Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Savannah…
It was dark, and the slight breeze held the kiss of fall along with the damp and green smell of the nearby river.
The branches of the trees swayed in the slight wind, rattling like bones, the Spanish Moss swaying like the tattered remains of a wedding dress.
I wasn’t sure if Bonaventure had a ghost bride legend, or a woman in white.
I know that it held the grave of little Gracie Watson, but she didn’t haunt her grave that I knew of, but rather a bank downtown…
or at least that is what Lainey had said at dinner.
She was some kind of a ghost tour guide and enthusiast, I guess.
It was cool, but not cold, but I was sure that as soon as my clothes started coming off, it would definitely get cold…
Was I really doing this? I asked myself, and the surge of excitement in my breast said, absolutely.
I stepped over the threshold of the gate that Hangman held open, and shivered but not with the chill on the air, but rather anticipation.
The rules were simple; I got a head start, a full minute, to run and to hide. After a minute, the men fanned out. The goal was to avoid them, but especially avoid Corvus for as long as possible.
If I was caught, I lost an article of clothing, and I was subjected to light foreplay – the men’s choice. No penetration, though. No fingers, no cocks, nothing inside me except maybe a tongue from a deep kiss.
I didn’t quite know how to feel about that, but Corvus had asked me to do it for him… I’d reluctantly agreed on that front, but voiced my unease, which had seemed to please him in some way.
“Off you get,” Hangman said when I lingered inside the gate for a hair too long. I looked at him and he smiled warmly, through his longish beard and said, “Clock’s ticking.”
“Run rabbit ruuuuuunn!” someone called out behind me, and I bolted, into the dark, sprinting for everything I was worth up the center drive, before darting off to the right along one of the walking paths.
I carefully stealthed between mausoleums and tall grave markers, and surreptitiously tucked myself behind one of the gnarled oaks, trying to catch my breath.
I heard echoing laughter from up front, and heard the boys fan out, slight whistling calls flitting between graves and trees, as I stayed still and listened to them advance.
I swallowed, and worked on controlling my breathing, to quiet it, and bring it down so I could listen but my heart still thundered in my chest, the blood rushing in my ears.
A branch snapped, entirely too close, and I froze, listening, ears straining, and when I heard a rustle, I ducked low and took off, running up the path in the opposite direction, dodging onto the gravel and sand drive as a shadow loomed off to my left.
I sprinted, rushing through the night past the arch with Jesus and the beautifully carved marble woman sitting near him.
I slowed down, looking back, and ran right into a wall of muscle and leather in front of me. I’d been so focused on who may be coming up behind me, I’d forgotten to remain situationally aware of what was in front of me and around me.
Uh-oh.
Hands went to my elbows to steady me, and I looked up into a wicked smile, very white teeth set in a scruffy jaw, shadowed with deep dark hair.
Equally dark eyes penetrated into my very soul as Synister thrust his leg between mine, making me rise to my toes.
I swallowed hard and he said, “Got you little rabbit.”
“So, you do,” I whispered.
“I’ll take this,” he said lowering me to my feet, his hands leaving my waist to pluck at the buttons of the shirt I’d stolen from Corvus.
“Okay,” I stammered carefully.
He jerked his head in a direction and said, “He’s that way, I don’t want him to catch you too soon… let the boys have some fun and make it good for him.” He pushed the shirt back off my shoulders and took it from me and I shivered as the cool breeze caressed my heated skin.
He put his lips near my ear and captured my earlobe gently between his teeth briefly before breathing into it, “Run little rabbit, run!”
I went past him, and ghosted through a walkway to the left, heading back toward the front of the cemetery.
He stood watching after me, stuffing my shirt into his back pocket as he put his hands to his mouth and made a soft mourning dove call with his hands.
“This is not fair!” I hissed under my breath, but of course they would be communicating with each other somehow.
I smiled, and slid down to hands and knees, crawling very carefully between stones as I heard footfalls on the path. I huddled in place and heard two of them come together.
“You see her?”
“Synister caught her.”
“Fuck, of course he would be the first.”
A slight laugh. “Just means fewer clothes when we find her.”
“If we find her – she’s good at this game.”
“I know right?”
“You go that way, I’ll take this way.”
“Copy!”
They parted ways, and I couldn’t be sure which one of them had been which – I hadn’t been around them long enough to be able to identify their voices.
I waited until their footfalls faded, breathed out the breath I’d been holding, and shifted slightly, peeking out into the walkway.
I could probably hide for quite a while, but that would get cold, quick, so I knew I needed to keep moving – still, I definitely had an advantage of being able to hold still for a time.
The coast was clear, so I crawled out from my hiding spot, and moved further down back toward the river, opposite of where one had gone, the other having struck out toward the fence line shared with the cemetery next door.
I swallowed, and stepped carefully, and wandered for who knew how long before I hit the main drag and the line of oaks that towered over the long drive.
I thought I might actually have this thing, when a flicker of light went up near one of the trees, and I felt my shoulders drop.
He snapped the cap of his zippo closed and the coal on the end of his cigarette glowed red.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” his voice was oily and left a film on my senses that I didn’t like.
I drew breath and made to bolt but Specter lunged at me, and caught me around the waist. We both went down and I put out my hands to stop my fall on the gravel.
I tried to get away, struggling to wiggle out of his grip.
I kicked out, and tried to be careful about it, connecting with his shoulder.
He grunted, and I got my legs mostly free.
I kept moving, kept crawling, and kicking and finally kicked free!
He got my left shoe and crowed in triumph as I bolted in another direction blindly, trying to get away from him. Of all the people I didn’t want to meet out here, his crude ass was definitely it.
Like with Synister, I was too focused on making sure he wasn’t coming after me, I crashed into another set of arms, a pair that gripped me, turned me, and fetched my back up against a tree, the bark digging into my skin.
Like with Synister, a knee went between my legs, and pinned me to the spot. My pussy let out a throbbing ache, and I swallowed hard. God, why was that so hot? I thought to myself.
Fingers twined gently between mine, and my arms were raised and pinned above my head.
I looked into a pair of hazel-green eyes leeched nearly colorless by the slight moonlight out here.
A swipe of medium light hair swept across his forehead, and his smile was a slow and easy parting of lips to bare straight white teeth as he pressed himself against me, letting me know just how hard this was making him.
I swallowed hard and Torment breathed, “Relax, baby. You’re safe with me.”
He transferred my wrists to one of his hands, and easily managed to hold both with the one, his fingers long. The other fingertips he trailed along my skin in such a way to leave fire in their wake.
I shivered and he smiled and whispered in my ear, “You’re much too hot to be cold…” he chuckled darkly, the sound dangerous and sharp, like a very real blade pressing against my skin, about to cut, but not quite – a threat of pain, a pain so sweet you could become addicted.
“You like the way I touch you like this?” He trailed fingers along my ribs and I gasped.
“Yes,” I confessed, and he smiled even bigger.
“I’ll let Corvus know,” he said and kissed the tip of my nose before whispering, “Gimme the other shoe.”
I kicked off my other shoe and he said, “Watch where you step, baby. This is supposed to end in fun, not blood; more’s the pity.”
He let me go, swooped down, and picked up the shoe, backing off me.
“Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run,” he sang out softly, the old 1940s British tune, and I did, I ran, partly because it was the game, but also because there had been a glint in Torment’s eyes, a savage darkness of a type that said if I didn’t he might not want to stop, and he might not want to be gentle – everything about his countenance a silent threat.
I hid and caught my breath.
The game would end at dawn, and if I won, I was guaranteed a shopping spree on Corvus’ card.
If I lost, I was going to get some wild sex in a cemetery…
so honestly, either way I was winning. But now I was fully invested in not losing any more clothes if I could, and I was particularly interested in not getting too scratched or bruised after Specter’s spectacular tackle.
The way he had taken me down, I was guaranteed to at least have some scrapes if not a plethora of bruises; more than likely on my knees where I’d taken the brunt of the fall. I was glad I had my jeans on, landing like that on my bare knees would have left me bloody.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t looking good for me making it to dawn; not that I really wanted to, because again, that mourning dove call, and again, bootsteps and the rustle of leather closed in on me.
I slid around the monument I’d hidden myself against, and stood carefully, edging until it was between me and the sounds of the hunt.