Chapter 29
CROSS
We brought her here for the chase, for the panic, for the way she’ll run when she finally realizes she’s trapped in the woods with us.
We craved to see her fear on display, to revel in the power of our control over her, but the moment we set her down on the cold leaves, I began to worry that we’d pushed her too far.
She’s our prey, our plaything, and we’ve overestimated her endurance with the ‘G’ floating through her system.
A surge of unreasonable rage fills me at being thwarted, and denied my pleasure, and at that worried look across River’s empathetic face.
He’s catching feelings for her, and I can’t allow that to continue, fuck his guilty conscience.
He belongs to me, to Mayhem, and not her.
She’s fucking nothing. Even as I try to reassure myself and cement that belief in my mind, I feel my conviction fracturing.
There’s something about Olivia Springhill that defies all logic and understanding.
We barely know her, yet it’s like she’s managing to make it under each of our skins, burrowing deeply so we can’t get her out.
She’s a toxic parasite, and I won’t allow her to infect and change us.
Olivia’s now limp as a discarded doll, her head rolling against the leaves strewn on the ground, after the deviant fucker had a taste of her.
A part of me wants to grab one of the thick discarded branches, and bash his head in for being brazen, and touching her.
She’s fucking mine, my new sister, my fucking pet.
Yet, I keep my lips sealed and my hands fisted tightly at my sides, refusing to give in to the temptation to start a war with my best friend over this inconsequential woman.
The moonlight cuts sinisterly through the semi-naked branches above us, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor, and making the hairs at my nape stand on end.
It paints her smooth, pale skin in silver streaks, that make her look unreal, like something the forest has decided to keep for its own.
The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, adding to the surreal atmosphere.
My fingers itch to trace over the shattered heart tattooed on the side of her abdomen, and the angel with its wings torn off on her back, and I wonder about their significance in her life.
Does it represent someone that died, and left scars with their passing, or worse, a fucking guy that broke her heart?
The need to find this imaginary fucker, and rip his heart out of his chest, is almost overwhelming, and I have to force myself to take a deep breath, and calm my racing heart.
I don’t give a shit, it’s not important, I try my best to convince myself, even as I fail at the task.
“She’s too out of it,” Damon growls, dragging his hands through his inky hair with frustration, as he stands up and begins to pace, like he needs to burn off the aggravation.
I watch as his hazel eyes search the shadows, filled with the fear he’s trying to hide.
“This isn’t the level we wanted. She’s useless like this. ”
“She’ll wake,” I reply with annoyance, but my tone doesn’t sound convincing to my own ears. “Just give her a sec, the cold air will help.”
We give her a minute and then another. Nothing.
Our breaths fog in front of us with the cool air, and I’m beginning to worry that River might have a point, and the bitch will die from hypothermia, and I’ll have to explain to my father why my new unwanted sister is dead.
The urgency of the situation is palpable, and I can feel the tension radiating off all of us.
Olivia’s breathing is slow, shallow, steady enough as it rises and falls, like she’s drifting somewhere far from us, somewhere we can’t reach. Her lashes flutter like she’s trapped in a nightmare. Fuck, not ideal, not for what we came out here for.
“Come on,” River squats down next to her and mutters, shaking her shoulders.
“Wake up, Hellstorm, please.” Her body rocks uselessly in his grip.
No resistance. No panic. No spark of awareness.
“Cross, she’s too cold, we have to redress her and get her out of here.
Maybe there was too much of the drug in the water bottle. ”
“How are we supposed to chase her, if she can’t even fucking stand right now?” Damon curses, and kicks a fallen branch in anger, sending it crashing against a nearby tree like a toddler having a tantrum.
A prickle of guilt crawls up my throat, unwelcome, and too familiar.
We didn’t bring her out here for this, not to watch her sleep, certainly not watch her die of exposure to the elements.
I won’t be denied my prize, and vengeance for all the shit she’s pulled, since arriving in Soule.
The memory of her defiant expression, as she described getting fucked hard by Sim to my father enters my mind, and I lose what little restraint I have left, as growing panic settles on my skin.
I kneel down beside her, brushing her soft purple and brown hair off her face.
Her skin is still slightly warm, but it won’t be long before that changes out here.
She doesn’t flinch or turn toward my hand.
If it weren’t for her closed eyelids fluttering, the warm breath escaping her nose, and the occasional small whimper leaving her lips, I would think she was dead.
The guilt hits hard for a second, sharp, honest, human, but right under it, something else stirs.
That dark curl of anticipation, with sharp talons digging into my very soul, that I keep pretending that I don’t feel.
The idea of her suddenly jerking awake, eyes wide with terror, and realizing she is alone with us, in the dark woods, with no one around to hear her scream, fuck, that’s glorious.
It sends a rush through me that I don’t want to acknowledge, but I can’t look away from either, and I feel my cock strain in my pants.
She needs to wake and fulfill my fantasies; that’s what she’s here for.
Her new purpose in life is to please me, her stepbrother, and new owner.
I distinctly hear a zipper sliding open, and I have to force my glance away from Olivia.
When I look over at Damon, he’s moved back toward her, standing just past her hip with his massive cock in his hands.
Before I can do anything other than dart away or utter a word, the fucker starts to urinate on her, coating her stomach and legs in his piss.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, asshole? !” I growl as I rise to confront him.
“Riv said she was too cold. I’m fixing that. My piss is nice and hot, and should do the trick.” Oh my fucking god, this guy is beyond psychotic.
“You’re a fucking idiot. She’s going to be colder than before. What the hell is the matter with you, Damon?” I demand as he tucks his cock back into his pants, and darts out of reach of my fist with a scowl. I’m starting to wonder if putting Damon down wouldn’t be a small mercy on the world.
River slaps her cheek lightly, after giving Damon a disgusted look.
“Livy. Open your eyes. Come on, beautiful, do it right now.” Her eyelids flutter, but just barely in response, and a soft sound escapes her, like something is hurting her inside her dream.
My chest tightens, but I ignore the sensation, knowing full well there is no going back from here.
Damon crouches on her other side, and I give him a wary look, with the promise of violence, if he tries any more of his unhinged antics. “If we had something to wake her...”
“Like what?” I snap, completely done with his shit. “You think I’m hiding adrenaline shots in my boots? Those wouldn’t work anyway, fucker. She needs to come out of it on her own.”
“I want her alert,” Damon hisses, “I want her terrified.”
River lifts her chin just enough to keep her airway clear, and her lips part slightly under his thumb, before he slips it inside of her mouth and coats her lips with her saliva.
Watching that shouldn’t be doing anything to me, but fuck it does.
I can feel beads of precum sliding down my engorged crown, and pressing against the fabric of my boxers.
“She’s breathing fine,” I mutter, mainly to calm myself, and not them.
“She’s stuck in the dream part. She’ll come out of it, stop acting like little bitches. ”
“Not fast enough,” Damon shoots back, his voice tinged with desperation.
“We can’t afford to wait. We need her awake, we need her terrified.
Now.” His head turns side to side, his eyes too large, and showing too much white, and I watch with a mixture of curiosity and terror, as he punches the air next to him.
Did this fucker take his meds today? What am I saying, of course he didn’t, he refuses to take those.
Is he still high from all the shit he took last night?
I thought River was going to start to hide antipsychotics in blunts, to get him under some semblance of control.
“We wait,” I demand, my voice falling flat even to my own ears, as I move to place myself closer to Olivia and River, in case Damon is losing it more than usual.
I don’t really know if waiting will fix this, or make things worse.
What if she dies? The thought pierces my mind.
Then she dies, and we leave her out here for the animals to feast on.
Olivia whimpers again, this trembling, broken sound, like she’s begging someone in her dream to stop hurting her.
Her dark brows pinch together, and her breathing hitches.
For a second, she looks completely terrified, and so young and vulnerable that I desire to hold her in my arms, and reassure her that she’s fine, even though I know I’m about to be the villain in her waking nightmare.
River inhales sharply beside her, his fingers tracing soft patterns across her cheek. “Thank fuck! There, that’s it. She’s close to waking now.”
Damon leans in, eyes bright with hunger. “Wake up, unhinged princess. Come on. Come back to us.”
I swallow hard, staring at her face, so peaceful one second, so haunted the next. I don’t know what scares me more. The thought of her opening her eyes, and seeing exactly what we’ve brought her out here for… or the thought that she might stay asleep, and escape it entirely.
Either way, the game hasn’t even started yet, and the woods are holding their breath with us.