Page 55 of Web of Lies
I wonder what gets Cruel Carter off. What kind of lover is he? Rough? Crazy? Wait — why am I wondering these things about him? Crap. Stupid brain, stop conjuring up these images. Focus. There’s a crazy man in a bathroom alone with you, focus Kaycee.
“Are you fucking done bitching yet?” His legs eat up the distance between us, stalking towards his prey with bared teeth.
Oh right—that scary sneering face is exactly what he’d look like screwing someone. Would he be happy at all? Smiling never hurts anyone. Or with him, he might keel over and expire if he ever tried. Sheesh, maybe he needs to get laid more. Although—oh no, not sexy, Kaycee. Stupid bad boy attraction! Why are they all so delicious with their tattoos, mean faces, and shitty attitudes? I was always under the impression I’d be swept away by Prince Charming, not Prince Dickface.
For the first time since meeting him, I want to pee my pants. Or run away, either works. Danger wafts off him like a tornado warning blaring in the distance, heightening my fight-or-flight mode. My muscles bunch, preparing for a fight. A fight I probably won’t win. Shit. Better prep my bony knees for another vicious nads attack.
He easily lifted me to the bathroom and locked the door, closing us off from the world or people who could help me if he beat me bloody and left me to die. A sharp shiver sparks up my spine, draining my confidence. But I can’t give up in the face of danger — no. I have to be like Simba, right? I laugh in the face of danger! Bwahaha.
Yeah, I’ll keep telling myself that for now.
“I quite enjoy bitching, as you say.” I lift my chin in defiance, looking at earth’s Devil in his cloudy eyes.
He squints, eyes zoning in on my hard swallow. “I can fucking tell. Now listen to me.” He gets right in my face, pointing a finger at my nose. “That name. That one you tried to say. Don’t. Don’t speak it aloud. Those fucking cameras? They catch every fucking thing in this school, and who do you think is watching?” My stomach drops to my feet, parting my lips from the surprise.
“The camera in my room,” I whisper unintentionally, before I can sink my teeth into my tongue to stop my rogue mouth.
“Your room? You kinky?” he grunts.
“No!” Ugh, really? Kinky? Hmm—maybe. “Someone put a camera in my vent.” Now, why am I telling him this again? Right, because I can’t stop myself from saying stupid words.
“It’s them,” he says finally, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “Fucking them.” Turning his body away from me, his fingers run through his blonde hair at a frantic pace, ruffling up his locks.
“Who are they?” I ask, shaking my head. “This makes no sense, none of this makes sense…” First Magnolia, now me? Why me? Have they found out what I’m here to do and want to silence me?
“I know your ass by now. Stop asking stupid questions. Seriously, it’s going to get you killed,” he growls in a warning, pointing another meaty finger at my nose.
“But all this? The texts, the threats, is it them?” I ask through a high-pitched squeal, trying to control the panic bleeding through my veins.
My palms sweat. My throat constricts in fear. With a heaving chest, I look back at Carter who is in front of me again, eyes wide, taking in the effect his words are having on me.
“More stupid fucking questions,” he says again. “If there’s one thing you should understand about this hellhole you call home, its secrets in this place are like currency, Little Troll. If you have any, you’re fair game. If they say slash tires, you slash tires. If they say jump off a bridge, then you do it. Or all your shit is out for the world to see. You don’t play their game; they take you down in a fiery pit and scorch you until everyone knows what you’ve done. Big or small, they exploit you, ruin you, and then you’re theirs.” He raises his brow and looks over his shoulder, puffing out a breath.
My heart nearly stops in my chest. Bright white dots form in my vision as the kingdom around me comes crashing down. I haven’t stumbled upon some simple bullying scenario. No. Nothing in this place is black and white. No. I’ve fallen into the gray abyss, a middle area. I’ve stumbled upon some black-cloak-wearing underground bullshit cult, manipulating everyone around them with the simplest tool they have. Something so simple, it’s been around for generations upon generations.
Hell, at one point the head of the FBI used it to get what he wanted, more terms in office. He even got a building named after him. He used pictures, cameras, and videos, anything he could get his hands on to break the people surrounding him. So, it seems to me, this Apocalypse person, whoever they are, is throwing their weight around through these same means. Behind the scenes, using anyone and everyone to get what they want. But what they want, exactly, is what I don’t know.
“Blackmail?” I ask, looking up at him for confirmation.
“More stupid fucking questions,” he says nodding his head up and down.
And that’s all the confirmation I need. Blackmail, that’s how they’re getting everyone to do their dirty work. Bringing more and more questions to the tip of my tongue, but I think I’ve worn out my welcome with the devil before me.
“Now, the real reason I brought you here. You can’t steal my shit, hack into it, and get away with it. Time to learn a lesson, sweetheart.”
A cruel smile, much like his name, appears on his lips. Pulling back into a wicked grin, he shouldn’t wear around anyone unless he wants them to pee their pants. Which—well — he’s getting the desired effect right now.
His hand darts out so fast, fisting my hair. Pulling the roots tight, he dislodges a scream from my panicked throat. I thrash my body, kicking and screaming bloody murder. My worn-out voice echoes off the abandoned boy’s bathroom walls in a panic. Trying every little trick in my self-defense book does nothing. His nuts are guarded, and no matter how hard I try, his fingers won’t budge from my hair.
Despite my attempts to flee, my feet drag on the floor. And it’s useless. So, fucking useless. He has at least a hundred pounds on me, there’s no fighting against him. He leads me to the wheelchair-accessible bathroom stall, slamming the door behind us, kicking behind my knees. I forcefully fall to the ground, banging my knees off the hard tiled floor. My face hovers above the disgusting, shit-stained toilet, with a bright yellow pee ring staining the brim. A mere inch away from my nose. An inch! My stomach churns, wanting to expel whatever I’ve eaten today and prepare for the worst. He may not kill me, but he’s going to drown me in someone else’s piss.
“Oh, NO! NO! Not this!” I shout, wrapping my hands around the edge of the seat, pushing against him.
But it’s futile, there’s no stopping this brute from fulfilling my new watery fate. Cold water hits my face as I try to force my way back out, pushing against his unmovable hold. My eyes and mouth squeeze shut, trying to avoid inhaling the gross as fuck water. Damn my tiny stature!
“No more stupid fucking questions. No more stealing my shit,” he says into my ear, bringing my head back out of the water. I gasp for air, pulling the freshness into my burning lungs. “Tread lightly, Kaycee. I know I’ve warned you before, but from here on out these games only get worse.”
I cough into the air, settling my breaths. “How do I make it stop?” I whisper, pleading for him to give me an answer. But my face finds the disgusting toilet water again, and he holds my head there for what seems like forever. Black dots dance in my vision before he finally pulls my head out again. Water flies everywhere as I cough and sputter, trying to get the water out of my nose and mouth. I’m going to need an hour-long shower when I get home, and some antibiotics.
