuffs, but that would leave me vulnerable, especially since the motherfucker behind me has two guns. I’d rather take my chances out in the open than in one of the two buildings, but it’s not looking good.

His hand disappears from my back, and a gurgling sound has me spinning around, only to come face-to-face with my image reflecting back to me from a mirrored mask.