Chapter Nine

Lexi

Speeding out into the moonlight, I take a deep steadying breath to recover from the exhilaration. The cold bite of air misting my breath into the sky as I try to regain my poise. Heart-rate finally thumping in a normal rhythm, my thoughts turn to the night, it took a turn I never could’ve expected. The fear, mixing with pleasure has me intoxicated. It’s a combination I never could have imagined, but I’m already addicted.

A gloved hand smothers my mouth, quieting my panicked squeak of fright. Time has sped by so fast, but has it really been twenty minutes already? These men, they move so quick, so quiet that unless they want me to know they are there, I have not been able to sense them until they pounce. It makes me nervous, but it also thrills me.

He pulls me from behind, further into the open. I don’t know what his game is. I try to twist, but his grip on my mouth pulls me tighter to his body, a second arm wrapping around me. I kick out, hoping to unbalance him but he stands strong, ignoring my struggle, twisting me and pushing me onward. The opposing building he herds me towards seems a strange choice, but I don’t question it as I allow him to guide me like a lamb to the slaughter.

These men know what they are doing. I don’t know which of them I am with, as they all took chase wearing masks and coverings. This hunt has become something of a game of guess who, but do I even care?

Perhaps I do.

Unease curls through me as I spot the gap in the fence. This had to have been planned out, it isn’t part of their normal domain. What do I really know about the men in the masks? Am I actually safe?

When the chains fall loose from the doors, cut clean with some kind of tool, I try to fight free from his grip. This doesn’t feel right. Ignoring my struggle, he hefts me up over his shoulder, my legs dangling over to his chest. A violent slap to my arse brings tears to my eyes. A second stops my kicking, making me go limp, his hand remaining in place. Curling his fingers around my legs, digging his digits into my skin.

A reminder to behave.

To keep me securely in place as he moves on. His hold on me feels different from everything else tonight, it hurts. It’s not just strong, it’s painful. Bruising. I cry out but he doesn’t adjust his grip. I’m carried upstairs, along unknown corridors, past rooms full of junk until he is satisfied with one and takes me inside.

I don’t know what separates this room from the others, but the musty smelling room has me wrinkling my nose. He shrugs me off his shoulder, dropping me, and I just manage to get my hands in front of my face to stop me from colliding with the stone floor.

This feels wrong. Sure, they enjoyed scaring me, but truly hurting me?

As I turn back to him, my blood freezes as I watch him lock and bolt the door. It’s not the lack of escape that has my veins like ice though. It’s the large knife I hadn’t seen as he carried me here, strapped to his side.

I scream.

Attempting to stand, my ankle jars, pain sears through my muscles as I attempt to put weight on my foot. My freedom is moving further from me in each passing moment. I don’t remember twisting it, but I must have when he dropped me from his shoulder. He doesn’t move from the doorway, as if he knows I can’t advance, just watching me, waiting for his moment.

Sliding down the wall, I attempt my standoff from the floor, hoping when the time comes, I will have more strength in my ankle to run. Whatever I can get my hands on, I launch at him. The satisfying thud of a heavy stapler bouncers off his head but it doesn’t stop him, it only encourages him to advance. I wish I could see his face, see which of these monsters has me cornered, but I fear it is none of them. That scares me more.

I wanted to be scared tonight. I guess I got more than I wished for.