Chapter 19 Evie
EVIE
Five liters doesn’t sound that impressive. It’s one and a half large milk containers. Fourteen cans of soda. My high school biology teacher made it sound formidable, though. I didn’t understand why—until tonight.
Crimson sprays the ground as Mark’s lifeless body drops, but it’s the torrent of emotions trapped behind Silas’s vacant gaze that has me leaping from the motorcycle and sprinting for my life.
Clouds roll across the moon, cloaking the rocky canyon in shadow, and it takes all my concentration not to slip on the jagged terrain. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I have to keep moving. Keep running.
A crazed laugh pierces the night behind me, the crunch of Silas’s boots giving chase pushing me faster. This is my fault—Mark’s death, probably the other guy’s too. I knew Silas was unhinged, could feel the truth of his promise the moment he uttered it.
If he ever touches you again, I’ll kill him.
“Run, little fox,” Silas shouts, his voice growing fainter. Holy fuck, I might actually have a chance of getting away. “It only makes the chase more fun.”
I pump my arms, willing my boots to find purchase as I race downhill, the main road coming into view. And then the motorcycle engine rumbles to life behind me.
A scream rips from my lips as headlights blaze through the darkness. Shit. The valley’s too steep for me to leave the trail, the underbrush too thick. One misstep and I’ll slip down the side of the canyon, tumbling to the rocky shores below.
The beam of light finds me.
Double shit.
I spot a narrow trail veering left and throw myself down it, sprinting for my life. Much too late, I realize what the stretch of black ahead means. This isn’t a secondary path—it’s a look out.
I try to stop and change direction, but I slip.
Pebbles give way beneath me, gravel slicing into my thighs as I skid toward the cliff’s edge.
The ground goes out beneath my feet, the momentum carrying me forward finally slowing as my body stops moving.
Terror propels me into action as I scramble back, clawing at the dirt, dragging myself back from the brink—only to be met with the blinding glare of Silas’s motorcycle.
I stare through the light, chest heaving as he steps off, his helmet clutched in his hand.
He lets it fall, stalking forward slowly, as if enjoying my alarm.
His gloves are next, each finger peeled free with leisurely precision, the wicked grin tilting his lips suggesting he’s going to enjoy this next part.
Shallow cuts burn along my palms and legs as I start to crawl backward, only to remember there’s nothing but open air and crashing waters behind me.
For a split second I contemplate hurling myself over the edge, embracing the razor sharp rocks and angry waves below. Maybe I’d survive. Unlikely. But maybe.
As if hearing my morbid thoughts, Silas pauses, his body coiling like a cobra poised to strike. The black mask is back in place, its haunting green stitching distorted in the harsh light. I move—only an inch—but that’s all it takes for him to spring forward.
Silas lunges. His fingers close around my throat, halting my escape as he hauls me upright. He towers over me, the scent of leather and spice clinging to him like a storm, and something low in my belly burns. Heat. Want. Terror.
His knee wedges between my thighs, pressing against my exposed core, sending the fire pumping through my veins into overdrive.
“This virgin cunt is mine, Evie.”
My pulse flutters beneath his fingers. But not from fear.
I think I must be cursed. Or maybe my soul is just tainted, because I want him—the devil himself.
Every nerve in my body is alive, primed and ready for his condemning touch.
Silas just murdered a man after forcing him to go down on me, but that malicious glint in his eyes… god help me, it’s intoxicating.
“Mine to taste. Mine to finger and fuck and defile in any way I please.” His other hand ghosts across my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples through the red fabric as his jeans grind against me. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the rush of sensation, but a whimper breaks free.
“You love when I’m like this,” Silas purrs, torturing my other breast before tracing patterns down my stomach. “Isn’t that right?”
“No.” I shake my head, the movement small beneath the grip he keeps on my neck.
“Tsk,” he pouts. “You can lie to the world all you want, my Evie, but the beautiful way you’re rubbing your cunt all over me says otherwise.”
My breathing hitches as I look down, shame zapping through me when I realize he’s right. I’ve been grinding against his knee. Silas jerks my chin back up, forcing me to meet his gaze. All the green is nearly gone, replaced by a blackness so cold I almost flinch.
“If I forced you into the dirt and spread your thighs, stuffing your cunt with my cock, would you beg me to stop?” His palm cups my pussy, two fingers sliding through the slick mess between my thighs before thrusting inside me. “Or plead for more?”
I cry out at the intrusion, hating how my arousal fills the air between us.
A sick part of me enjoys the violation. Silas does something to me.
Forces me to experience and acknowledge and fucking feel—to be awake in an existence that has only ever existed in my dreams. He pushes me to admit truths that I’ve denied myself, too fearful of the eternal evil promised should I succumb to their appeal.
The concept of morality may be one I’m trying to outgrow, but it’s like teasing out the thorns of a cactus. Some barbs are so deeply embedded in my skin that it feels like I have to slice away pieces of my flesh just to be rid of them.
But Silas…
He has me welcoming the stab, craving the sharp points and bleeding wounds, because for the first time, my heart is feeling rather than simply beating.
Blood heats my cheeks as I rock against his fingers, searching for the perfect friction to grant me the salvation I’m so desperate for. His hold tightens around my neck, restricting air. My vision swims, hands gripping his forearm, but I don’t pull away. Don’t try to stop him.
“I could hold you here, suspended between life and death forever if I wanted to.” Silas drags his nose up the curve of my throat, licking away the tears staining my cheeks.
“I could use your sweet pussy or tight hole, fill up each with my cum, then make you lick my cock clean. And you would love every moment of it.”
I want to deny it, to tell him he’s delusional, but my pussy clenches around his fingers.
The haze of reality tilts as he continues his punishing pace, causing my vision to grow dark.
I’m floating in a delirious cloud of ecstasy.
Thoughts, sounds, feelings—everything vanishing except Silas’s palm grinding against my clit, pushing me to the edge.
Just as I start to fall, he withdraws.
I stumble forward, gasping for air, but the relief of breathing is nothing compared to the painful need twisting between my thighs.
“You don’t get to come, Evie.” Silas looks down at me, the blackness of his eyes matching the color of his soul. “Not when I can still smell another man on you.”
Tears prick my eyes, humiliation spilling freely down my cheeks as I drop my head. I shouldn’t even want this psychopath. This murderer. From the moment we met, Silas has been honest about being a deranged monster. I just didn’t believe him.
Silas may have the body of a god—bronzed skin and inked muscle—but he’s a beast. A demon sent to show me how beautiful the darkness can be. And like a willing sacrifice, I laid my body upon the alter, desperate to be claimed—only for him to decide I’m not worthy.
Strong arms scoop me up, setting me on the motorcycle with a softness so at odds with the rest of him. I allow him to adjust the leather jacket that smells like him, zipping it up before tucking me in close. The engine hums to life beneath me as a cool detachment settles over my soul.
“Your punishment is done, little fox,” Silas says through our helmets, a gloved hand pressing me back against his chest as we start down the canyon. But as we turn onto the highway, with my thighs trembling and pussy aching with need, I know my sentence has only just begun.