Chapter Twenty-One

With my newfound freedom, I stay out of my room all night long. A form of protest, I guess. I made myself breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Well, I attempted to. I’m not a fantastic cook, but I can do the basics. I watched endless amounts of trash TV, listened to hours of music, and even cleaned just for the sake of boredom. Zayden tried to sit with me on the couch when he came back from wherever he was, but one death glare and he surprisingly got up and moved to a room down the hall. I’m assuming he has a room here, or maybe he lives here full time too.

Dominic did say he was gone for a bit. I’m not sure where, though. For work? Does he even work? Vacation? Something tells me guys like Zayden don’t go on vacation, though.

At some point around the fourth or fifth movie, I ended up falling asleep. I’m only awoken in the dead of night by a crash in the dining room. I bolt up from my position on the couch, tossing my blanket aside to see a man on top of Zayden with several dining room table chairs broken. One of the wooden legs is splintered into pieces as the attacker beats Zayden’s face in.

Zayden just smiles through it, cackling at the man before grabbing one of the broken chair legs and plunging it into the man’s stomach. My eyes widen in horror as blood begins to pour around the impaled leg. Oh my god.

The man screeches in pain before Zayden tosses him off, grabbing a knife out of the chop block in the kitchen and sinking it into his neck, sliding it across the skin, and practically severing his head right off. Bile begins to rise in my stomach as I stare at the gory scene before me.

Once finished, Zayden stands over the man, his own blood running down his face as his shirt and hands are bathed in the man’s blood. He rubs his fingers together as if he were analyzing the blood before he smirks. He’s not just a crazy stalker, this man is a straight up murderous psychopath.

In the wake of their grand entrance, the front door wasn’t closed all the way, meaning I could have a way out. Zayden’s back is to me, and I’m honestly amazed he hasn’t noticed me yet. Then again, he was a little preoccupied.

As quietly as I can manage, I begin tiptoeing around him, only feet from the front door, when he speaks.

“Going somewhere, Angel?”

I freeze in place, my blood running cold, and my stomach bottoming out. My breathing begins to pick up as Zayden slowly turns to face me, looking like a blood-drenched grim reaper as he closes the distance between us. I do my best to walk backward, but he matches me step for step, slamming the door closed behind me, and officially sealing my fate.

“How much did you see?” he asks with a hint of a smile playing at his lips, his eyes crazed with what is seemingly bloodlust.

Shakily, I look up at him, meeting those crazed blue eyes as I speak.

“A-all of it.”

He nods, lifting a red finger to me before gently tracing my cheek.

“Not some of my best work, but it was a matter of importance.”

“Wo-ork?” I tremble as I look up at him.

He smiles down at me and shakes his head.

“Dominic doesn’t tell you anything, does he?”

I don’t even want to know what he means by that. I don’t care. All I know is that if I want to make it out of here alive, I need to be compliant. Closing my eyes, I steady my voice as I speak.

“Are you going to kill me now?”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Depends. Are you gonna tell on me, angel?”

My eyes fly open at that, locking onto his.

“No.”

I’m convincing even to my own ears, and for a moment, I have a small amount of hope of making it out of this. Until he gives me a wicked grin that sends a chill down my spine.

“Liar.”

Fear trembles through my body as he lowers his head into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as he smells me before flicking out his tongue and running it over my pulse point. The exact place where he stabbed the man.

“Come with me,” he rumbles into my ear before nipping at my earlobe.

I look up to see him pressing his finger against the biometric scanner, forcing the door to spring open. He pulls the door wider, gesturing for me to go first.

“B-but you’re so bloody.”

He looks down at himself, grinning, before lifting his shirt over his head and wiping his face and hands with it before tossing it to the ground near the growing puddle of blood on the floor. The first thing I notice is a smattering of tattoos across his chest. There are so many that it takes me too long to see them all before he’s gaining my attention again.

I look up to see him holding out his red-stained hands for inspection as I stare blankly at him. He rolls his eyes, slamming the door shut once more as he saunters down the hallway.

“Be back in five.”

Seconds later, I hear the sound of a shower fire up down the hall. My gaze hasn’t been able to leave the dead body on the floor, though. His eyes are still open, wide and terrified, with only tendons holding his head onto his body. The sight is enough to make my stomach roil, and yet, I can’t look away. Like a car accident, my eyes are glued to the horror in front of me.

My first instinct is to call Dominic, ask him why the hell he would leave me alone with his serial killer brother. But then a thought hits me: what if Dominic is just like him? What if I’m not in danger at all, not outside these four walls at least? What if this is all an elaborate ploy? To gain my trust, let down my guard and gut me like the family pig.

Quickly, I look around the kitchen for something, anything. A landline, a cell phone, a fucking smoke signal. I need to get out of here. Get away from these psychopaths before I end up just like?—

“Let’s go,” Zayden says with damp tousled hair, a new shirt, a leather jacket, and pants, along with a sparkling white smile.

The wolf really hides in sheep’s clothing. Any woman would see either of them in the street and throw their wet panties directly at them just for a second of their attention. That’s what makes them so fucking dangerous, though. Who even knows how many women they’ve killed, how many people they’ve killed, and how many more they plan to.

“D-dom said I wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment,” I stutter, despite my best effort. Every bone in my body is screaming at me, begging me not to leave with this man.

He grins at me, giving me a wink that sends my stomach roiling.

“Dom’s not here right now.”

He opens the door once again, forcing me out first before shutting it behind himself. We walk through the hall in silence before stepping into the elevator. The entire way down and all the way out to the parking garage, not a word is spoken.

Zayden stops short of a motorcycle before he tosses his leg over it.

“Get on.”

I hesitate, looking the thing up and down, before he turns an almost irritated look at me. It’s the first time I’ve seen him look at me with anything other than creepy obsession. And I have a feeling that is not a good thing, so I do as he says and climb on behind him.

He fires up the bike as I keep my hands tucked into my lap before he reaches back and yanks my arm out and around him, doing the same to the other side before he peels out of the garage in the next minute. We fly through the moonlit-drenched city streets, weaving in and out of cars and buses. It almost feels like we’re flying.

The wind wraps around us, hugging us tight as we continue our drive. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before. Not for any particular reason, just never have. Now I kinda wish I would have before I was no doubt about to die. He turns to look over his shoulder, his eyes flickering over my face before he taps my hands. I’m assuming that means hold on.

I brace myself, and sure enough, he pops the bike into a wheelie. I let out a scream as fear rushes through me before the bike lands, and a giggle escapes me before I can stop it. Zayden does it again and again before he turns a hard left and we begin going down a heavily wooded road.

I’m not sure how long we’ve been driving for. Could be a few miles, or it could be fifty. Eventually, though, the trees become thicker until we come upon a graveyard. The temperature instantly drops by ten degrees, and an eerie feeling begins to sink low in my gut as he follows the dark, winding, uphill-paved path.

Out of nowhere, he slows down, pulling the bike off to the side before shutting it off. He pats my leg, and I am assuming that means to get off. I do as he says before he does the same, only he leans against the bike, sitting sideways on the seat as he pulls a cigarette out of his leather jacket and a lighter. He lights it as he pulls out a knife from his pocket and begins flicking it in his hands almost mindlessly.

“What did you see?” he asks, his eyes on me.

I glance around me, noticing no signs of life, literally, anywhere. Swallowing roughly, I decide to answer. “I saw you kill that man.”

He nods. “Does that make you afraid of me?”

“Well, yeah. You didn’t just kill him, you…you enjoyed it.”

A spark lights up behind his eyes as he keeps his impassive face and nods.

“I did.”

My eyes narrow at that.

“Why?”

A slow smile spreads across his face.

“It’s human nature. Kill or be killed. Hunt or be hunted. We don’t live in the Stone Age anymore, and things are a little more complicated, but the same remains. You’re either a hunter or you’re the prey.”

“What does that make me?” I ask carefully.

A small smirk spreads across his face.

“That all depends on you, angel.”

We don’t say anything more. Instead, we both sit here and watch one another, neither making a move of any sort. After a minute or so of this, Zayden lets out a chuckle.

“Want to play a game?”

“No. But I don’t think I have a choice, do I?” I ask.

“No.” He smirks. “We’re gonna play a little tag. If you win, you’ll eventually run into someone, tell them the crimes you witnessed, and about the men who held you hostage.”

“And if you win?” I ask with narrowed eyes.

His smirk transforms into a wicked grin as he watches me with an eager glint in his eyes.

“Then I get you.”

A rush of fear hits me. I don’t know if he means get as in kill or get as in get. Either way, I’m not too enthused. Then again, he’s practically offering me my freedom on a silver platter. All I have to do is outrun him. Or his bike. Fuck.

“No bike,” I barter.

He cocks his head to the side as I continue.

“On foot only, no cheating.”

That smile returns as he nods once.

“Of course.”

I blow out a shaky breath as I nod.

“I’ll give you a ten second head start. Good luck, angel.”

I take a small step back as he begins counting.

“One. Two.”

I don’t wait around for three or four. Like a lightning bolt, I’m gone in an instant, choosing to run downhill because of the slight advantage. I hear his voice continuing to count down in the distance, though his voice thankfully becomes quieter with each passing second.

I do my best to stay on my feet, but the broken headstones and protruding tree roots are tripping me up every other step I take. The crisp night air burns my lungs, and my limbs already feel like gelatin. I’m definitely not a runner, but hell, at this moment, I wish I was.

My breathing wheezes as I turn a corner, doing my best to follow the paved path, knowing that it’ll take me to the main road. Unfortunately, I hear the pounding of footsteps behind me, and I risk a glance over my shoulder. Here comes Zayden, feet flying across the pavement toward me. Well, how fucking stupid am I for running through the graveyard and not on the fucking road?

I decide to cut to the right, pushing myself deeper into the cemetery in hopes he will get tripped up just like I did. I bob and weave around the smaller, more inset headstones, leaping over the occasional boulder or tree root. My heart is pounding to the point of pain, but I know I can’t stop.

An eerie sound, a maniacal laugh, echoes through the graveyard, sending goose bumps up and down my spine as the thumping of his footsteps increases. A cold sweat has broken out across my entire body, and just as I try to dodge to the left, my foot gets caught and my shoe flies off before I even take my next step.

Stopping in my tracks, I turn around to grab it when I see Zayden is less than fifty feet from me. Adrenaline rips through my body, and shoe be damned, I’m gone again. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s too fast. I’m too tired. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

In the next moment, two strong arms wrap around my waist, hauling me off to the right before plowing me into the ground. My back takes the bulk of the impact, the wet midnight dew soaking through my shirt as a large body lands on top of me, pinning me to the cemetery floor.

“Gotcha,” he rumbles into my ear.