15

Rae

November 2nd, 2019

I wish he would have fucked me.

I wish he would have fucked my mouth, my cunt, my ass. Bit me, cut me, slapped me until I couldn’t remember anything but the way he felt.

But I suppose the ‘J’ he carved into my chest was enough for now.

Something was wrong with me, it had to be. I didn’t care about what he said, what I vowed, and all I could think about was the fact that he would erase that piece of shit from this world.

It’s all I wanted now. It’s the only thing I could really truly think about other than his fingers inside of me, was the fact that right now, somewhere in this city, Max was breathing his last breath of free air.

This was the thrill I wanted, right? Living every day unsure if my heart would continue beating the next? It was perfect. Perfect for a self-destructive, thrill seeker. Perfect for the slut who got off on her half-brother finger-fucking her—

I sank my nails into my thigh. Shit. I shuddered violently and shook the thoughts away, trying to erase his touch from my skin.

I felt relieved and angry at the same time. Angry at the world, at mom, at Max. Relieved because some sick part of me loved the fact that Jack had claimed me.

Whatever their ‘laws’ were, I was now his.

But fuck, I couldn’t let go of the anger or the shame.

“It’s a natural reaction.”

Was it? Was that what it was? Because if getting off on something I swear to God I didn’t want didn’t seem fucking natural to me.

“Rae?”

I looked up, wincing as the pain shot up my spine and across my shoulders.

Malachi was watching me with clear blue eyes, calm, patient. I couldn’t get a read on the guy. He seemed good, genuinely nice, but then there were glimpses of him that scared the holy Hell out of me. My gut kept twisting and untwisting and I didn’t know if it was trying to tell me something about him or it was trying to get rid of the bullshit living within me now that Max got what he wanted.

Jack worked for him. Malachi produced a man like him, so wouldn’t that mean that Malachi had to be worse?

Maybe it was just easier for him to hide it. Hide whatever darkness he had injected his sons with. Hide behind shining eyes and a loving smile. What better way to get what you wanted than convincing people you were good?

“Did you hear me?”

Guilt filled me. “No, I’m sorry.” I pulled my nails from my leg and smoothed out my jeans. I wondered if I would have accidentally made myself bleed from that. I was glad I didn’t. I needed to get over it, I was stronger than this.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve had a long day.”

He hadn’t yet mentioned the bloody ‘J’ that left trails of red cutting across my chest. I suppose he must be used to things like that. And while part of me wanted to hide it, the other part of me wanted to flaunt it. I was owned by a group of incredibly dangerous people. People who could make people disappear, and while I didn’t understand the depth of the danger I had just subjected myself to, I did understand that nobody could touch me now.

If they did, they were at Jack Ashrin’s mercy.

I nodded, turning to the window. It was cloudy today, winter was closing in. All I wanted was for Fall to last forever. “What is her name?” I asked quietly. Focus, it was the only thing that would keep my mind from lingering.

They knew her. They had to have known her if Abernath sent them.

“Marla Alascer.”

Obviously, they would know her by that name. Alascer. Her real name. It made me feel embarrassed to be sitting here. Bennett was the fake name. My fake name. A name she had made up to do whatever it was she needed to do and then leave to go live her real life.

“I need you to be truthful with us, Rae,” Malachi stated, his voice shifting into something cold. “You don’t have a choice in the matter now. What was your mother?”

I frowned, turning back to him. “An art dealer,” I stated. “Did you kill her?” I was the one on trial? Fuck that. I wouldn’t be on trial for something I had no part in.

His eyes searched mine. “No. What is your name?”

I ground my teeth together. “Rae Bennett. Did they?” I asked, jutting my chin towards Jack.

“No. Where were you born?”

“Here, in L.A. Would you tell me if you did kill her?”

“Marla and I were friends,” he confessed.

I scoffed. Friends? If they were friends, I didn’t know my mother at all. Not even in the slightest. My mom was an art dealer. She didn’t have anything to do with this life, she couldn’t. Could she?

“That’s your choice whether or not you believe us, just know that when we were given your name, we had no idea who you were.”

My brows furrowed at that, my eyes flicking to Jack’s and back. “Given my name?”

He nodded curtly. “The purpose of my sons is to carry out the assignments I can’t, with that being said we have never been hired to do anything. One morning, I woke up to a surprise. There was an envelope left on my doorstep with your name on it, the money already wired. They wanted us to kill you, that’s why Jack is here,” he explained, causing my heart to stutter. “The reason you’re still alive is because your past doesn’t make sense. He was curious.”

Fear spread across my skin like hot honey. I was only alive because Jack got curious? What in the actual fuck? “What about it doesn’t make sense?” I asked, my voice wavering.

“None of it,” he answered evenly. “Your past doesn’t make sense. From where you were born to your half-brother to the fact that your mother was labeled as ‘dead’ when there is no body or evidence of foul play besides a single pool of blood they never tested.”

I released a breath of disbelief. They didn’t fucking test it? I hadn’t gotten that far in the paperwork. I assumed with how sure they sounded about it that they had tested it. What the fuck kind of shotty police work was that? “What the fuck do you mean?”

“Marla never had another kid,” Jack explained. “You were it, Charlotte Alascer. Other than that, your life is too clean, too identical to your mother’s.”

A ringing started in my ears as I straightened, wincing from the pain. I…I was…No. No, they were talking too fast. They were talking…“What the fuck does that mean?” I breathed out, my hands shaking.

“You are your mother’s only child,” he stated.

My breathing picked up, my heart was beating far too fast. “I don’t fucking understand.” No. No, this happened in movies, not in real life. Things like this didn’t happen in real life. I was Rae Bennett. I was Rae fucking Bennett.

Malachi angled his head. “You curse a lot when you’re stressed. Marla had the same habit.”

I rubbed my face and stood, turning to the window, trying to work through the pain in my back as I wrapped an arm around my stomach, my thumbnail finding my teeth. I chewed. A terrible habit, but I couldn’t break it.

I closed my eyes and thought through the information, trying to catalog it like Donna had taught me. The only way to solve the problem is to remain calm, organize it into pieces. A puzzle couldn’t be put together if half the pieces were upside down and soaked in gasoline.

I wasn’t Max’s sister, that was something. A really good something.

I used that as a stepping-stone into organization as I sorted through the other information.

When my breathing finally returned to normal, I turned back to them, dropping my hands to my side, trying my best to hold onto the woman I had been at the masquerade. Calm, cool, collected. “You know of her?”

“I knew her,” Malachi corrected. “Marla and I were friends. She spoke of you often.”

Spoke of me often? So, what? She didn’t have a second family, just a second life? Where she had named me Charlotte and talked about me to dangerous people? What the fuck? “She was an art dealer, what was she doing getting involved with you and some rapist?”

His eyes narrowed. “I fear I don’t understand where your thought process has gone.”

God, I loved the way he spoke. Clear, concise. It was refreshing. “Gregory VanHouten,” I replied, glancing towards the pantry and back. “He wrote a letter. They were going to meet in central London to make a deal. That’s what led me to Oliver Abernath.”

Jack stood and headed for the pantry as Malachi thought through this information.

I watched after Jack, studying the way he walked, the way his ass looked in those jeans. What was happening? I didn’t understand what exactly was happening. I was Rae Bennett. Rae. Not Charlotte.

“The world knows Marla Bennett,” I rationalized, turning back to Malachi. “Everyone knows her, they know me, how could she live another entire life while juggling this one? Which was the lie?”

His eyes darkened at my questioning. “Bennett was. That’s why we’re here, Rae. It’s too clean. All of it. Marla was good in setting up these identities for you both. In setting up lives for you both to fall back on in case something went wrong. She was so good even I didn’t know about them.”

My eyes widened, the panic growing once again. “Went wrong?” I breathed out. “My name is Rae Bennett. My mom was Marla Bennett,” I stressed. “You’re not making any sense. I lived my life. I lived it. I was present, I don’t understand what you mean by identities, this is me.”

“Where did those scars come from, Rae?” Malachi asked instead.

I looked down, holding out my arms, taking in the lines I had scattered across my arms. I had more all over my body. Different shapes and sizes.

“Kids,” I said desperately as Jack set the box of files on the table. “Kids get scars all the time and never remember where they came from.”

“You don’t remember even one story?”

“You’re not making sense!” I shouted, wincing when the force of the shouting caused pain to shoot down my back. “You’re not…I am Rae Bennett. I swear to God, that’s who I am. Call Donna. Call Viv. Call anyone. I swear they will tell you the same thing.”

“Donna doesn’t exist, Rae,” Malachi revealed.

I felt the whole world tilt on its axis, spots dancing in front of my eyes.

“Viv isn’t who you think she is. Everyone else you remember from your life was either paid off or dead,” he continued, his voice distant. “Whoever did this was doing quite well until they hired me. That was their first mistake.”

I grabbed my stomach as it twisted.

Jack appeared beside me out of nowhere. He was holding a glass of water. “Drink,” he ordered, placing it in my hand.

What the fuck was happening? What were they saying? I was Rae Bennett. My mother died eight months ago, murdered by some random person who the police never caught. She was an art dealer.

I was Rae Bennett.

Jack forced me to lift my hand. “Drink,” he demanded.

I gulped the water down. I was Rae.

Jack took the glass from my hand and set it down.

I was Rae. I wasn’t Charlotte. I was Rae. My mom was Marla Bennett.

The world started to go hazy as my mind slowed, a fog pushing in around the edges of my thoughts.

I was Rae.

My legs gave out, Jack catching me with ease.

My name was Rae Bennett.

He swung me up in his arms as the world started to fade to black.

I was Rae Ben…

November 4th, 2019

I blinked a few times, my body heavy, my mind sluggish, my tongue as dry as cotton.

I groaned, lifting a hand to my head as I rolled onto my back. What the fuck? It felt like I had been hit with a truck.

I let my hand fall with a thump to the bed as I forced my eyes open, the world dark.

No, not the world, my room.

I blinked again, trying to get the sleep out of my eyes. What happened? The last thing I remembered was talking to Malachi.

My head rolled to the side, finding my phone just out of reach. It had been dinner. We had been talking about…

My eyes widened and I shot up.

It was a mistake.

The world tilted around me, and my head dropped to my hands. “Fuck,” I moaned.

When my head stopped spinning, I forced myself to look up, finding my room dark, the curtains drawn. I slowly pushed my legs over the side of the bed and looked around. Jack had given me a glass of water and then…

My eyes lifted to the door. Had he drugged me?

Was I drugged?

What the fuck!

I reached for my phone, just on the far edge of my nightstand and unlocked it, finding a text from ‘unknown’ on my phone.

Unknown: Yes, I drugged you.

Left on assignment,

If you do anything stupid, you’ll get

what you earn.

I frowned.

I didn’t bother saving the number as I stood and tested out my legs. I felt groggy. I needed coffee and a good horror movie. Some time to recover before I faced everything they had said.

I carefully made my way out to the living area when another message dinged.

Unknown: You should be awake by now.

If you don’t text me by the end of today

I’ll be forced to send someone up.

Don’t make me send someone up, Princess.

I sneered and checked the time, only to freeze when I saw the date.

November 4th! I was out for two days!

I pulled up the number, angry, my face heating up. He knocked me out for two full days? I know I didn’t have a job, but even so, two days was two days. That was a lot of time to sleep.

Rae: You knocked me out for two days?

You’re an absolute asshole!

Unknown: Good evening, Princess ??

I stared at that winky face, feeling unbelievable rage. That goddamn dick. How dare he drug me? How dare he leave me here, drugged and alone with Max having a key. Jack had said it himself that they couldn’t kill him yet. Which meant he was still alive, and I had been unconscious on the bed available for anyone to just…use.

What if Max had come by? What if someone had broken in?

With a snarl, I continued to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, ordered in some food, and headed for the television. I paused when I saw a note taped to the front of it.

I walked over and ripped it off, reading it quickly.

What it means to be claimed:

You are safe from everyone but me.

I can use you however I want, whenever I want.

You don’t have to like it, you’ll learn to.

You are protected. That is my job, to protect you, whatever the cost.

You’ve signed your life away to me, Princess. You are my pet, my slave, my toy. You are mine in every sense of the word. Accept it. If you don’t, that’s on you not on me. Your willingness changes nothing.

I frowned, but there was a part of me that fluttered at the thought.

I was safe from all but him. So, maybe Max wouldn’t have been able to get in. Maybe there were precautions keeping anyone from being able to break in. Maybe, no matter what happened, I was safe from everyone but Jack Ashrin.

I didn’t know how much that promise meant with him being away, but it did bring some sort of comfort, even if I couldn’t look at that bookshelf at the moment.

I had just gotten into the rhythm of scrolling through the trash movies when my phone dinged again.

With a huff, I lifted it.

Unknown: Drink some water

I rolled my eyes and tossed the phone to the other side of the couch. If he was on ‘assignment’ how did he have the time to text me?

I paused and looked down, realizing I was wearing different clothes than I had been when I got out of the shower on the 2nd. In fact, the blood had been cleaned from my chest and my back didn’t hurt as badly as it had before.

I stared at the clothes I was wearing before lunging for the phone and texting him again.

Rae: Did you bathe me?

Unknown: And changed your sheets when you

made a mess. I also injected you with powerful

painkillers. Your back should be just

about healed by now.

Unknown: You’re welcome

I gaped, my face blazing bright red as I slid my hand over my stomach, concentrating on my bladder. No. Oh my God. No!

Unknown: Don’t be embarrassed, Princess,

it’s happened to the best of us

I slapped my hands over my face, curling over my knees, the humiliation overwhelming. This couldn’t be happening. He changed my bedsheets as if I were a child? God, that was so humiliating.

My phone dinged again, and I didn’t even read it, I couldn’t. All I could do was send out one last text before I put my phone on silent.

Rae: Just leave me alone for a bit

I tossed my phone across the floor and shoved myself to a stand. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

Any of it.

Jack.

Malachi.

My mother.

Max.

I felt like I was going to get sick. Like I would never eat again.

I made myself a cup of coffee and headed back for the couch. It didn’t take long, however, until I was forcing myself up, grabbing my phone, and falling back onto the couch. I was grateful that he had fixed my back, but everything else? How could you change out someone’s piss-sheets and not change your mind about them?

I suppose he was still texting me, but even so, I needed some time to come to terms with the fact that the man who fucked me into a short coma had now wiped my ass and washed my piss-covered sheets.

Jack had already texted me back, but rather than reading it, I pulled up Viv’s number.

“Viv isn’t who you think she is.”

Then who was she? They said my life wasn’t mine, so who’s was it? If it was made up, then why? What happened? Why couldn’t I remember anything?

My eyes fell to one of the long scars that spanned the length of my forearm. I studied it carefully. I had never once questioned where they had come from, why would I? All kids get scars. All of them. They weren’t expected to remember where they had gotten them.

But even when I pushed, trying to remember something. A bike crash, a car accident, falling out of a tree, there was nothing.

I rubbed my eyes fiercely and slammed my phone down on the table. What the fuck was happening to me?

So, if Donna wasn’t real, if Viv wasn’t who I thought she was, if Bennett wasn’t even my real name, then who the fuck was I?

Why did I know three different languages? Why were the Bennett’s known among the elite? Where did all of this money come from? All of the money I got when she died.

A death that could never truly be solved because there was no body or evidence of any kind.

Did my mom even die or was she out there somewhere doing some sketchy shit? Malachi seemed to think that was the case, why wouldn’t it be? She could be alive.

My heart stuttered at that, and I immediately pressed play on whatever my button was on. I turned the volume up until all I could hear was the movie. No. I didn’t want to deal with this. I didn’t want to think about it. My life was my own. This was my life. Horror movies and research and coffees and social media. It was shallow, I know, but what 26-year-old had their life together at this point?

None that I knew of. We were all just floundering children in adult bodies, fucking and hobbying our way through our life until something started making sense.

So, I would drown in my hobby. Jack was gone, he couldn’t do anything about what I was doing, so I was going to drink coffee, eat an unhealthy amount of take-out, maybe find a party to go to and get so fucking high I couldn’t remember my name.

Either of them.

I was Rae Bennett, but for now I wanted to be just another face. Another woman getting too high, getting too drunk, maybe getting too friendly. I wanted to get lost in bad decisions just to drown out everything, and so that’s what I would do. Goodbye far too many questions, hello partying, drinking, and smoking out all of my issues.

November 7th, 2019

There was a party happening tonight at Port Capleon and I was going.

I had to go.

I needed to get out of the house, get fucked up on whatever I could, and maybe find some guy who would give me enough attention to make me forget everything else.

Self-destruction was an important part of growing up. The generation above mine had mid-life crises’ that led them to buying sports cars and hair pieces, this was my mid-life crises. Self-destruction at its finest.

My phone had died two days ago, so I plugged it in while I got ready, only to return to it and find dozens of missed calls from Max, along with dozens of messages from him too.

Jack had only texted me once after I discarded my phone. It was probably a threat, but I didn’t allow myself to read it or any of the messages sent by Max.

I was angry at him. Not because he was gone, but because of what led up to him leaving. He claimed me in some psychotic ritual, told me my name wasn’t Rae Bennett, drugged me, and then disappeared for three days.

Fuck him for doing that.

Fuck Max for lying to me and then finger-fucking me.

Fuck mom for whatever she had done to make me forget everything that ever happened to me.

I wasn’t dealing with it. Any of it. I didn’t want to face any of it right now, all I wanted to do was forget.

The more I thought about that day, the angrier I became, so the only solution I had was not thinking about anything at all.

I pulled on a pair of tight, dark-blue jeans, a black belt, a dark rose colored halter top, and a black zip-up hoodie. Once I started dancing, I was going to get hot, so I needed something to easily strip off during my inebriated state.

I called a cab, made sure I had my phone, keys, and plenty of cash in my over-the-shoulder purse before I finally headed out the door well past 10.

The cabbie pulled up to the entrance of the port a half an hour later. I gave him some money and walked through the dark shipping yard, searching for the container marked ‘7B83’.

The place was eerie. Dark and deserted, not a sound to be heard until I got close enough to the containers to finally hear the music.

The parties here always took place in multiple containers, each one holding a different ambiance. It was up to the partygoers to decide where they wanted to be or if they wanted to jump around a bit before settling.

7B83 was the main container. The one to the left was more techno. The one to the right was darker themed. There was one filled with pop music, disco, the sex-dungeon, and finally the one you found when you needed any kind of fix. From alcohol to drugs and everything in between.

I paid for some Molly and a few joints before downing a few glasses of alcohol and heading to the main container.

Hours passed.

I lost my sweater within minutes of arriving. I smoked four joints, drank a few more glasses of vodka before finally, later on in the night, taking that Molly.

This is what I needed. No thoughts, no feelings, just this. Just drugs, alcohol, and some good music.

Probably good. I had honestly stopped listening to anything but the beat after hour three, drink eight, and joint number 5.

Fuck it was so inherently sexual the way the music slithered over my skin, the notes floating through the air, entering through every orifice of my body in such an intimate way.

I wanted to fuck the music. Grind my cunt against the notes until I came from the beat of the base.

I wanted to fuck something. Anything. God, I felt like I could go home and fuck my toys for hours, but I needed something more than that. I needed a living, breathing toy. I needed someone to move under me as I grinded against their cock. To pin my hips down, to grunt and groan and lose control as I rode them into sweet, blissful oblivion.

It wasn’t long before I found myself outside, unsure of how I got there, wandering the shipping containers in a daze, my pussy aching for any kind of contact. Everything felt so good. The way my clothes touched my skin, the way the freezing air teased my hardened nipples.

God, I wanted to fuck. I needed to fuck. I was going to suffocate if I didn’t find someone to fuck.

“You are in so much trouble,” Jack snarled in my ear, immediately causing my pussy to throb.

I didn’t remember calling him, but Hell, who was I to deny myself the chance at pushing him to the brink of losing his absolute shit?

I fell back against a container, the music now faded in the distance, my hair sticking to my damp skin as the chill did something to me, I couldn’t quite describe.

“Yeah?” I half-moaned as I closed my eyes. “How much trouble?” I pushed, sliding my hand over my chest, my stomach, electric shocks flittering through my body. God, I just wanted to be touched, to be fucked. Really and properly fucked. Like he had done in that maze. That’s what I wanted. I wanted him to wrap his hand around my throat and shove his cock so deep inside of me that I would never recover. I wanted to taste his cum, to lick his neck, to suck on his tongue.

“Are you on drugs?” he asked me, the rage in his voice only causing my thighs to clench.

“How much trouble?” I asked again. My heart was beating far too fast, my breathing labored. I felt like I could cum if he just talked to me in that voice. In that half-growl, raspy, desperate voice he used when he was balls deep in me.

“Rae, where are you? Tell me right now or—”

“Or what?” I asked, biting my lip, sliding my hand down my stomach, teasing the edge of my jeans. “You’ll punish me?”

“Yes,” he stated coldly. “I will fucking punish you.”

I shuddered, pressing my legs together tightly, feeling the seam of my jeans push against my soaked cunt. “How?”

“Last chance,” he warned.

I pouted. “Waiting for you. You’re no good at this.” I opened my eyes, staring at the shipping container across from me, the lights of the lamps far above me coating the world in a white flickering fluorescent hue. If he didn’t want to play, then maybe I just needed to try harder. “How come you fucked that girl in the bathroom at the club?”

He paused. “You remember that?”

I frowned. “I do now.”

He was quiet a moment. “Do you remember anything else?”

I sagged into the container, my pussy throbbing as the memory filled me. How he had looked taking her with such ease. Uncaring of who was watching. Uncaring of the lingering eyes. I remembered him watching that sucker as I slid it over my tongue. I remembered how my stomach had flipped when his eyes found mine and Viv’s warning to stay away on our way back to the dance floor.

“Anyone who wears a mask to a club is nothing but trouble.”

“It’s October, Viv, everyone wears costumes.”

“No, Rae, masks. People who wear masks. Stay away from him until you come back.”

How could I forget that? Forget him? It was a crime. “No,” I answered, pressing my lips into a thin line. “You fucked her right in front of me. Fucking dick.”

Something crackled through the phone, and I half wondered if it was the phone groaning in his grip. Fuck, I bet it loved that. “No, Princess, I took her into the bathroom and railed her from behind to lure her ex-husband there so I could put a bullet in his head. You stayed and watched. That was your choice, not mine.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, my skin in desperate need of friction. “Did she feel good?” I asked softly. “Did you like her?”

“Are you jealous?”

I frowned. I didn’t get jealous. That was before we were together, and I was beautiful. If he cheated on me, I’d leave him, no matter their threats. According to them, I wasn’t even Rae Bennett, I could disappear. Leave the country. I would be fine.

But before I could offer up a retort, the sound of a skittering rock met my ears.

I looked over, finding a dark figure standing at the end of the shipping container, watching me from the shadows. I smiled, taking a step towards him. “You found me.”

“I have your location, Rae, but I’m not there yet.”

“I can see you though. You’re standing a few yards away.” I was sure it was him. Same height, same build. I frowned, taking another step towards him. “How did you get my location.”

“I put a tracking device on your phone, Princess. You’re mine, I will always know where you are. That is not me.”

The man stepped out of the shadows, confirming Jack’s claims. “Hey baby,” he said, pushing his hood back.

I glared at him. “Don’t call me that.”

His eyes roved over me, ignoring my request. “Damn. Rules are rules but look at you. He won’t mind me breaking a few, I’m sure of it.”

I stumbled back a step as he closed the distance between us. “Rules? What rules?”

“His rules.” He wrapped a hand around my wrist, jerking me towards him, causing me to cry out.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, the pain sharpening my mind for only a moment. “Jack.”

“Run,” he said. It wasn’t a shout, he didn’t even raise his voice. It was just a single word, a command.

“Jack can’t save you now, sweetheart,” the man hummed and shoved me against the shipping container.

My head rang, but that command was clear, the word running through me with a soul of its own.

I shoved him back with all that I was, giving me enough space to bring my foot up and slam it into his chest.

I didn’t wait to see how far back he had stumbled, I was already running. Sprinting through the shipping yard, using the shipping containers to keep me from falling.

“Make it sporadic,” he ordered. “Don’t look back.”

I knew that. I already knew that. I had been trained thoroughly enough.

Trained?

I shook my head, trying to gather my unsteady and chaotic thoughts. I hadn’t been trained in shit. Viv was right, maybe I should lay off my movies for a while.

Not even a minute later and I was already struggling to breathe. I needed to start running in the mornings, this was embarrassing.

Another minute or two and I couldn’t do it anymore. I was out of breath, suffocating, my mind spinning, the world tilting. Too much shit was in my system for the adrenaline to add anything useful.

I stumbled to a halt, catching myself on another container.

I looked back, unable to catch my breath.

“Rae, keep going.”

I fell back against it, my heart seconds from exploding. “I’m…gonna…die,” I panted, my mouth watering profusely, nearly choking me.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back to life and fuck you until your heart stops again. Keep running,” he growled.

It didn’t seem like such a horrible threat.

I swallowed the extra saliva and shook my head, the world spinning. “I…can’t.”

“If you can still talk, you can still run. Go.”

I leaned over, grabbing a knee, trying to force the breathing to slow. “Pathetic,” I panted.

“What?” he asked through his teeth.

“That you…claimed…me and you…didn’t even…fuck me… before I…died.”

“I’m fucking you no matter what state you’re in, Princess, that’s a promise. So, either keep running or give up. Make a choice.”

I sneered. I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at his number before I put it back. “That’s what you…do then? Malachi trains you…to fuck corpses?” Is that the only threat he had too? What happened when he faced someone he actually had to kill? Did he threaten to fuck them too? That couldn’t be right.

Maybe he was just pent up. I knew I was.

“Run!”

I straightened, glaring, my breathing finally slowing just a bit.

He growled when I didn’t respond. “No, I don’t fuck corpses, Rae.” He lowered his voice to a feral hum. “Now be a good girl for me and run before I treat you like the misbehaving bitch you are.”

Yeah, the Molly was still at work.

I glanced back towards the end I had come from, took a deep breath, and started running again.

My heart was hammering out of my chest, my lungs threatened to stop working all together. My mind spun with the high of the drugs and the fear.

It was thrilling.

This was thrilling.

And maybe it was just the drugs talking, because I understood that I was in real danger, but the part of me that was listening to Jack breathe in my ear, that part of me loved this.

He was coming for me. I believed that with everything I was. No matter what happened, I was safe from anyone and everyone in this world.

Even in the midst of danger, I was safe.

I turned another corner, pushing my lungs to the brink when I stopped short at the sight before me.

I ran up to the chain-link fence, grabbing it, on the verge of throwing up with every gasp of air. “Dead end,” I spit out. I couldn’t get enough oxygen. Why did people run for fun? That was such bullshit. They were either crazy or from another planet because this was physically painful.

“I’m almost there.”

There was nowhere to hide. I was out in the open, back against a fence, but what were the chances that he was still following me?

He had to have been wasted too, right? There were so many other willing girls out here. He wouldn’t waste the time coming after me, right?

At the sound of gravel against the pavement, my hopes vanished.

I turned to the fence, pushing on it. It had some give. Too old to hold me though, even if I did have the upper body strength to force myself up the nine feet to the top.

“Fuck,” I whined, my panic growing. I looked around in a panic and froze. There. I could fit between the container and the fence. Great, let’s do that.

I jogged over on shaking legs and shoved the fence back as far as it would allow. Tight squeeze, but it would work well enough.

I slid my arms down to my sides and started inching my way in, shushing the fence when it creaked or groaned.

When I managed to get my entire body shoved into the cramped space, I finally stopped, willing my breathing to slow, which only made my stomach twist and the drool worse.

I needed water.

Leaning my head back against the fence, I looked up towards the starless sky, tears dripping down from the corners of my eyes. I would be fine.

I would be okay.

This wasn’t how it ended. Not here, not by some drunk asshole at a party. I had so much more to do, so many things to accomplish. I was only 26, it couldn’t end today.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. Viv would get a kick out of this though. She would laugh at me, after her initial panic and freak out, that was. She would laugh and mock me for being so scared after all of my big talk about not being afraid of anything. But this was different. Especially after Max.

God, did this make me a hypocrite? Just a couple of weeks ago I was being hunted by another man at a carnival, and I let that man fuck me.

This had to be karma.

I opened my eyes, exhaustion sweeping over me as my breathing finally evened out, my heart slowing. But I couldn’t tell Viv about this. I wasn’t even sure if I was ever going to talk to her again. Believing Malachi over my own memories? That sounded ridiculous.

I shifted on my feet a few minutes later, my body cramping, my free hand flexing. It felt like hours since I had called Jack. I glanced down at my phone. It was too tight a space to lift it and check to see if he was even still there. He probably was, giving me a lecture on how I shouldn’t have lowered my phone in a situation like this, but it was too tight a squeeze. I never would have fit with my arm up like that.

How long should I stay here though? I was starting to cramp and despite the fact that I was still riding a high, I didn’t want to take the chance of passing out standing up—

A hand wrapped around my throat and ripped me from my hiding spot, pain shooting across my body where the fence pulled at my fingers, my clothes.

A scream ripped from me as the man slammed me up against the container and slammed a hand over my mouth and nose, effectively cutting off my air and blood supply.

My eyes widened, the panic subsiding only a little when Jack’s dark blue eyes glared back at me, tears of relief filling my eyes.

“Princess.”

It was the first time I was able to see him without a single thing on his face. No mask, no paint, just Jack.

He was beautiful.

His eyes fell down my body slowly and roved back up. When they met mine again, they were unforgiving to a point that I would have flinched if I could have.

His grip tightened around my throat, sending sparks of warning ringing through my brain.

He was going to suffocate me.

I dropped my phone and wrapped my hands around each of his wrists, pulling on them as the tears spilled over. Why was I being punished? Some guy had been after me. I shouldn’t be in trouble right now.

“I appreciate how much effort you put into yourself,” he said, uncaring of the way my nails dug into his skin, “but I can’t have others looking at my property.”

My eyes rolled back as my thighs clenched together, the high still running through my system. I was safe from death but not from Jack, and I loved that.

I needed him. I needed him desperately. Preferably before I passed out, but if he wanted me after that was fine too.

But all too soon, he stepped away from me, removing his hand from my face, the other staying around my throat.

I inhaled sharply, coughing painfully against his grip. “The man?” I asked hoarsely.

He leaned in until his hot breath grazed the shell of my ear. “I gutted him,” he stated.

Fear dripped down my spine, my panties so wet, I feared stepping away from the shipping container. I bit my lip, sliding my hands over my thighs, a shiver falling across my skin, my pussy throbbing. Fuck. I needed him. I needed him inside of me. I needed to feel his cock throbbing in my cunt, hear his desperate moans. I needed him so badly it hurt.

He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, my lips parting, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. “What have you taken?”

My body melted into the container, eyes falling to his lips, watching the way they moved, remembering how they had felt against my skin. “Six joints, Molly,” I practically moaned.

He angled his head. “Alcohol.”

“Eight shots.”

He seemed to be considering my answers, making a tally, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just wanted him inside of me.

Jack suddenly leaned in, my heart stuttering, only for him to stop less than an inch from my lips.

I groaned, trying to move closer, his hand pinning me to the container.

“Get to the bike, Princess,” he mumbled, pulling a whimper from my lips. “Now.”