Page 13 of Pounded in the Patch
He's playing with me.
This isn't just about catching me, I realize. He's enjoying this. He's drawing it out, letting me think I might escape just so he can take that hope away piece by piece.
"Marco," his voice calls through the trees, dripping with dark humor.
I don't answer, don't move, barely even breathe.
"Polo," he says anyway, and his voice is definitely closer now.
Run.
I take off again, crashing through the forest with no regard for stealth or direction. I just need to get away from that voice, from the terrible certainty that he's going to catch me no matter what I do.
But even as I run, some traitorous part of my mind is whispering that this is exactly what I've always fantasized about. Being chased. Being hunted.
And a masked man, of all fucking things.
Stop it, I tell myself fiercely.He kidnapped you. He's a psychopath who kidnapped you and tied you up in his car. This is not a fantasy. This is not something you want.
But my body seems to have other ideas. Despite the terror, the exhaustion, and everything logical and sane screaming at me to get away, I can feel heat building low in my stomach, trickling down between my thighs. My skin feels hypersensitive, every brush of cool air making me shiver.
What is wrong with me?
"Getting tired yet, night monster?" His voice is practically on top of me now, and I realize with dawning horror that I ran in the wrong direction. The pumpkin patch is visible through the trees ahead—I'm right back where I started.
I spin around, trying to locate him, but the fog has followed me into the forest and everything is a blur.
"I can hear your heart racing," he says, and his voice seems to come from everywhere at once. "I can practically smell your fear. It's intoxicating."
Where is he?
"But there's something else, isn't there?" His voice drops to a whisper that carries perfectly through the still air. "Something you don't want to admit to yourself."
No.
"Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet."
Strong hands grab my waist from behind, and I scream into the night.
CHAPTER 4
CAUGHT
Seraphina
"Got you," he growls against my ear, his breath hot. His arms are like steel bands around me, holding me effortlessly despite my struggles.
No, no, no. Fuck!
I twist in his grip, trying to break free, but he's so much stronger than me it's almost laughable. My feet barely touch the ground as he lifts me against his chest, and I can feel the hard planes of his body through his open shirt. The tattoos I glimpsed earlier are more visible now—intricate smoke and tree designs that disappear beneath the fabric.
Why me? All I wanted was to go to the office party in this slutty little costume and take someone home with me at the end of the night. Instead, I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere with a masked man at least twice my size, and I didn’t even get fucked.
"Shh," he says, practically dragging me back toward the pumpkin patch like I weigh nothing at all. I fight against him,but it’s no use. "You ran well, night monster. Better than I expected. But you weren’t fast enough."
The fog parts around us as we emerge from the forest, revealing the glowing jack-o'-lanterns scattered throughout the clearing. Up close, they're even more elaborate than I initially realized—some are true works of art, with intricate patterns carved into their surfaces that throw complex shadows across the ground. Others are genuinely terrifying, all sharp angles and menacing expressions.
This is insane. All of this is absolutely insane.
