Chapter 12 #2
Frustrated tears filled my eyes as I sank my teeth into my lip to prevent a sob of despair from leaving me. What the hell was I going to do? Even if I made it back to my car without running into the maniac, I had no signal on my phone, and my car was fucked.
I needed to keep going through the cornfield and hope there was a house nearby. That was my only choice.
The second the thought entered my mind, loud rustling sounded behind me, and before I could move, a gloved hand appeared from nowhere, wrapping around my mouth at the same time as a hard body pressed against me from behind.
Momentarily forgetting that the person chasing me had a knife, fight or flight instinct kicked in, and I kicked my leg back, aiming for their shin as I attempted to wriggle out of their grasp.
My efforts didn’t get me anywhere but on my back in a puddle of mud with the figure sitting on top of me, pinning me with their entire weight. One hand held my hands above my head, while the other pressed the tip of the knife against my throat, and the scarecrow masked loomed in my face.
Terror clawed its way up my throat, preventing me from screaming.
The scarecrow was more frightening than the one I’d seen as a young girl.
Bloodied scars covered the rough material, and where the eye holes should have been, black patches had been stitched over them, making it seem that the scarecrow had no eyes.
There was no nose, and the black mouth had been stitched up with thick white thread, and around the throat, a rope was tied, preventing the mask from slipping off.
Fear slithered through every inch of my body, my life flashing before my eyes, before an image of Billie’s beautiful face settled in my vision. What if I never got to see her again?
“Pl…please don’t hurt me,” I begged, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Please! I have a daughter.”
The masked man chuckled darkly, a gruff laugh that would haunt my nightmares if I survived this. “What will I get in return if I let you go?”
“Anything! I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt me.”
He moved the knife to run the cool blade against my heated cheek, and I squinted against the drops of rain still falling from the sky to look up at him. “Anything?” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “Will you let me fuck you with my knife, pretty girl?”
“Wh…What?” He wanted to fuck me with his knife?
Another laugh followed, this time, a few octaves lighter. “You heard. I fuck you with either my knife or my cock.” He held the knife up, his gloved hand clasping the black handle as the blade shimmered under the bright moon. “Your choice. What’s it to be, Kiki?”
Kiki.
My brows pulled together. “Jackson?”
I should have known. Of course he’d use my childhood trauma to torment me. Fury flowed through my body, tinged with relief at knowing he wouldn’t kill me, but it was short-lived when he pressed the tip of the knife into my neck. A sharp sting caused me to gasp, and I was certain he’d drawn blood.
Powerless to move under his weight, I gaped up at him, horrified that he’d wounded me. “What are you doing?” I squealed, my high-pitched voice unrecognizable.
“Teaching you a lesson for disobeying my order.”
Before my brain had a chance to process the turn of events, Jackson was off me, and I was flipped onto my stomach, my face landing in the mud, which filled my nostrils and my mouth, making me splutter.
I attempted to pull myself up, but Jackson shoved my head down, more mud coating my face before he grabbed my arms, yanking them behind my back, and straddling my thighs.
Rough material brushed against my arms, and managing to turn my head, I watched in horror as Jackson tied a thick rope around my wrist. When he shifted off me, I tried to move, but he’d tied the rope too tightly.
The muscles in my arms screamed in protest at the position they were in, made worse when Jackson grabbed my hips, lifting my ass into the air.
“Jackson, please,” I pleaded, knowing it was futile. “Please, let me go.”
He leaned over, grabbing a chunk of my hair and lifting my head back so I had no choice but to stare at his masked face. Despite knowing it was Jackson underneath the scarecrow, my heart pounded with fright.
Regret slammed into me like a freight train. I’d confided in him when we were teenagers, telling him just how terrified I had been when I was lost in the cornfield, and how, even years later, I still had nightmares about an evil scarecrow chasing me.
He would comfort me, telling me that he would never let the scary scarecrow hurt me.
And yet, here he was. Bringing my nightmare to life.
“Beg all you want, Kiki. It makes me hard to hear your protests.” As if to prove his point, he thrust his hard cock against my ass. “Besides, it won’t change anything. I’ve waited long enough to fuck this cunt, I’m not waiting any longer.”
Releasing me, and unable to put my hands out to protect my fall, my face crashed into the mud again. A gasp fell from my mouth as the cold blade of the knife was placed under the waistband of my pants.
The tearing of material filtered into the night as Jackson sliced the weapon over my hip and down to my leg. Cool air hit my exposed skin as he lowered my cut pants to my thighs, and with another flick of the knife, my panties were torn from my body.
An appreciative growl rumbled low from behind me as the handle—at least, I hoped it was the handle—of the knife slid along the length of my slit several times before pressing against my clit.
Against my will, a delicious shiver traveled the length of my spine as Jackson moved the handle in small circles, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves. My hands fisted behind my back, my body betraying my brain’s attempt to ignore the flicker of pleasure growing between my legs.
“I couldn’t wait to claim this pussy when we were younger, Kiki,” Jackson said, his voice tinged with malice as he continued his teasing. “I was going to make sure that no other fucker got to experience being inside. But you just had to go and steal that from me, didn’t you?”
“Ah!” I gasped as a pang of pain shot through me when Jackson thrust the handle inside me.
I clamped my eyes closed as he moved it in and out of me several times, pain replaced by desire, and without meaning to, my pussy clenched around the handle. When Jackson removed it, I was left feeling empty.
“Such a filthy whore, aren’t you, Kiki? Look how you’ve coated my knife with your need to be fucked,” Jackson growled.
From the corner of my eye, I managed to peer over my shoulder to find him holding the knife up.
He’d lifted his mask up, enough for me to see his handsome face as he gazed up at the knife.
Feeling my eyes on him, a menacing smile pulled at his lips, his dimples appearing as he lowered the handle and sucked my juices off the length of it.
Fuck. That should not have had my core clenching. Nothing about this should have been making my core grow slicker, and yet…it was.
Throwing the knife to one side, Jackson lowered the mask again, covering his face as he unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his hard cock. “Ready to be fucked by your worst nightmare, Kiki?”
He didn’t give me a chance to answer before he lined his cock up at my entrance and slammed inside of me in one powerful thrust. Another gasp left me, only this time, the pain didn’t follow, but a burst of pleasure when Jackson’s cock hit a spot inside of me that Alec had never been able to find.
“Holy fucking shit,” Jackson gritted out. “There I was thinking your cunt would be loose from all the cocks you’ve had, but this—” he pulled out before slamming back into me “—this cunt, is so damn tight.”
Gripping my hips with his gloved hands, Jackson began pumping in and out of me, his pants and groans reverberating around us. I kept my eyes closed as every thrust hit the same spot, causing a sensation to start building inside of me that would usually take me forever to get to.
Losing myself in the moment, the scene around me disappeared into darkness, and I allowed myself to believe in something other than reality.
Right then, Jackson didn’t hate me. He didn’t think I’d betrayed him and broken his heart. Right then, it was just us, our past forgotten. He and I—the only man I ever wanted to be with—learning what it felt like to give into one another.
I should have felt guilty for leaning into the pleasure; I was, after all, cheating on Alec, but there wasn’t the slightest part of me that felt guilt. I wanted this.
My growing climax intensified until one of Jackson’s hands lifted from my hip and his leather-covered palm smacked against my ass cheek with an almighty crack. My eyes shot open, the cornfield rushing back into my vision.
“You gonna come for me like the greedy little slut you are? You gonna come all over my cock while I pound this tight pussy?” Memories of the past flashed through my mind, killing any chance of reaching an orgasm.
It was the same thing every time; unless I focused on blocking the past out, I struggled to come.
When I didn’t reply, Jackson slapped my ass again. “Answer me!”
“I…I,” groaned, frustrated tears welling in my eyes.
There was another smack on my ass, harder this time, making me cry out. “You what, Kiki? You better not be thinking about fucking faking it again?”
I couldn’t stop a sob from bursting free as the tears leaked from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks and landing in the already soaking mud. “I can’t!” I cried, all trace of my climax now gone.
A guttural growl rumbled from behind me as Jackson increased his pace. “The fuck you mean you can’t? Fucking come for me, slut!”
More tears flowed as humiliation coursed through me, and when I spoke, it came out in a pitiful whisper. “I can’t. I’m…I’m broken.”
Jackson paused. Only for a second, but enough to tell me he’d heard. He began thrusting again, gripping my hips harder as he plowed into me from behind. His pants turned desperate, and after several more pumps, the warmth of his release flooded my core.
Pulling out of me, he untied my hands, my aching arms falling helplessly to my sides.
With my cheek still resting in the mud, I watched through watery eyes as Jackson tucked his cock away.
He pulled the mask off, his eyes fixed on where my ass was still exposed and sticking up in the air, his release seeping out of me.
His gaze met mine, and a snarl twisted on his features. “You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?”
Misery slivered through me like a disease at the harsh words from the man I once loved. As much as the mask had scared me, I wished he’d left it on so that I didn’t have to see the hateful glare he was giving me.
Any form of response lodged in my throat as he stood before stomping over to where he’d thrown his knife. Bending down to grab it, he turned his back on me as he took several steps away from where I remained as still as a statue in the mud.
Realizing he was about to leave, fear replaced the humiliation racing through me, and before I could stop myself, words tumbled out of my mouth.
“Jackson.” He paused mid-stride, twisting to look at me over his shoulder.
“Please…” I begged, rolling onto my ass, and looking up at him, hoping I could appeal to the part of him I knew was buried deep down, past his hurt and hatred for me.
“Please. I know you hate me, but don’t leave me here alone. I’m…I’m scared.”