Chapter 6

Everlee

Isit with my knees drawn to my chest and both arms wrapped around my legs. I'm not sure how much time has passed, but it's been at least a couple hours since Wild Man got done with me. I can still taste him, despite having rinsed my mouth with water.

I eye the opening of the bed area, where Wild Man threw the cloth I was using earlier.

Once I had sucked his finger to his satisfaction, he pulled it from my mouth and slipped it into his. The whole time he watched me, and I know he was analyzing my reaction, which I find strange. Why would he care how I felt about what he was doing when he didn't care he was hurting me while he was raping me?

I made sure to keep my expression vacant. Afterward, I was forced back several feet when he got up from the log. I was grateful our time was over and reached for the cloth that had been yanked from me.

However, before I could even put it around my shoulders, it was again pulled from my hands. He stalked to the bed area and threw it inside. I shot him a glare and got a glower in return. Since then, I've been sitting on a piece of burlap trying to come up with an escape plan. So far, I've come up with a whole damn lot of nothing. At the moment, the only chance I have is my family. As I promised Dad I would, each night before I went to bed I called him.

Until last night.

I have no doubt Dad and my brothers are already out looking for me. The only problem is, they're looking in the wrong place.

The last time I spoke with him, I told him I was in the northern part of the Black Ridge National Forest. And at the time, I was, and had been since I started this venture. But yesterday morning, I decided to go in a different direction since the area I was in hadn't shown any signs of Wild Man. I'm in the most southern part. I was going to call Dad last night and tell him of the new location, but never got the chance. So, even though my family is looking for me, they're nearly seventy miles away searching in an area I'm nowhere near.

Black Ridge is seventy square miles, expanding between two states. It could take them months of searching before they find me.

I could kick myself for making the sudden change to my plans without telling someone. If I make it out of here, Dad and my brothers will never let me live it down. I'll be lucky if they even let me leave the house again.

And poor Rika. I know she must be worried just as much.

I tighten my arms around my legs, feeling the friction of the rope rub against my ribs. The other end is tied to a tree. Like I'm a fucking dog.

Wild Man sits on the same log he was before. He's sharpening the end of a stick with a wicked looking knife, bringing the end to a point. Probably to stab unsuspecting animals for dinner.

My mind whirls with ways to get my hands on the knife. Even the stick will do. I just need something I can use against him.

I let my gaze drift over the man. His blue-black hair is long and thick enough to make most women envious. It hangs halfway down his back in soft waves with a few strands falling over his shoulders. His beard is thick and full, but not long. His face is narrow with a straight nose, high cheekbones, and full lips so red it almost looks like he's wearing lipstick. His tanned shoulders are broad, his biceps thick with defined muscles, and his torso is stacked with dips and valleys before it leads down to a tapered waist. The V just above the cloth is deeply pronounced.

From the outside, the man appears to be in excellent condition.

It's his mental state that's questionable.

His head lifts, and for the first time since I sat my ass on this burlap sack, he looks at me.

I really wish he wouldn't. The man has creepy, but fascinating eyes that easily capture and holds a person's attention. Like right now. I'm an unwilling captive caught in his ominous dark stare, helpless to look away.

"You can't keep me here forever."

He says nothing, not that I expected him to. He pulls his eyes away from mine to look back down at his stick and knife.

"My father and brothers are looking for me."

Nothing. Not even an eye twitch.

"This is wrong, Wild Man," I continue, trying to get through to him. "What you're doing is illegal. It's called kidnapping and you could get in a lot of trouble."

I closely watch his face for any signs that he understands what I'm saying. I get nothing. Frustration wells and has my hands curling around my legs, my nails digging into my skin.

"They've probably already called the police, which means they'll be looking for me too."

He continues chiseling away at the stick.

"You've got to let me go," I say, desperation raising my voice. "They'll hurt you if my family finds me here."

Strangely, the thought of Wild Man being hurt isn't as appealing as it should be. As painful as what he's done to me is, the man is following his baser instincts. But it's going to happen if he doesn't let me go. It'll be a race to see who gets to him first. My family or the police. For a person like Wild Man, being put in a prison cell would be torture, but it would be the lesser of two evils. At least if he's incarcerated, he'd be alive. If my father and brothers find him first, I can't guarantee that outcome. My family is capable of anything when it comes to protecting their own.

I continue to try to get him to understand the severity of the situation he's put himself in.

"When my family finds me, they're going to be angry." I blow out an aggravated puff of air. "They'll hurt you and take me far away from you."

That last part gets a reaction. One that has fear slithering through my bloodstream and wishing I could take the words back.

In the blink of an eye, Wild Man is up from the log and is looming over me, his feet planted apart and a vicious look on his face. He reaches down, wraps his long fingers around my throat and hauls me up from my seated position. He brings my face so close to his there's only an inch of space separating us, and the tips of my toes barely touch the ground. His grip is tighter than all the other times he's held me like this. Panic sets in, and I start clawing at his hand, desperate to draw in air.

My feeble attempts at fighting don't phase him in the slightest as he continues to glare down at me.

Just as my vision starts to blur, he loosens his hold just enough for me to suck in a lungful of air.

"Mine!" he snarls in my face. He lifts his other hand, his fingers balled into a fist. I flinch and try to move away, worried that fist is meant for me. But then he surprises me when he slams it against his chest hard and repeats in a harsh tone, "Mine. You stay. I kill family."

My eyes widen. I'm not sure what I'm more shocked about. The fact that he spoke more than one word, or that he wants to kill my family. All because they may find me and take me away from him.

"No!" I croak, barely able to draw enough air to say the word.

Using his grip around my neck, Wild Man brings me closer. Our noses brush against each other.

"Kill family. My Ever."

Holy motherfucking hell.

MyEver.

I have got to get away from this crazy-ass man. Before my family finds me. Because as deranged as it is, I still don't want my father or brothers to hurt him. Or the police to find him. If Wild Man isn't insane yet, he certainly will be if he's locked up in prison.

And what's worse, I know deep down to the very depth of my soul, this man won't ever willingly let me go.

I try once again to knee him between his legs. I need him incapacitated long enough to get free of the rope and to run away. If I get a head start, maybe I can hide. I know I can't outrun him. His feet may be used to the forest floor, but mine aren't. I'll need to hide somewhere long enough for him to get tired of searching for me.

As if he can read my mind, his hips jerk to the side just as I swiftly lift my knee. He catches the underside of my leg and hooks it over his hip. I freeze, my breath stuttering, when I feel the ridge of his shaft against my bare pussy. The thin cloth he has covering himself is the only thing separating his bareness from mine.

Planting my hands on his hard chest, I try to shove myself away and pull my leg from his hip. His reaction is to tighten his hand around my throat and to pull my bottom half firmer against him. He's hard. Like brick fucking hard.

I tense, preparing to fight him more if he tries to put that huge thing inside me again.

A girl can only take so much. Being taken by him three times already was three times too many.

I'm roughly pulled closer, which makes my hands useless between us. There's no way I can overpower him, no matter how much I tell myself that I'll fight him tooth and nail and this time I'll manage to stop him from raping me.

A moment later, he lets me go. My jaw slackens, my mouth dropping open, as I'm suddenly back on my ass on the burlap sack and Wild Man is stalking away from me. After stopping and grabbing the knife and spear he was working on, he leaves through the leafy opening, disappearing out of sight.

What the hell?I silently ask myself. He was hard. Not that I'm complaining, but I thought for sure he would have another go at me.

I don't waste time thinking on the reason why he abruptly left and instead focus on getting the fuck out of this place. The first thing I need to do is get this godforsaken rope off me. Then find something I can use as a weapon.

I pluck up the rope and stare down at the knot. I've learned from my dad and brothers several different knot styles. But this one is unfamiliar and looks complicated as hell. It only takes me a couple of moments of struggling with the intricate tightly woven knot to realize I don't have enough time to figure it out. I walk to where the other end is tied, only to find the same style knot.

Okay, time to move on and look for something to cut the rope with. Ten minutes later, I let out a growl of hopeless frustration. There's not one damn thing I can use that's sharp enough. Even the spears I spotted earlier are gone. Either Wild Man has nothing of use or he's anticipated me looking and has hidden everything. There's no sign of my backpack, gun, or taser either.

My stomach cramps, and I wrap my arm around my lower torso. So far, I've managed to ignore my full bladder, but it's getting increasingly hard to continue to do so. Growing up with men who love the outdoors and camping, peeing outside is nothing new to me. What I have an issue with is doing it not knowing where Wild Man is or when he'll return.

And anyway, I don't have time to search for a spot to relieve myself. I need to spend this time looking for a way to escape before he comes back.

I drag the rope behind me as I make my way back to the small opening where the bed is. I've already searched the area, but it wouldn't hurt to take a closer look. Maybe I missed something.

My eyes immediately go to the two skulls sitting on either side of the bed, and a shiver of revulsion skates through me. I walk to the pile of blankets and pick them up, giving them a firm shake before tossing them to the side. It jostles one of the skulls and it rolls to the side. I ignore it and grab the sheet I used earlier to cover myself. I wrap the material around my torso twice and tuck the extra in itself to secure it as best as I can.

I start walking along the edges of the makeshift walls, kicking shit out of my way as I search the ground. I wince when the tip of my big toe encounters something hard. Squatting, I brush away leaves and twigs and find a metal rod about two feet long. It's hollow, is only about a quarter inch in diameter, and looks like it might be part of a frame from a tent.

Picking it up, I stand and continue looking in case I find something better. A few minutes later, when I don't find anything else, I come to the conclusion that the rod will have to be my weapon. It's not the best choice, but it'll have to do.

With determined steps, I leave the sleeping area, ignoring the painful spasm in my bladder. I go back to my burlap sack and get to my knees, resting my butt on my heels. I set the rod beside me, making sure to keep it hidden under some brush, and point my eyes in the direction of where Wild Man left.

I don't have to wait long before he's stomping back through the opening. I hold my breath, forcing myself to wait instead of immediately attacking him. I need to time this perfectly.

He stops just inside the entrance and looks at me. His eyes slide to the sheet I have wrapped around my chest, and his lip curls up like the material is the most disgusting thing he's ever seen. I brace, curling my fingers around the rod, when he starts in my direction. I wait until he's only a foot away and is reaching down to grab my arm. I spring up to my feet, taking the piece of metal with me. I lift my arm, ready to take a swing at him. I aim it for the side of his head. I don't want to do permanent damage. Just enough to knock him out for a while to give myself a head start.

I scream out in rage when the stupid fucking man catches the rod before I can connect it with his head. He yanks it from my hand and throws it to the side, where it lands somewhere with a soft thump.

Beyond furious, I screech and start lashing out with my hands, raking my nails down his chest. The sheet falls from around me, but I can't give any shits at the moment. All I care about right now is getting away from this madman.

Finally, I manage to land a fist in his stomach and he lets out a grunt. My victory only lasts for a couple of seconds before I'm spun around and Wild Man has his arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my side. He squeezes my torso, and the air in my lungs whoosh out. My bladder protests violently and a new worry develops. It would serve the asshole right if I peed on him.

His hard dick, still separated by the cloth, wedges itself between my asscheeks. My hair is grabbed and my head is yanked back so far it's a wonder he hasn't snapped my neck. Out the corner of my eye, I see his harsh stare boring into the side of my face. I shoot my gaze sideways, glaring back at him with all the hatred I feel toward him right now. If looks could kill, he'd be dead on the ground, sightlessly staring up at the dense canopy of trees above us.

"Stop!" he growls the word, once again reminding me he can speak. He just chooses not to.

"Then let me go," I spew back at him.

"Never. Mine."

I dig my nails into the flesh of the arm he has wrapped tightly around me. "I'm only yours until I find a way to escape. Or until my family finds me. And when they do, you're dead."

My father has always told me that my mouth was going to get me in trouble one day. That I need to learn to think before I speak. I've never taken his warning seriously. I should have.

My head is pulled to the side, and I let out a shriek of pain when Wild Man sinks his teeth into the side of my neck. I don't know if he broke the skin, but it damn sure feels like it. My nails dig deeper until I break the skin, the warm trickle of blood meeting my fingertips.

Wild Man grunts against my neck as he continues to bite and suck on my skin, making the pain sharper.

I wiggle, trying to break his hold on me, but it only manages to wedge his dick deeper into the crack of my ass. My body stiffens when I feel the head grazing my puckered hole. I suck in a breath and hold it, hoping by some miracle he doesn't get any ideas. There's no way in hell I can fit that thing in my ass. It would tear me beyond repair.

I somewhat relax when my feet hit the ground and Wild Man lets me go. I stumble forward a step and whip around. Wild Man stands there, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breaths and his hands balled into fists at his sides. Satisfaction soothes some of my anger when I see the scratches on his chest. His eyes bore into me, and I'm not sure if the dark look he's giving me is filled with desire or anger. Maybe a bit of both.

Before I can stop them, my eyes dart down. From the way his dick is poking at the cloth, I would say desire is probably the dominant feeling, which does not bode well for me.

"I have to pee." I blurt the first thing that comes to mind, hoping to use it as a distraction.

His brows scrunch together, and at first he looks like he might be confused. The look quickly fades and his expression turns blank. His hand whips out and he grabs my wrist. He turns on his heel, and I'm practically dragged behind him as he takes me to the tree the rope is tied to. He unties the knot too fast for me to try to watch and learn. Once he's done, he grabs the rope and pulls me from his little hut. I'm so stunned that I don't even try to yank away from him. But I do have trouble keeping up with his long strides.

I'm just about to open my mouth to tell him to slow the hell down, when we come to a sudden stop. We're about a hundred feet away from the tree hut in a semi-clearing. We stop near a bush that has big leafy leaves.

He lets my hand go and points to the bush. I look from him to the bush before glancing back at him.

"What?"

"Pee."

I kinda figured that's what he was getting at.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Turn around."

He doesn't say anything. Just glares at me as he mirrors my stance by crossing his arms over his own chest.

My lips tighten. This is fucking ridiculous. Has the man ever heard of privacy?

I mentally snort at that thought. Of course he hasn't. He wouldn't know what the word meant if it slapped him in the face. He's had plenty of privacy himself, living out in the wilderness all alone, but only because no one comes out here.

If I didn't have to relieve my bladder so badly, I'd fight him on the issue, but I'm barely holding it in just standing here.

Shooting him a heated glare, I stomp over to where Wild Man indicated. I turn so he only has a side view of me. I damn sure don't plan to give him more of a view than he already has.

At least I don't have to worry about my stream getting on my clothes. I like to consider myself a half-glass full kind of girl.

My eyes fall closed at the instant relief.

They jerk open a fraction of a second later when I hear the trickle of more liquid hit the ground.

I damn near fall on my ass when Wild Man stands in front of me, his dick in his hand, letting his own urine flow. What has my mouth dropping open in shock—which is stupid given the circumstances—is that he's aiming his stream so it hits mine.

What in the hell kind of sick shit is he doing?

But then it dawns on me.

He's a fucking animal marking his territory.

I try to stop my flow so I can get the hell away from him, but I can't. My bladder is too full to stop now. So I stay squatted. My eyes drop and they get caught by the combined stream splashing on the ground below me. His pee comes so close to hitting me, but Wild Man has good aim, apparently.

We finish at the same time, and I hurriedly wiggle my ass to get rid of any drips before I stand. Wild Man lets his dick go and it just flops there. Before the cloth falls in place, I notice a drop of clear liquid still clinging to the tip. I'm careful where I put my feet so I don't step in our urine.