If I hadn’t already survived the worst night of my life with Callum, maybe I’d be paralyzed with fear, but a dark part of mewants to give in. Let him finish me off like leftovers—something wicked about the rush of adrenaline makes me excited.
Roman’s eyes narrow when my arms go limp and I slow my breathing, willing him with my eyes to do his worst.
“You’re so pathetic,” he growls, dipping down and stroking his tongue up the side of my neck. Chills race up my spine, and a sinking feeling twists in my gut. He puts more weight on my secured wrists and pushes them farther into the ground. The scent of earth and wet grass fills my senses, instantly taking me back to the night Callum tried to murder me.
It’s odd how something as small as a familiar smell can trigger you. It pulls you right back into a moment in time that still lives in the darkest part of your soul, trapped in the grave of your memories where only terrible people still stir occasionally. Raw terror pools in my chest. “Why did you do this to me?” I cry, forgetting Roman is the one pressing me into the mud.
I thought I was past that trauma, but clearly I’m not. It still haunts me. All I see is Callum and the same terrible lack of a soul behind those eyes.
I blink a few times and realize it’s Roman staring down at me, not Callum. Roman lifts a brow, seemingly trying to understand what’s going on in my head. His scent falls over me like mist on a cold morning, washing away the smell of being buried alive.
He loosens his grip on my wrists, and the moment he does I reach for him, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding on to him as if he helped me out of the loose dirt that night. Roman goes deathly still, holding us up with his palms pressed into the earth.
This cruel, beautiful man smells like engine oil and teakwood. Someone who showers often but constantly has their hands on engines. It’s a lovely smell. It’s better than death. It’s the most wonderful scent I’ve ever met.
After a second of clarity, I realize I’m embracing someone who just chased me down in a cemetery.
I gasp and release him quickly. Roman remains still, but his cold eyes are locked with mine. “Oh, now you want to be the sweet girl throwing hugs? The problem is, I don’t think you’ll leave unless I make you. Isn’t that? right?”
I swallow my pride. I don’t know what to say to him. “I’ll leave, I promise. I’ll leave town as soon as I’ve taken care of my uncle’s estate.”
The face of the devil himself grins widely at me—it doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “No, baby, you’re leaving tonight.”
He sits up, my wrists pinned now with his thighs on each side of me. He unlatches his belt and pulls it from his pants…to tie me up, I fucking hope. Because It’d be better than the other idea floating in my head.
Oh my God.What the fuck is going on in Bane Falls?
2
BRIAR
What are you doing?”I ask, fear evident in my voice. My hands are trembling at my sides, and I try to shake myself from his hold to no avail.
Roman rolls his eyes dramatically, like I’m an ingrate for thinking he’d dare touch me. “Showing you what nightmares are really made of,” he says scathingly as he shifts off me enough to flip me over onto my stomach.
Dirt gets in my mouth as he shoves my head down before binding my wrists together with his belt. It’s thick leather, almost like it was made specifically for this purpose of binding a person. I didn’t pin him as a murderer, but holy shit, if the shoe fits.
A sound halfway between a choke and a cry breaks from my throat as Roman forces me to stand back up. His scent moves through me again. It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume he works at the same shop that the other guys do.
I swear to God if I get out of this alive, I’m torching that place to the ground for what they’re letting him do to me. Didn’t their mommies teach them not to fuck with someone who has nothing left to lose?
A gasp slips past my lips as he spins me to face him. In the dim light, it’s hard to discern much of his features other than his empty eyes. They send chills through my entire nervous system. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s killed people before. People don’t just have this calm, depraved aura about them unless they’ve seen the lights go out in another’s eyes.
He doesn’t bother saying anything to me. Instead, he gives me a once-over, taking in the mud-stained clothing I’m drenched in before turning me to face the darkness of the graveyard. He wraps his hand around my bound wrists and shoves me toward the farthest headstones. I stumble and break the contact with his hand.
The moment I’m free I think about trying to run back to the diner but decide that it’s likely what he wants me to do. He must get off on feeling powerful and making people scared shitless. So, I don’t give into it.
Roman laughs, a vicious and unrelenting sound that makes me tense up. His arm is hooked around my waist, securing me to his side. “You really aren’t afraid of me, are you?”
“No,” I say sternly, trying to push away the memories the scent of the graveyard brings me and stay grounded in the now.
He considers me for a moment. “But you’re afraid ofsomeone.”
My silence is answer enough for him.
He scoffs. “You are one of the dumbest girls I’ve ever met. A whore. You were going to fuck at least two of them tonight, weren’t you?” His voice is gravelly and buries into my core. Fury rears back into my throat.
“Why? Are you jealous that they catch women’s eyes because they aren’t all fucked up like you?”
