6. SIX

SIX

I must have slept like a rock. It's one of those mornings where I wake up confused. You know, when you're so sleep-deprived, it takes you minutes to process where you are and what happened the night or—in my case—nights before. Two nights ago, I left for the concert with a backstage pass and then got in my car and drove to San Francisco. Just yesterday, I found Declan in my hotel room.

And now, I'm on the tour bus with blood-drinking murderers.

I stretch, take a deep breath, roll onto my side, and find myself face-to-face with Luca. Shirtless Luca, lying on the bed in a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Hey," he says. "You're a heavy sleeper."

What the fuck.

"What do you mean? What are you doing in here?"

"Oh, yes! Oh, god, it feels so good!" a female voice cries out. My eyes dart to the door leading to the small bathroom, then back to Luca. I feel my cheeks flush.

"You've slept through about ten minutes of River doing that," he says.

"Are you going to come on my tongue?" I hear Hazel ask.

"Yes! Don't stop! Ahhh, fuck."

I lie next to Luca in bed, listening to River come, whimpering and moaning for a good couple of minutes before her cries finally start to die down.

Warm heat floods my core. Shit. He's been listening to this for ten minutes? I can't help myself; my eyes wander down his body—over his tattooed torso and past that 'v' disappearing into his waistband to where I can see his cock hard against his thigh.

I quickly bring them back to his face.

"I thought about you when I came in some girl's mouth last night."

My eyes go wide. "Wow. You just…said that out loud. That's…that's very sweet of you. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, smiling.

I cover my face with my hands and laugh. "Oh my god."

He runs his fingers over the tulip tattooed on my forearm. "This is pretty. Do you have any more?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," I tell him.

He scoots a little closer and props his head up on his elbow. "That's not fair," he says. "I saw you first."

"Why is that, anyway?" I ask.

"Mmm…what did they tell you?" he counters.

"That you would break me and ruin all the fun."

Now, it's his turn to go wide-eyed. "Really? They told you that?"

I nod. "Mmmhmm."

"You look pretty sturdy to me," he says. "I think you'll be okay."

Apparently, it's Hazel's turn now. I recognize her voice; I heard it last night when she came on Declan's face.

His eyes drop to my chest. "Your nipples are hard. Are you turned on?"

He reaches out and runs his thumb in circles over the hard point through the fabric of my t-shirt, causing me to suck in a breath. "Well…yeah," I say.

"What are you wearing under there?" he asks, pulling back the covers. I assume it's a rhetorical question at this point; he can see that with my t-shirt, I'm wearing a pair of silk red panties.

"Cute," he says. "I bet they're soaked."

Luca slips under the covers, then slides his hand up my thigh, and hitches the leg around his waist. He pulls my body against his until I can feel his hardness between my legs and then moves his hand up the back of my thigh and over my ass. Dipping his head down, he covers my mouth with his, gripping the cheek hard while he grinds his erection into my pussy. I let out a high-pitched moan, most of it buried in his mouth as his tongue slips into mine, tangling with my own.

Even his kiss feels like sex.

His expert tongue devours mine while he grinds against me, his free hand slipping under my head and grabbing a handful of my hair. The fingertips of the other hand run along the seam of my wet panties, slipping inside the fabric. I whimper as he runs them down my slit, and I reach inside the waistband of his pants, wrapping my fist around the base of his hard cock just as he slips them inside me.

Then, the bathroom door flies open. Both River and Hazel walk out in towels.

"You better not have your dick in her," Hazel says. "Get out, Luca."

He groans and pulls his mouth away from mine, his fingers still moving inside me beneath the blankets. I bury my face and heavy breathing into his chest.

"Just leave us alone," Luca says. "Pretend you didn't see anything."

"No way," Hazel says. "He'll be pissed."

"Seriously, Luca. Get out," River says. "Sorry, Teagan."

He sighs, sliding his fingers out and tucking his dick back into his sweatpants. He leans in and whispers in my ear, "I will get to fuck you, Teagan. I hope you are sturdy. Because when I do, I'm going to come in all of your holes until you cry."

Jesus.

"No talking, either!" River says. "Go! Seriously, get out."

"I'm going!" he says, rolling away from me. "I fucking hate you guys. You're so fucking mean to me."

"Not our fault," Hazel says. "We still love you."

"Sorry, Luca," River says.

He flips them off as he walks through the door.

"Sorry about that, Teagan," River says.

"It's fine," I tell her. Because what else am I supposed to say? That this entire weekend has been one big cock block for me, and I know what blue balls feels like now? I turn over and see River standing naked at the foot of the bed, stepping into a pair of underwear. My eyes run up her legs and over her hips to her small breasts, her nipples perky, hard points.

Yeah, that's not going to make my problem any better.

I lie back and look up at the ceiling before Hazel drops her towel, too.

"We need to talk about something else," River says.

"Okay…"

She climbs onto the bed beside me, now fully dressed.

"We're going to be home in probably…five hours or so," she says. "And there are different rules there."

"What kind of rules?" I ask.

"Nothing too serious," she says. "But there's one big one—no phones."

"No electronics at all, actually," Hazel adds. "Nothing with wifi, no cameras. No calling, no texting, no pictures, no videos."

"Okay…why?"

"Just to protect everyone," River says. "It's really not a big deal; I just wanted to tell you so that it isn't a surprise. So, if there is anyone you need to contact or anyone who might worry if you don't answer your phone for a few days, you can let them know now before you have to turn your phone over."

"Turn it over? Turn it over to who?" I ask.

Here I was, thinking I'd just have to turn it off—someone is actually going to take it from me?

"Declan. He keeps them in a safe on the bus. It'll be fine."

"And you guys do this, too?" I ask. "What if there's an emergency?"

"There's a landline in Declan's room," she says. "But like I said, it'll be fine. There won't be any emergencies."

"I'm going to go find something to eat," Hazel says, slipping out of the room.

"Me, too," River says. "What about you? Are you hungry?"

"Umm…I think I need to call my sister first," I say. "And take a shower."

"Okay," she says. "I'm sorry about Luca."

She leaves, pulling the door closed behind her, and I quickly grab my phone from the charger.

A few more texts from Blakely, two from my mom, and one from Hunter late last night. Overwhelmed, I close them, then decide I should at least let Blakely know what's going on.

Hey, you know that guy I think is killing women? He's going to take me to a secluded home in the mountains, and when we get there, he's taking my phone.

Yeah, I probably shouldn't say that.

ME Hey. I'm on the bus with the band. We are going back to their home in Idaho. They don't allow phones there. Please don't text me until you hear from me—I don't know who might be reading them.

BLAKELY What!? So, you still think they're murderers or you're just hanging out? Are you drinking blood, too?

ME Not sure yet, but I'm serious, Blake. Don't text me or DM me until I tell you it's okay. I'm going to clear these out.

BLAKELY Well, I wanted to let you know that one of our offers was accepted. You need to come home soon so we can deal with the living situation. Also, Austin rescheduled your interview for Thursday. Please take this seriously.

I throw the phone down on the bed, roll over, and scream into the pillow. Fuck. That was fast. This is the last thing I need right now.

ME Awesome. Bye.

I send my mom something more generic about being in the mountains and not having signal and how I'll be home later this week, then delete my messages and log out of my socials and emails.

Just in case.

Then, I tuck it into my bag and slip into the small bathroom. I pile my long, dark hair into a bun on top of my head and turn the water on. I'm not surprised when there's next to no pressure and it comes out lukewarm at best. It's probably not meant to be used frequently.

I could use a cold shower anyway, honestly. I've been watching and listening to other people having sex for days now. I had one of the most attractive men I've ever seen in real life in bed with me minutes ago—kissing me, touching me. Sliding his fingers inside me, my hand wrapped around the base of his huge dick.

Not having a rag or loofa, I lather some soap on my hands and begin running them over my skin.

And it is huge. Of course, it is. It's not enough that he's like a tattooed Adonis, carved from stone and exuding sex appeal as if he invented it. No, he actually has the dick to back up all of that mother fucking attitude.

And he said he was going to fuck me until I cry. I haven't cried in years, so that'd be a fun game to play. I'd show him exactly how fucking sturdy I am. Maybe I'd be the one to break him instead; he doesn't know me.

I wonder if Declan is even bigger. They are brothers. You'd think they'd be…similar.

That's who my thoughts slip to now as I run my hands over my breast, then down my stomach and between my legs. I rub small circles over my clit and think of him licking and sucking blood from my tits before spreading my legs wide and eating me on the table for everyone to see.

For his brother to see.

Fuck.

I moan, gripping the grab bar with my other hand as I stroke my wet center. The sound comes out much louder than I anticipated, and, remembering how thin the walls are and how much sound carries in the small space, I stifle my sighs as my orgasm builds.

And then, I look up and notice the detachable showerhead.

Yes.

I stand on my toes, take it down, and place it between my legs, moving until I get it just right. I bite back another moan; the pressure that wasn't great is perfect on my clit. I'm so close to exploding—it doesn't take much after everything I've seen this weekend.

"Ah, fuck," I whimper quietly. I look up and realize that I hadn't shut the door all the way; either that or it doesn't latch well. I wonder how long it's been like that. I move my eyes to the small mirror and spot a familiar set of green eyes watching me.

Luca.

Good. Go ahead and watch—even better. I roll my hips a little more against the steady stream, drop my head, and, gripping the handle and the bar tightly, let myself come, biting my lip hard to keep quiet as it rolls through me.

When I finally stop coming and look up again, the eyes in the mirror are gone.

I turn off the water and dry myself with a small hand towel—a drawback of being on a tour bus, I guess. Then, I step back into the main cabin and spot those same red silk panties I wore earlier right before I step on them.

I distinctly remember putting them in the outside pocket of my bag. And I did. Because when I pick them up, I quickly realize they're filled with cum.

I'm reminded that I'm not exactly normal when the corners of my mouth twist into a smile.

This is why you shouldn't be here, Teagan. Because what are you doing, really?

But I know what I'm doing. I'm in complete control.

I force the intrusive thought out of my head, open my bag, and dig around for something to wear. I'm running very low on options, and that's going to be a problem, especially considering the climate I'm heading to is much different than what I'm used to in Orange County.

It shouldn't be that much of a problem, though, right? Not unless I end up wandering the woods alone for days, lost and unable to communicate like Heidi.

Yeah. Then I'm going to wish I had a jacket.

I step into a pair of underwear, put on a bra, and pull on the same Metallica t-shirt I wore to bed, pairing it with a leather mini-skirt. Then, I slip into my boots, shake out my hair, and put on a little bit of makeup before stepping out into main living space with everyone else.

"There she is," Brady says. "The queen of horror herself."

My heart drops into my stomach. I try to play it off like I'm not sure what he's talking about. "Who? Are you talking about me?"

"We've been learning all about you. Declan showed us your TikTok."

Declan leans against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking. He looks me over with cold eyes, this time through a pair of dark-framed glasses. My cheeks flush red.

I turn back to Brady. "So? I like reading," I tell him. "It's a book blog. You don't have hobbies?"

"Yeah, I have plenty. I just don't do them naked online."

"I'm not naked," I say, sitting down next to River.

"Don't shame her," River says. "She's not doing anything wrong."

"Thank you."

"I think it's really cool," she says.

"I wasn't trying to shame her," Brady says. "It's just…I think I'm starting to see how you ended up here with us, on the rolling island of misfit toys. You don't exactly fit in either, do you?"

You have no idea.

"I'm sorry…on the what?" Hazel asks.

The girls and Rhett laugh, but Declan doesn't. He's watching me instead, waiting for a reaction, but I refuse to give him one. He brought up my TikTok and showed it to everyone?

Why would he do that? What's he playing?

"What about you?" I ask. "How did you end up here? What makes the rest of you misfit toys?"

The laughter quickly dies down. I follow Brady's eyes as they move to River. She looks back and forth between the two of us, then to Hazel, before she says, "I guess if you stick around long enough, you'll figure it out."

"Can't wait," I say.

"If I allow it," Declan says. His tone sends chills down my spine—something about it sounds like he's making more of a threat than just sending me home. "Already breaking the rules, aren't you, Teagan?"

I don't answer; I don't even glance over my shoulder in his direction. I'm sure he's talking about Luca—again—but I didn't ask for that. I wonder if he saw him leaving the room or if one of the girls told their daddy on me. He crosses the room and sits beside me on the sofa. Still, I keep my eyes trained on a spot in front of me, refusing to look at him.

It's quiet—too quiet—until my own voice fills the space. I swallow the lump in my throat.

I recognize the video. It's a chapter I read last week from Let the Right One In , coming from Brady's phone.

"I actually find your voice oddly comforting," Brady says, leaning against Rhett who watches the phone from over his shoulder, as if they're both invested in the story.

"It's very velvety, isn't it?" Rhett agrees.

"Can we not listen to that?" I ask. My tone comes out flustered, bothered, and I immediately recognize my mistake.

"I don't know, I actually really liked the movie," Rhett says. "And we've watched a couple of episodes now—I'm invested."

"Same," Brady says.

"The book is nothing like the movie," I tell him. "But…fine. I'm just going to go lie back down, then."

I start to stand, but a hand closes around my shoulder and forces me back down onto the seat. "I've got a better idea," Declan says.

He grabs a television remote from the table in front of us and fucks around with it until a browser pops up on the screen, and I realize exactly what he's doing.

No.

I watch him type my handle into the search engine and then lower my head, grit my teeth, and breathe through the rage.

"We've still got a couple of hours left in this drive. Why don't we let Teagan read us a story? Rhett, Brady—you guys don't mind if we go back to Chapter One, do you?"

They both shake their heads.

"Not at all," Rhett says.

I cross my arms and lean back in the seat. "Awesome," I say, still refusing to look at him.

Declan's mouth twists into that thing again—the thing that would look like a smile on anyone else—before he pushes play on the video and turns up the volume.

Four-eyed fucker.

I listen to myself introduce the story, feeling my face flush when they laugh at the innuendos. I dig my nails into my arms and wonder for the second time how I got here. I know why I wanted to be here; that isn't what I mean. But there is only one way onto this bus that I know of, and not only am I not sleeping with any of them, I'm not allowed to talk to one of them, and another one hates me.

So, why the fuck am I here?

Does he…know? Oh shit.

But no…this is fine. Even if he does know about my true crime podcast and obsession, who is to say he would connect that to my interest in the band? Neither the police nor the internet sleuth community have shown much interest in them or these girls at all. Maybe this is part of the process—maybe they do this to every new person who steps onto the bus. It could be some sort of hazing. He said something about wanting to see if I'd break. Maybe they all went through something similar with him.

And I can take it. I can . It's not like this is new to me. It's just that I'm an adult now, and I haven't had to in a very long time.

I lean toward River and whisper, "Is he always like this with new people?"

She shakes her head and gives me a sympathetic look. "No. Never. I'm sorry."

I sigh and turn away, staring at the space below the television screen.

"What's wrong, Teagan?" Declan asks. "This is what you want, right? Attention?"

"No."

"No? Then what is it that you want?"

I meet his eyes and surprise myself when an honest answer leaves my lips. "You wouldn't understand."

I cross my arms and slouch in my seat.

"Whoa, what's this?" Alana asks as she comes downstairs.

"Teagan is reading us a story," Declan says.

"Well, okay," she says. She shrugs, seemingly indifferent as she walks past me, then settles into Declan's lap.

It's going to be a very long three hours.