Page 97 of Pretty Lethal
I swallow nervously, but it sticks in my throat, impeded by the lump of vomit threatening to rise up and choke me.
“You have a ten-second head start,” a male voice I don’t recognize says from beneath one of the hoods. “If you make it to the treeline, then you’re home free. And if you don’t…” His words linger in the air, the malintent sending a shiver of terror down my spine. I can practically hear the smug smirk in his voice. “Well, I haven’t decided what we’ll do yet.”
“I’m keeping her all for myself,” another faceless hood says.
“I think we should line up and take turns dipping our dicks in each of her holes.”
My throat works as bile burns the back of my tongue, and I force it back down, refusing to give these men any more than they’ve already taken.
“Ready… and GO!”
The hoods part, and running on pure adrenaline, I take off into the wilderness.
My reality comes crashing backto me with an oomph as the air is knocked from my lungs, and I find myself lying on my stomach on a hard surface. Quickly rolling onto my back, I find my hands have been untied. I hurriedly pull the hood from my head, dig my heels into the floor, and scooch back on my ass.
I blink up at the cloaks standing over me, and it takes me a second to realize I’m lying inside a wooden box.
In a hole.
In the ground.
Oh, fuck.
I didn’t know it was possible, but somehow this feels even worse than being chased through the forest.
I stare around at the mound of dirt climbing well above my five-foot-four frame as terror seizes my limbs. There’s no way I can climb out of that. Hell, I’m lucky I didn’t break a bone when they shoved me in.
All but one of the cloaks steps back, slinking into the shadows offered by the trees surrounding us until only myself and one cloak remain. Carrie pulls back her hood enough for me to see her face and removes her mouthpiece.
I hadn’t realized she’d followed.
“You were a predicament I didn’t foresee," she says, low enough that her voice doesn’t carry but so I can still hear her. “At first, I thought you were a hindrance, but as more time passed, I realized you were exactly what I needed to fully break Wilder.
“The fire left him tortured. Enough that I could see his potential, but I wasn’t willing to risk everything for a child who could one day threaten everything I’ve created here.
“Watching him murder violently in the name of someone he loved made me realize he was more of an asset than I’d initially appreciated.”
“And what, you thought you could coax him back with the promise of family and make him loveyou?”
Carrie frowns down at me. “Well, a mother can dream. However, since that didn’t pan out, I’m happy to use his love for you against him.” She grins maliciously down at me before pointing toward a nearby tree. Glancing up, I freeze as I spot the red flashing light of a recording device. “Say hi. I told Wilder last time that that would be his only warning. Now, he can watch helplessly as you suffocate to death.”
“No.” I mean for the word to come out firm, but my voice cracks, fear robbing me of any defiance that still remains.
“Knowing you’re dying slowly, alone, while he can do nothing except watch will break him. He’ll fall apart. Completely disintegrate. And I’ll be there to brush up the pieces left behind. They’ll be all mine to hoard and pull out as needed. Without you, he’ll lose touch with his humanity and become the son he should always have been.”
“No. NO!” Ignoring the psychotic bitch in front of me, I glare brazenly at the camera. “No, Wilder. Do not let her manipulate you. No matter what happens to me, our love will live on in you. Fight for us. Even when I’m not here. Fight. For. Us. Be the man I know you can be. The one who gives his heart wholeheartedly and would do anything for the people he loves. You arenota monster; don’t let her turn you into one.”
“How touching,” Carrie drawls, before fixing her mouthpiece and hood.
In a last-ditch effort to survive, I scramble for the edge of the hole. Dirt cakes beneath my fingernails as I claw at it, frenzied as I try to climb out. However, with every inch gained, the dirt gives way beneath my toes, and I sink back down.
Carrie stands and watches from beneath her hood, the other cloaks coming to join her as they form a circle around me, waiting patiently until I grow weak, screaming and banging my fists uselessly against the wall of dirt as tears track down my cheeks.
Blinking through my teary eyes, I peer up at her. There’s a gun pointed directly at my face. “Lie down,” she orders, her robotic voice booming around the clearing. When I don’t immediately do as she says, she cocks the gun.
Trepidation pulses through me, and on numb legs I lower into the box—my fucking coffin. When I’m settled inside with sweaty palms and the feeling that my heart is about to leap from my chest and do a runner, someone pulls a lever and the lid snaps into place.
Crushing darkness presses in around me. True fear, like nothing I’ve ever experienced, crawls up my skin, seeps through my veins, and settles like sludge inside me. My breaths echo around me, sounding too loud in the confined space as my fingers bite into the cold hardwood beneath me.
