Zach.
Those steel-gray eyes staring at me through that devil mask right after he made me—
No.
My eyes snap open, but the darkness is disorienting. I try to move, but my arms are bound behind my back. The bite of metal around my neck makes my pulse skyrocket, and there’s the clink of a chain when I shift.
The cold air bites my exposed skin. The rough concrete beneath me is equally frigid, as it would be during winters up north.
Not Miami.
Definitely not fucking Miami.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I pull my knees under me, then push up to take in my surroundings.
I'm in some kind of expansive warehouse with exposed beams and high ceilings. It’s bare, lit by industrial lights. There are a few windows, and outside the sky is overcast with dark gray clouds.
At least it's not a small, dark space. I gag, bile crawling up my throat at the thought of being trapped again in that fucking freezer.
Stop, Merci.
Focus on the present shit show.
Like the fact my asshole stepbrother drugged me, then tied me up in the equivalent of a giant meat locker. I shift again, following the clink of metal. Great, the chain attached to the metal collar around my neck is bolted to the floor and short enough that I can’t even stand.
"Motherfucker."
The door to the warehouse creaks open, and Zach walks in wearing dark jeans and a black Henley. There’s something terrifying about that calm facade he’s wearing again. It’s too cold. Like he’s walking down the street.
"Look who decided to finally wake up."
I baremy teeth in what might pass for a smile. "Go fuck yourself with a cactus."
Zach doesn’t respond. He just stands there, staring at me with that hollow, empty gaze that makes my skin crawl.
Behind him, the dickhead with the crystalline nun mask enters, his too-cool-for-this-shit aura wrapped around him like a second skin.
"Aw, need help snuffing me out this time?" I jut my chin toward his friend. "Is that why you brought back up?"
He just stares at me, face blank. Like he’s not even human.
It’s unnerving.
“Cat got your tongue? Or are you just practicing your impression of a brick wall?"
Nun Mask chuckles. “Wow, you didn’t tell me how mouthy he is.”
“And you make me wish I had more middle fingers, so I could show you just how much I don’t give a shit about your intimidation tactics.”
Zach steps closer, squatting down, his steel-gray eyes locking onto mine. They’re dead. Empty. Just like they were that day he attacked me at school, his hands around my throat until school safety pulledhim off.
But he still gives no response, and it pisses me off just like at the club when I couldn't get a reaction while grinding on him.
My stomach churns at the thought, and I squeeze my eyes shut. He . . . he jerked me off. Made me come.
"Finally realizing you're going to die,brother?" Zach's voice is flat, mechanical.
“We’restepbrothersyou psychotic piece of shit.” I grit my teeth, narrowing my eyes as I stare right at him. “And I’m grossed out that you got me off. Like, seriously? That's some Game of Thrones-level shit."
