Page 54 of His Brutal Game
Something had changed, then. We had a chance. I didn’t know how, butsomethingwas possible. He just didn’t know how to accept himself yet. It was hard. I still hadn’t truly forgiven myself for what had happened to my little sister.
But I saw Wilder. I knew him. And there was so much more inside of him than he thought.
He picked me up by the waist and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me to my old bedroom. At the top of the bedposts, a bucket was hanging from metal bars, a remote control lying on the comforter. A hood slammed over my head. Fear instantly spiked through me. I thrust myself to the side, trying to escape, but Wilder lifted my hips, moving me on top of him, his dick sliding inside of me, pulling me apart. I moaned, fear catching in my throat. The remote beeped. Water trickled on top of the hood, sliding down, making the canvas suck against my face. I gasped.
“There’s nothing good inside of me,” he said. He pumped into my pussy. His nails scraped down my hips and I cried, the tears running down my cheeks. The remote beeped again and the water splashed on me, making it hard to breathe. “I chose you because I knew I wouldn’t care when you died. Because I knew that was part of your future.”
“Stop it,” I shouted, my words broken by sobs. “Just stop.”
“I can’t save you, Maisie. That choice isn’t up to me.” The remote beeped again, the water soaking me, the canvas on my face, my breaths uncontrolled. There wasn’t enough air. A drop sucked into my throat. I coughed, my throat burning like hell. “You have to save yourself,” he said. “Run away, Maisie. Forget the bindings. Get off of me and run. Go to where our property line breaks with the highway. You’ll find a gun. And when I catch up to you, I’ll cut off the bindings. Then, you kill me, you understand? And you run as fast as you fucking can.” More water dumped onto my head, the cloth pressing against my face. “And never, ever look back.”
I imagined racing as fast as I could. Finally getting off of the property line. Wilder’s blank eyes as he removed the leather braces from my arms. Lifting that gun. Meeting Wilder’s gaze for the last time. Pulling the trigger.
“You have a choice,” Wilder said.
But I didn’t want to live a life like that. Ifthatwas my fate, then I would let myself be wrong. Yes, he was sadistic. A predatory animal. A violent storm.
But he cared. About his brother. Aboutme.And he knew it.
It scared him.
“Tell me how you feel,” I demanded. He reached up, holding my neck, the fabric clinging to my face, not letting me breathe. “Just tell me,” I wheezed out, and he loosened his grip, letting me speak. “Tell me that you feel something for me, Wilder. Say anything, and I’ll stay.”
“You are out of your damned mind,” he muttered. He tightened his grip once again, taking away my air. I twitched on top of him, convulsing, my vision blurry. He let go of the hood, but gripped my hips, fucking me so hard my teeth snapped.
“We can do this,” I shouted. “You know we can and that’s why you keep pushing me away. You’re afraid of what needs to be done. Because you know what loving me means.”
He slapped my face, smacking the hood off. The world came into focus. He held my neck, glaring at me, letting his cock go so deep inside of me that it hit my cervix. I wailed.
“Don’t you get it?” he said, his voice low and threatening. He sat up, pressing his forehead to mine. “This is because of me.”
“Everyone dies,” I whispered. “Everyone. Your brother. Your father. Even you, Wilder.” I bit my lip. “Even me.”
His rhythm slowed, his eyes leaving mine as he contemplated my words.
“One way or another,” he said, “you will die because of me.”
Because of me.
His words buzzed in my ears. He was going to kill me, then. He was a Feldman, and that was what the Feldmans did. He was trying to warn me. To let me escape. Because he couldn’t fight it any longer. Unless I ran now.
Run as fast as you fucking can.
But I couldn’t make myself move.
There would never be a way to convince Wilder that he had a choice too. Our future would always come to this. His family’s heritage would always come first.
CHAPTER 20
Wilder
The next morning, I startled awake. Maisie wasn’t beside me.
My pulse skyrocketed. I pulled on my clothes and ran out the door. Dark shadows stretched over the pasture. I flicked on the light in the Dairy Barn: it was empty. At least she wasn’t there.
I checked the Calving Barn. A few of the ranchers had arrived.
“Anyone seen my wife?” I asked.
