Chapter 32
OLLY
I've managed to gain some distance between them and me, after running and hiding for hours, and the dark night sky is about to give way to deep purples, and hints of dark orange.
It would be beautiful to stare up at it if I weren't so exhausted, and being hunted.
The forest blurs, one moment, the trees are solid, black pillars around me…
and the next, they sway like they're made of bending glass.
My body begs for rest as the ground tilts under my feet, and I stumble hard, catching myself on a trunk slick with cold moss, my fingers slipping from my terrified, precarious perch. No, not now, I have to keep going.
I blink, but my eyelids feel heavy, glued down by whatever's left of the poison they forced into me, and the adrenaline that is beginning to wane, and causing massive exhaustion to weigh me down.
The fatigue hits like a wave sliding over me, cold, thick, dizzying, and dragging me into the abyss, as it whispers at me to just lie down, and let darkness swallow me.
My body, aching and trembling, is a testament to the brutality of their pursuit.
They won't let me go, but I'm desperate to survive, and I can't let them win.
My trembling knees buckle, and I can't seem to stop them.
My vision pulses in and out, the forest disappearing and reappearing before me.
My racing heart staggers in my chest, painful and sharp, as if it wants to crawl out of its cavity and flee, leaving me behind in these woods to my fate.
I struggle with desperation to inhale much-needed oxygen, as if my body can't even seem to regulate that on its own.
"No... no... stay awake," I whisper-gasp, gripping the tree with desperation, until my nails rip and I feel a cold tear slide down my cheek.
I've almost made it. The sun is rising, and I'm so close to getting out of here.
I force my tired legs to take another step, heading in what I hope is the right direction toward civilization.
My head spins again, and my numb, bare feet tangle in a hidden root, causing me to stumble forward.
My reflexes are not quick enough to prevent my landing, and my head hits the base of a large tree trunk.
I inhale the stench of earth and rotting vegetation, as I try to force myself to get back to my feet.
The exhaustion, what's left of the drug, and fear swamping me, are all conspiring against me, pulling me toward the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.
I'll just rest here for a quick moment. I've gained enough ground against them that it should be fine.
A shout splits the remaining night, bringing me back to awareness, and panic engulfs me.
I raise my weary head and look around with terror.
How long have I been out? It had to be just a few minutes, right?
Dread fills my stomach as I gaze upon the sky, and realize it's much lighter than when I last looked at it.
Shit, I've been out cold for who knows how long, and by the sounds quickly heading my way, they've caught up to me.
Stupid, stupid fucking mistake, Olly, I chastise myself.
I stagger to my feet, my legs feeling like they're made out of spaghetti, as I stumble toward a copse of trees to hide myself in.
My ankle aches even through the numbness, letting me know my fall must have caused damage.
I force air through my lungs even though my ribs ache, and after taking a quick glimpse down at my mud-caked body, I realize I must have slammed harder into the ground than I thought.
One side of my abdomen is already turning an ugly shade of red.
Fuck, here's hoping I haven't broken anything.
I take another step and then another, my will to survive stronger than my body's demand for rest, but I'm now moving much slower, the pain rising inside of me, until I have to grit my teeth to smother the cries that are trying to escape me.
Hide, my brain shrieks, as the sound of rustling tree limbs gets louder and louder.
"There!" Damon's voice is close and sharp, giving me a last little boost of energy. I have to get away from him; he's a predator that will tear me apart without a moment's hesitation.
He must have spied me, and is watching with victory, as I wobble like a defeated animal.
I force my legs to move, but they feel as if they're underwater.
My body lags behind my brain, to my horror, denying my urgent need to escape this nightmare.
My aching feet drag through the leaves, unsteady and clumsy, as branches snap behind me and hurried footsteps pound the earth.
Fuck, he's running toward me. I have to get out of here.
I lurch forward, slipping down a shallow embankment, catching myself on roots that scrape the remainder of my palms bloody, and scratch my shins.
Terror fogs everything, forcing the edges of my consciousness to be mushy, and sounds to warp, and the forest spins like a nightmare I can't claw out of.
Dizziness assails me once more, forcing me to slow further, and I feel myself about to collapse.
No, I can't let it end like this. I can't let them hurt me.
"Don't fight it, unhinged princess!" Damon calls, his voice so close it makes the hairs at my nape stand on end, and I try to force my vision to clear enough to see him in his pink fucked up mask. "Just stop. You're gonna fall..."
I don't halt, refusing to heed his words, or focus on the hint of concern I hear distinctly in his tone.
I trip over another hidden root and fall to my knees, mud splashing up my skin, and coating my breasts and neck.
Fury fills me at my weakness, and failure to escape them.
I scramble to stand, but my legs won't respond fast enough, and I fear my ankle won't hold my weight.
A hand swipes the air behind me, and fingertips graze my arm.
Dammit, he's close enough to touch me. Panic detonates in my gut.
"NOOOO!" I twist, grabbing the nearest thing I can, a broken, jagged branch on the ground, and with my remaining strength, I fling it backward as hard as my shaking arms allow.
It connects with a sickening crack, and Damon releases a grunt.
Not loud, more shocked than injured, but enough to buy me the precious seconds I desperately need.
I dare to dart a glance over one of my shoulders, fear crawling across my limbs like insects as he drops to one knee, mask now askew, clutching his forearm where the branch scraped deep, and bright red blood oozes from the tear in his black shirt.
His furious gaze meets mine, and I feel a shiver of terror run down my spine. "You little..."
I'm already scrambling away, half-running, half-crawling, my body begging me to stop, while my mind insists we keep going, and defeat pulls at me like invisible chains. "Keep... going..." I mumble out loud, trying to urge myself to go faster.
Damon's shouting now for the others, and I can hear the anger and humiliation in his malignant tone. "I found her! She's injured, but she fucking hit me... stupid, violent bitch."
A large body crashes through the trees like a violent storm, voice unhinged. "WHERE IS SHE?!" The fury in Cross's voice chills me worse than the cold air on my naked flesh. "Which way did she go, Damon?!"
"Down there," Damon snarls, "She got me with a branch!"
"You let her hit you?" Cross demands, but I'm too busy crawling on my hands and knees toward a grouping of bushes to look backward.
I hear something break, wood maybe, then heavy footfalls pound closer.
I force my body to duck behind a thicket, my legs and arms trembling violently, as all my aches and pains try to drag me into darkness again.
Stay awake, or you'll die out here! I urge myself silently.
Cross's rage vibrates through the trees like heat, and it pulls a small, satisfied smile to my lips.
Nothing about this situation is amusing in the slightest, but I fear that if I really allow myself to feel all my emotions, I'll end up sobbing, and in the fetal position.
His anger is a small victory, and I hold on to it with all of the energy I have left.
They thought that it would be easy to force me to succumb to them, but they were wrong.
"I swear to FUCKING GOD, when I find her..."
"Cross!" River's voice slices through the chaos, low and dangerous, and I find myself holding my breath in response. "Rein it fucking in."
"Don't fucking tell me to rein it in!" Cross screams back. "She's making fools of us!"
You are fools and monsters. I see their shadows through the brush.
Cross is pacing like a caged animal, mask pulled up on his head, chest heaving, fists clenching and unclenching, like he's picturing my neck in their grasp.
Damon is nursing his arm, glaring into the woods like he wants to rip them apart, and mumbling to himself, and River stands between them, the only one not panting, his body still and listening.
In that moment, I realize I'm more terrified of him than the other two.
He's predatory and calculating, his body and senses tuned to listen for my movements, as he controls himself and his emotions.
My suspicions are confirmed, when he utters his next words that bring a cold chill down my spine.
"She's close," River murmurs, head tilting with that disturbing green mask on his face, like he can hear my heartbeat trembling in the air, and I instantly hold my breath so hard it hurts, and my ribs spasm in protest.
Cross spins around, facing the other two, his face wild and filled with venom. "I'm done playing this game, River. I'M DONE. I'll drag her out by her hair if I have to..."
River steps in fast, throwing his mask to the ground, grabbing Cross's shirt, and shoving him back into a tree. The rage across his angelic, handsome face is palpable, and his almost white blond hair shines in the diminishing moonlight. "Get. Control. Now."
The air crackles with violence and tension, and I feel my core tightening in response.
The image of them coming to physical blows over me, something primal and erotic, is weaving its way around me like a depraved spell.
How can I be attracted to any of this? This is not only wrong, but it's also utterly unhinged.
These men are not white knights out to save me, they are the big, bad wolves that wish to eat me.
They want to hurt me, not because I've done anything to them, but because they can.
Cross shoves River, his lips peeling back in a snarl that resembles the animal I just pictured him as. "Don't you fucking touch me, River."
"Get a hold of yourself and try to think clearly, you're allowing your emotions to control you, and that's not you, Cross. She's still drugged, and Damon says she's injured," River snaps, voice low but furious. "If you chase her like this, you'll kill her."
"GOOD." The word is a snarl. A dark confession. A viable threat. I swallow a cry, doing my best not to give myself away. Why does he hate me so much? Why are they doing this to me?
River's jaw tightens with visible wrath, and I don't know if he's angry on my behalf, or that he hasn't managed to find me yet. "We need her alive."
"For what?" Cross spits with vexation, as he drags his tattooed fingers through the mess of his dark blonde hair. "To run again? To continue to defy us at every turn?"
"To finish what we started," River says quietly.
"Not destroy it. I want her under me, screaming my name while I fill every inch of her, and my hands wrapped tightly around her pretty throat, removing her ability to breathe.
I want you and Damon to help me fill the remainder of her holes, until her defiance leaves her, and she realizes that she belongs to Mayhem now. "
His words evoke a hedonistic image in my mind that I can't deter.
I can almost feel his hand tightening around my neck, as his body presses into me, and his cock thrusts with violence inside of me.
I picture the other two touching me, filling me up in my remaining holes until I'm so full of the three of them, that I can't tell where one of us begins and ends.
My breath is now releasing in short pants for a completely different reason, and I'm ashamed to admit my core is spasming, and my pussy is soaked.
Just when I'm trying to break whatever spell River's words are weaving in my obviously injured mind, River grasps Cross by the neck and pulls him into his body violently, until they're chest to chest. His fingers tighten around Cross's tattooed neck, and his lips crash down on his mouth with a warring violence that Cross meets with his own.
River's other hand grabs onto Cross's ass, pushing him tighter against his body, and even from where I'm crouched, I can see the heat coming off the two of them.
My lips open and close with fascination.
Never would I have guessed that these two were together like this.
Cross pulls back from the passionate kiss, his breathing fractured into sharp, jagged pieces. He stares down at River with an expression I can't read, as his fingers rise gently and cup River's jaw tenderly. "You belong to me, River Brackley, you shouldn't forget that."
River leans forward, his lips brushing Cross's, before biting down on his bottom lip and eliciting a groan from the other large man. He releases his hold on Cross's hair, and drags his hand down the front of his body, before grabbing Cross's tenting cock and squeezing. "Right back at you, brother."
I'm so entranced by the two of them that I don't realize I've lost sight of the third one, and I no longer see him in the same clearing. I'm just about to risk crawling further back in the brush when my ass slams into something hard, and all the air vacates my lungs.
"There's nowhere left to run, unhinged princess, you're ours now."