Chapter 10
Abranch cracked, and it was accompanied by a muffled curse and then…a body.
I watched, completely unimpressed, as the six-foot-something Jackweed tumbled down the hill and landed in a heap of leaves a few feet in front of us.
“Ow! Son of a fucking whore.”
Beside me, Ryan looked toward the noise and gasped. “What the hell was that?”
I didn’t have to guess. I already knew. “Your boss.”
Sure enough, the bastard groaned from the bottom of the slope, and my prey’s eyes darted between us. “I…I think I’m gonna head home.”
“Hm. How unfortunate.”
He didn’t wait for further response. He practically sprinted back toward the trail, and I growled. I watched him disappear before slowly turning back to Hollis, every muscle in my body tightening at the image.
I’d spent an hour convincing Ryan he was safe with me, that he could relax, that I wasn’t some asshole trying to get him drunk and drag him into the woods. -Even if it was all a lie, it was a carefully crafted and planned lie.
This idiot had blown it apart.
I stalked toward him, rage in my head and the sounds of chains echoing in my mind, along with Melodie’s chastising nagging.
He was sitting up now, rubbing his ankle with a look that suggested he knew he’d fucked up.
Good. At least you know you are fucking stupid.
“You’ve got about three seconds,” I said, my voice flat, “to explain why the fuck you’re following me.”
He looked up at me with pure irritation and defiance.
“I wasn’t following you.”
“No?”
“No.”
“So you just accidentally wandered into the exact spot I brought someone for the night?”
“I saw you leave the bar, freak.”
“So you were following me.”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing something fucked up to my fucking squad-mate.”
I stopped dead and smiled wider.
“Excuse me?”
“You got him drunk as fuck and led him to a creepy abandoned mansion,” he accused, trying and failing to get up.
“He had two beers.”
“You walked him into the woods alone at night.”
“He walked beside me.”
“He could barely stand up,” he protested, and I barked out a harsh laugh.
“That’s your theory?”
“It’s what I saw, asshole.”
“You don’t know a goddamn thing about what you saw. Maybe you are drunk too.”
His jaw clenched. “I know what I see. I am highly trained, and you are all kinds of fucked up. I know something is off about you.”
“Perhaps. But as you cops know, you need proof. Where is yours, Pig?”
“I watched you manipulate him all night.”
“You watched me? How cute?”
His expression hardened, and his jaw tightened even further.
“I watched you isolate him and walk off with him. He’d never go with someone like you. What did you do, freak? Drug him? Get your whore to roofie him behind my back?”
Something inside me snapped and I walked up to the struggling buffoon on the ground.
“You self-righteous prick. You can’t see beyond your own pig pen, can you? Roll around in shit all day, even you grew weary.” I grabbed the front of his jacket before I even realized I’d moved, lifting him up slightly off the ground into a seated position.
His head jerked back, and he growled, latching onto my wrists.
“You think I’m some predator, huh ?”
“I think decent people don’t lure drunk strangers into the fucking woods.”
I shoved him hard, throwing him back on the ground and reveling in the grunt of pain. His injured ankle folded beneath him, but instead of going down again completely, he caught my hoodie and yanked me with him.
We stumbled together.
He recovered first, shoving me square in the chest, and punching me in the nose until it sprayed his hand with blood.
“You can be pissed all you want,” he growled, “but if I think someone’s about to get hurt, I’m stepping in.”
I laughed right at him, spewing the red blood onto his face.
“So possessive of your toys, Piggy.”
“Fuck you. I protect my own.”
“No,” I snapped. “Funny. You fuck all of the men in your unit? What would that boyfriend say?
His eyes flashed. “Fuck you. He’s not my boyfriend. You won’t get to me. I’ve dealt with men like you before. A fucking dog.”
That hit harder than the shove for some reason, and for a split second, I just stared at him. The anger burned away every other thought I had, and I spit more blood on the ground.
“Say that again.”
“I said—”
“No.”
I stepped closer until there wasn’t even an inch between us, our bodies pressed together, though he loomed over me.
“Call me a fucking dog one more fucking time.”
He didn’t back up. Instead, he lifted his chin, glaring straight into my eyes.
“I said,” he repeated, quieter this time, “you are a goddamn bitch with a bone.”
I smiled, but not because I was amused.
I was furious.
“You don’t know the first thing about me, Pig.”
“I know you’re a freak who doesn’t know when to stop.”
“Neither do you.”
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us looked away.
For the first time, it didn’t feel like we were two strangers arguing in the damn woods.
It felt… personal. It was like we’d been looking for a reason to hate each other long before tonight, and now we finally had one.
He didn’t let go of my hoodie, and I didn’t let go of his jacket.
Neither of us seemed interested in being the first to step back.
“You’ve got a real fucking hero complex, don’t you?” I said. “Poor Piggy can’t save everyone.”
His grip tightened, telling me that it had struck a nerve.
Who didn’t you save, cop?
“You’ve got a real problem with hearing the word no, don’t you, Jailbait?”
I laughed under my breath. “You think that’s what this is?”
“I think you saw a drunk guy and figured he’d be easy.”
The accusation landed like a punch to the gut. I wasn’t interested in raping some idiot. I was throwing him in the cellar for Natalie to sell him. Simple as that.
Something ugly twisted in my chest, and I couldn’t place the emotion.
I clicked my tongue and tried to think.
It wasn’t guilt.
I was insulted.
“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”
“I know exactly what I saw.”
“No.”
My hands gripped his jacket tighter.
“There you go again.”
His back hit the trunk of a tree before he seemed to realize he’d given ground, and I smiled. His leg was more fucked than he thought.
Interesting.
He wasn’t giving up.
He looked pissed that he’d moved at all.
“I saw a guy who could barely walk,” he said. “And I saw you leading him away from a crowded bar. You are a crazy fucking dog. And you came here to bury him. Because you’re a fucking freak.”
“Humans have free will. I didn’t lead anyone. He chose to follow. Must we keep going over this? It’s tiring”
“You weren’t stopping either. Goading and enticing. It’s like a fucking snake. What's in the cellar?”
“He wanted to talk somewhere quiet.”
“Bullshit.”
“You calling me a liar?”
“If the shoe fits.”
I smiled wide. “Careful, Pig.”
His eyes narrowed. “Or what?”
God, he was infuriating.
Every answer out of his mouth made me want to shove him again.
“Or I’ll show you what’s in the cellar personally and—”
I cut the thought off before it finished and watched his eyes as they searched mine, almost like he’d caught the split second my expression changed.
“There it is,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“You keep dropping your mask, Jailbait. Afraid I’ll see behind it?”
I scoffed. “Trust me, Pig, you’re the only one with a mask here tonight.”
His lips twitched, and he switched gears.
“You’ve been staring at me for weeks. Why haven’t you tried this little goose chase game with me? Too scared of rejection? Why look at me every Friday night?”
“I’ve been trying to decide if you’re always this annoying and pigheaded, but you’ve thoroughly answered that tonight.”
“Liar. Not so suave without your whore cheerleader, are you?”
His confidence should’ve irritated me.
Instead…
It made me step closer.
Close enough that if either of us leaned forward an inch, we’d collide with each other. He didn’t flinch when I moved within his space. He didn’t blink or even look away once.
The silence stretched between us.
Neither of us was willing to surrender.
His breathing had slowed down, but mine hadn’t. This close, I felt on fire.
“You gonna fucking move?” he asked, annoyance getting to him, along with the weight on his ankle.
“Not even close.”
“Stubborn, Jailbait. Guess it makes sense since you’re still sucking on your mama’s tit.”
His voice had dropped. Or was lower and rougher. Scraping against my every nerve. It was like he was just as tired of pretending this was a normal argument as I was, and I looked him over without meaning to.
Scuffed boots.
Broad shoulders.
Typical stupid dumb jock cop with tattoos like armor.
His stupid, stubborn jaw was set, as if he expected the entire world to disappoint him, and the perpetual frown was permanently on his face.
My eyes met his again, and he caught me looking.
His eyebrow lifted in surprise-disgust laced with the growing pain.
“What, freak?”
“Nothing.”
“You looked at me like a damn chick. Stop checking me out.”
“I looked because I was wondering if your face always looks like a puckered asshole .”
His laugh surprised me.
It was short and real, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
“You know,” he said, “for someone who claims I’m the pig…” He glanced down at the fist still wrapped around my jacket and glowered and hissed. “You haven’t let go either.”
I looked down at my hand.
He was right.
Somehow, somewhere between the shoving and the yelling, my hand had stayed exactly where it landed.
Curled in the front of his jacket.
Close enough to feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath the fabric.
I loosened my grip, but he didn’t.
Neither of us said anything now.
The air between us felt heavier than it had any right to, and I felt the thickness in my throat gather. It was like the argument had stopped being about the guy from the bar ten minutes ago, and was now something else entirely.
Us.
“You’re an asshole,” he muttered.
I held his gaze.
“I know.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“You’re not as dumb as you look then.”
Another beat of silence, and his jaw flexed while my own answered with a grin that I couldn’t quite suppress.
“Why then?” I said softly. “Why do you look back at me every Friday night?”
For the first time all night, the bully didn’t have an answer. His grip finally eased, but his eyes stayed locked on mine, hard and unreadable, as though walking away would be the smartest thing either of us could do, yet…somehow the hardest.
“You know what?” I said cautiously, cornering my new prey against the large oak tree. He was still hobbling and couldn’t get too far.” I think you want something from me. That’s why you came all this way, isn’t it, Piggy?”
Hollis narrowed his gaze and all but growled at me. He saw my movements before they happened, but it didn’t stop me.
Faster than his eyes could track, I released his jacket and dropped down, grabbing onto his bad ankle and slamming him into the ground, using my own knees to lock his head down.
“I never realized quite how pretty your eyes are. There’s something familiar about them…”
One.
Two.
Three flecks of gold.
“Familiar because you’re about to see them in hell, you freak! Get the fuck off me.”
I watched the pain etch his face as he struggled against my hold, his fucked up leg causing him to falter each time.
“Poor Piggy wee weed too far from home,” I mused, leaning forward to pull my belt out of the loops.
Snap.
The sound made Hollis freeze, and I smiled wider.
“Don’t even act like you aren’t gay. Let’s save the straight boy notion for another day, and you can just swallow my fucking cock. You made me lose my hunt for the night. You owe me.”
Hollis squirmed under me, his big ass muscled body harder to keep stationed than anyone else, but I managed anyway, using my thighs to cut off the air supply.
“Fuck…you, Jailbait!”
I giggled at the cute little nickname he’d given me the first time we’d met.
How ironic.
“Are you trying to say you’re not a bottom? C’mon, let’s see if your mouth agrees.”
It was music to my ears listening to the pig grunt as I shoved my limp dick down his throat. I didn’t trust him, so I had to keep my hands on his mouth, keeping it wide for me.
“Oh fuck—you feel like the hell you promised, Pig.” I couldn’t help but moan, feeling the heartbeat thrum in his neck on my thighs while watching his thick throat swell with saliva.
“Agh!” he choked, and I thrust harder into his warm throat, my dick growing thicker with every pump.
Fuck fuck fuck.
“Yes. That’s right. Get so wet for me. I’ll make you drown in my come just like you wanted when you stalked me tonight.”
More grunts.
So many that I started counting as each thrust blocked the sound.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Faster…
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Harder…
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
I needed more.
More…
More…
More…
I was seeing stars, and the man beneath me was going limp. With a growl, I stopped pressing my thighs so tightly against his throat and let him choke on my dick alone.
I didn’t let go
Not yet.
So close.
“Fuck, Pig. Squeal for me.”
“You freak! I’ll kill you!” he managed to force out.
Just like that, my come was painting his tongue.
I didn’t have long to revel in my victory because he was throwing me onto the ground and pummeling me into the dirt, my own come dripping off his chin as he roared at me like a beast. “How fucking dare you touch me!”
I couldn’t help but smile, even as I could feel my own oxygen cutting off now, with his knee on my neck.
I dipped my finger in the come that fell, reaching up and swirling it around on his exposed chest.
He choked me harder, and I saw the black spots starting to appear.
“No one touches me! I’ll fucking skin you.”
A cough escaped, but I finished my design.
A frowny face.
Tears were falling down his cheeks onto my face, and my own cheeks felt hot.
Hollis laughed cruelly and smiled wide. “Yeah, that’s fucking right, freak. Let me see your tears.”
I couldn’t breathe anymore. The world was going black, but did I really hear Hollis lean down to my ear and whisper,
“Paint me with your tears, Picasso.”