30. Tess
TESS
Staring out the window, I still couldn’t make sense of what had happened after Fright Night. I hadn’t mentioned it to Blade, not because I wasn’t allowed to. I just honestly had no idea how I felt about it.
Even a few days later, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The way the cast had felt warm on my pussy, how focused Nash had been.
The strangeness of it had made me more inclined to win my prize.
I didn’t mind living with Nash and Blade. They were nice, kind. And undeniably hot. Even after Nash had used me for her arts and crafts, she’d made sure I was set up in bed. Blade and she had brought me a heat pack, some pain killers, and toast to settle my stomach.
They kept walking around shirtless, sweaty after a workout. No one had ever fucked me the way Blade had. And I couldn’t pretend like the thought of her touch on my body wasn’t occupying most of my nights.
But if Nash and Blade had such specific demands for their nights with me, I knew that Cyrus’s would be even more intense.
And besides what she wanted with me on Fright Night, Cyrus was a bitch. She was curt, rude. I had no interest in playing nice if she wasn’t going to go along with it.
The sound of a closing door shook my gaze from the window. Grabbing my coffee off the machine, I turned to look at who was coming down the hall.
Nash, fresh from a shower, appeared in the kitchen. Her hair was a bit longer when wet, but it wouldn’t be long before her tight curls bounced back. A charming smile teased the corners of her lips as she met my gaze. “Hey, Sweet Lamb.”
My eyes dropped to her arms. Shimmering from a post-shower lotion, her muscles looked extra defined.
Fuck.
Nash raised an eyebrow, leaning against the kitchen counter to strain her forearms just a little more. The lightning and spider webs crawled across the mountains of her muscles.
“Like what you see?” Licking her lips, Nash’s eyes were glued to me.
I shook my head, taking a sip of coffee. “It’s fine.”
Scoffing, Nash threw herself off the counter and bent her arm at a ninety degree angle, flexing her bicep. “What the hell? Not doing it for you?” As she tensed her arms, a small frog on her bicep looked like it was dancing.
It was an odd tattoo for her to have, something so silly mixed in with her array of spider webs.
Setting my mug down, I reached across the counter and grabbed at the strong muscle. She barely flinched under the weight of my tug and my center pulsed at the feeling of her skin on mine.
“What’s this?”
Nash smirked. “A coqui. Small frog, indigenous to Puerto Rico.”
My curiosity piqued. I didn’t often ask the Freaks many questions about themselves. But this was too odd to let lie. “Is that where your family is from?”
Her face fell suddenly, her jaw tensing. “Something like that.”
Blade appeared behind us. “Ready to go, bro?”
“Yep.” With a wink, Nash pulled her arm away.
“Wait, where are you headed?” I asked, more desperate than I would have liked. Cyrus had left early that morning, off to “work” — whatever that meant. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in this huge apartment alone.
I was already too bored for my own good and despite myself, I’d rather spend the day out with these two feral captors than cooped up here.
Blade wiggled her eyebrows. “Errands.”
Without saying more, the two of them headed for the door. But as they reached for the knob, I shouted after them. “Wait! Can I come?”
Blade turned around first, surprise written all over her face. “Really? You want to?”
“It’s boring shit.” Nash explained, watching me carefully.
Laughing, I walked closer. “What? Why is that surprising? The alternative is I stay locked up in your little haunted fairytale tower like some Grimm-ass princess. Yeah, no thanks. I’ll just come with.”
“You’ll just run, no?” Nash’s brows pressed together.
Shaking my head, I stuck my hands in my pockets, hoping I’d look more innocent. “I think you all underestimate how much I could do with $20k. I’d really rather not go back to any of the places I used to stay. Not very glamorous.”
Blade licked her lips. “She’s not going anywhere, she likes what we have to give her. Isn’t that right, Trinket?”
I rolled my eyes, bothered by it. But it also wasn’t a total lie. Even if I was reluctant to admit it.
When I didn’t answer, Nash grabbed her keys and threw open the door. “Fuck it. If you try to run, I’ll chase you through the streets anyway. After you, Sweet Lamb.”
She held the door open, letting me pass while keeping an eye on Butch, who looked eager for an afternoon stroll.
Hot on my tail, Blade zipped out of the apartment and through the rainforest-themed restaurant below.
Outside, it was sunny and the warmth of late August hit my skin.
Nash walked us around to a utility building behind the jungle decor that lined the paths of Jungle Jolt. Reaching down for the garage door, Nash lifted the gate.
“Holy shit.” I gawked at the expansive garage, a few cars crammed inside.
At the front, a huge, pitch-black Cadillac Escalade. I’d seen cars like it around Valemont before, unsure what kind of person drove such a massive car.
Every once in a while, a decked out Escalade would appear in the parking lot of the club.
Was it my Freaks?
“Hop in, Trinket.” Blade pulled open the front passenger door, dramatically gesturing into the car.
Swallowing hard, I walked into the dark garage. Behind the Escalade, a trim sports car made its home next to a sleek sedan. I hadn’t seen this many nice cars next to each other often, if ever.
Where the fuck is this money coming from?
I needed to start digging for answers, just so I knew where my blood money would come from. If I was going to stay here, to accept their games, I wanted to know who might take an interest in my newfound wealth.
Once I was in the car, my thighs sticking to the black leather seats, Blade closed the door and slid into the back seats while Nash hopped into the driver's seat.
She passed me the aux cord. “Anything you want, Sweet Lamb.”
Plugging my phone in, I hesitantly scrolled through my music library for something to put on. But honestly, I had no idea what kind of vibe my two captors liked. What did two lesbians who hunted women in an abandoned amusement park listen to?
Eventually, I settled on a random mix of a few more alternative artists.
Nash pulled the car out of the garage, clicking a button to close the gate behind us before slowly driving down the cobblestone paths toward the main entrance. She diverged down a small service path to a wrought iron gate that swung open as the Cadillac approached.
My heart raced in my chest, realizing just how long it had been since I’d been out in the world. Two weeks felt like a lifetime. The isolation was in some sense a comfort, I was trapped in Feverpoint and there was no need to schmooze the clowns that kept me here.
As we pulled onto the main road and headed toward Valemont, Nash’s fingers tapped along to my music on the steering wheel.
In the bright daylight, she looked shockingly normal.
Despite the sleeves of intricate tattoos and snake bite piercings, Nash looked like she belonged in Valemont proper, not hiding away in some evil lair.
I couldn’t stop myself from admiring her chiseled jaw, the warm brown skin glowing in the sun.
My eyelids fluttered remembering how she’d looked when I was on my knees. More commanding, there was more dominance in her voice, in the way she held her body and she directed me onto the tray.
Shaking the thought, my eyes were drawn to the pedestrians walking down Valemont’s streets.
The town was busy, something that had gone away for a while as the motorcycle gang regained control. It was always quieter in the summers, most of the college kids from Atwood University back home until the fall semester began.
But now, tourists roamed the streets again.
Everything was going back to normal. One way or another.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my brows furrowing as we passed through town.
Blade leaned forward, sticking her head in the space between Nash and I. “Grocery shopping.”