My head is pounding from the lack of sleep. I’ve finally managed to grab what seems like a few minutes when I’m awoken by screaming. I stagger out of bed, my legs are tangled in the sheets, making me slam down onto my knees. “Fuck!” Groaning, I manage to kick off the obstruction and stand, knees cracking with the effort.
“SLOAN!” Skye calls from downstairs her voice laced with fear.
Dread coils in my gut as I take off in just my briefs to get down to her. Exhaustion claws at my limbs, begging for me to curl back up into bed, but I push through the debilitating fatigue. Sloth pulls at my chest, making me trip down a few stairs. A loud bang reverberates throughout the house making me wonder if the hellhounds are back. My bare feet slap against the hardwood floor as my heart hammers in my chest. I finally arrive at the bottom to people pilling into the windows, not caring that they’re squishing others beneath them as they claw their way into the living room.
“Skye?” I call out, frantic to find her and the guys. More crashing comes from the kitchen, and scramble against the sluggishness in my body to make it into the next room, stepping over a few fallen students near the windows. They reach out to grab at me. I barely avoid them, stepping as carefully as I can. When I reach the kitchen, I find it devoid of Skye and the guys.
Where would they have gone?
With the backdoor almost breeched and the living room not much better off, I have no choice but to go down into the cellar. As I’m about to go down the open stairwell, I’m blocked by none other than Skye’s friend Javelynn. They snarl at me, knife in hand. I swallow hard and notice a pan sitting just out of reach on the stove.
“Javelynn, please. I don’t want to hurt you.” I say with my hands up in surrender.
“Well, I want to hurt you little Sloth. You left us. All of you left us to rot down there, while you played with your whores and tasted your freedom. We were tortured. You deserve to be tortured too.” They make a move to slash the knife down at me, but I dodge it letting the sharp tip slice through the air with a satisfying whoosh. Missing me only spurs on their anger. They charge at me, knife raised.
“JAVELYNN! Please don't do this.” I beg, but they refuse to listen. I dodge out of their way, spinning at the last second and wrapping my hands around the handle of the left-out pan. As I turn gripping the cookware for dear life, I swing the pan directly at Javelynn, smacking the knife out of their hands. The contact reverberates up my arms as I watch the knife fall, clattering on the floor between us. They make a dash to grab it while I jump over their crouched form, stepping on their hands with my bare feet. They cry out as I hear their knuckles snap beneath me. I go straight to the basement door and force myself to run down the stairs.
They had to have come this way. There’s nowhere else to go.
I make it to the cellar noting the open tunnel door. I hear what I think is Javelynn, and possibly a few others barrel down the stairs. I don’t hesitate to push the lever, beginning the closing of the door to the tunnels. It creaks with age, but I slip through before it closes just in time behind me. Sealing me in with the putrid smell and an array of bones that liter the ground. My feet sting as I walk deeper into the darkness, flesh meeting bone and dirt. I cling to the sides and hope with everything I have that I find my friends down here.
CHAPTER26
Chapter Twenty-Six
GARRISON
SONG: NO ONE KNOWS BY QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE
It hurts to breathe. I’m pretty sure one of the skeletons I was fighting bruised my ribs, but we press on. Following the path that winds up into the towering mountain range, I’m reminded of how we got here in the first place.
When we first arrived here, we were shuttled into the castle in a carriage with blacked out windows. Not able to see the way so we couldn’t escape. We’d been questioned until the guards deemed us trustworthy enough to grant us our own rooms close to Salem’s.
“You were pretty impressive back there.” Salem says with a gleam in her eyes.
I feel my lips curl up into a smirk. “Must be all the MMA training I did in high school.”
Her eyebrows raise as she looks me over.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“Well, you just seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.”
“I don’t, but my father wanted me to be able to defend myself. With as much money as we have, you never know when you’ll be a target.”
“I think that’s the most you’ve said about yourself since I met you.” Her smile is easy, but her eyes look pained. When you’re the quieter one of the group, you learn to pick up on everyone’s tells. Salem does a good job of putting on a brave face, but her eyes give her true feelings away every time. Not knowing more about mehurtsher, and my feet trip over themselves at the realization. I’d thought that she was so tied up with Walker, Pierce, and Emmet to even notice me. Her small hand catches mine, helping to steady me, and it’s like lightning crawls up my arm at her touch.
Her head tilts with concern, and I attempt to brush it off like I’m fine and not dying inside from the smallest amount of her attention. I’m definitely reading too much into it. Grasping at the smallest thread of hope that she’d want someone as screwed up as me. Most people only interact with me because of my last name, not because of who I am. My personality could be a lot for people to swallow. I like what I like, and crave what I crave, making no apologies for it.
“So, tell me more things that I don’t know.” She hasn’t let go of my hand and it immediately starts sweating. Does she know how many times I’ve used that same hand to jerk off to the thought of her? Picturing her all tied up, ball gag in her perfect mouth while I dominate her. How pretty she would look following my commands. God, just the thought of her crawling to me wearing a leather harness is enough to make me cum in my pants. I wince, feeling myself grow hard with my wandering thoughts.
“Well? Are you going to leave me hanging?” Her hand fits so well in mine. Normally, I wouldn’t even imagine the thought of hand holding, but with her it feels right.
“I collect things.”
“Like what?”
I find myself rubbing my thumb along the back of her hand. “Cars, money, Funko Pops.”
