Chapter 23
Make It Hurt, Cowboy
PREACHER
I’m a better hunter when I’m riled up like this.
Everything is louder, more intense, more beautiful.
And I’m more deadly.
I can smell the earth, and feel the gentle rain pattering against my skin.
It’s warm and sweet, but it’ll turn to thunder soon enough.
The sun has fully set now, leaving only the moonlight to guide me.
I won’t even need it, though. I can tell you exactly how many trees you have to pass by to get to the edge of these woods.
I can also tell you that she’s headed for the cabin just ahead. Hopefully, she finds the surprise I left for her.
I move carefully through the trees, the coiled rope still clutched in my hand as I hop over logs and brush.
Right now, it’s deathly quiet, and I’m a little surprised.
I was anticipating another scream or a yelp, or for her to shoot out of the dark like a terrified deer.
Maybe she’s got it together more than I thought she did.
If she’s smart, she’ll go on the offensive once she’s found a way to get her bearings, instead of trying to hide from me on my own property. She might even have a shot if she pulls herself together. I know she’s powerful. Hell, I know she’s ruthless enough to cut a man’s tongue out.
“Raaaaabiiiit,” I sing as I approach the cabin. “Come out, come out.”
I love a woman with some fight in her, and I want to see exactly how much of it she’s got.
I come to a stop at the front stoop, glancing around. No movement, no noise in the distance, just the sound of my own breath pushing against my mask. She’s been here, though, that much is obvious.
I kick the door open, letting the loud bang echo through the little wooden rooms as I step inside. The sound of my spurs knocking ominously against the wood is enough to make me shiver, so I can only imagine what she’s feeling right now.
She could do anything.
I haven’t lasso’d someone or something in a few years now, but Ripley makes me want to dive back into my old bag of tricks and pull out some of the really sick shit I used to do when I first started down this path.
One time, I chased a guy all the way down to the water, let him get real close before I lasso’d him and took him out with a buck shot.
The idea of giving him some hope, letting him think he was just a few heartbeats away from freedom…
It was exhilarating. But over the years, everything that goes into my kills has become more routine, partially because of what my clients request, sure, but I’m getting older.
You tend to get stuck in your ways with age.
Thankfully, she’s bringing back that old spark.
I move through the house quietly, avoiding all the creaky floorboards just like I used to when I was a boy.
Raphael and I used to play hide and seek in this cabin, and ran around every square inch of it, or so we thought.
My daddy built it with his bare hands, all the way down to digging out a little basement…
and I didn’t find out why until I cleaned it out after he’d died.
He killed a woman here, and left her in a shallow grave downstairs. I have no idea who she was, or when it happened, all I found of her was some red hair, bones and a pretty floral dress. I took what was left deep into these woods, and buried her far away from the evil that was done to her.
I never found another body, and I never figured out if it was only a one-time thing or something more. Maybe he realized killing wasn’t as fun as what he was doing to all of us back at home. Either way, my rage toward my father only grew deeper.
I creep up the stairs, slowly and carefully crafting a slipknot in the rope without even taking my eyes off the top of the staircase. I can do this part in my sleep, easy as pie. I just hope I still remember how to lasso a moving target.
When I reach the landing I scan the room, the moonlight leaking in through the busted window making it all that much easier as it illuminates…
Nothing.
I take a step forward, muscles coiled and ready for a fight that doesn’t come. Instead, all that greets me is my gun, sitting on the floor right below the message I scrawled for her.
“What kind of game are you playing—”
A harrowing roar fills the room like wildfire, and I feel something slam into the back of the neck, knocking me to my knees. The pain is intense, shooting all the way down my spine as my palms slam against the floor.
Ripley’s throaty cackle makes the hair on my neck stand up, but I don’t have any time to waste, leaping to my feet and whirling around ready to fight, only to be struck to the floor again.
The mask takes most of the force this time, but whatever she’s using is hard enough that it cracks the more brittle bones of the bull skull, and I’m still feeling a decent chunk of the impact.
A couple more like that and I might be in trouble.
Through the haze, Ripley finally comes into focus, all heaving breaths, matted hair, and fury. A glimmer of pride bursts through my pain, and I can’t help but let out a chuckle as I dodge her next swing, making it back to my feet.
It’s a fucking kettle.
I thought I threw that rusted piece of shit out ages ago, but obviously not. The way it’s rattling around, sounds like she’s filled it with rocks, too.
“Very clever, rabbit,” I smirk. “But you’ll need to hit harder than that.”
Instead of taking the bait she begins to circle me, looking surprisingly calm as her dark hair obscures her face. All I see is one icy eye, looking like it could freeze me right in place.
She told me that for her, killing felt like being possessed, and right now? I believe it. She moves like water, unpredictable yet still confident, letting those years of suppressed animal instinct take over.
“What are you waiting for?” She growls. “I thought you said you were going to make it hurt, cowboy. All I see is you standing there like a bitch.”
Her lip curls into a cocky little grin, and I wait for that inflated sense of confidence to kick in. It always happens, especially early on. I want her to think she’s won, because that’ll be the biggest weakness I can take advantage of.
I lunge for her, leaving just enough of an opening to ensure she’ll take a chance, and of course she does.
She bellows as she moves in with a powerful strike that lands right in the middle of the skull, ringing out with a sickening crack.
I stumble back, raising my arms in faux-defeat as I slam into the wall.
“Come on!” She roars, striding toward me. “Can’t fight back?!”
Add with a few more pained groans and I’ve got her right where I want her.
She lunges a final time, in what I’m sure would have been a devastating blow if it ever had any chance of landing.
Instead, I move into it, kicking her legs out from underneath her, and watching as she tumbles to the ground with a surprised grunt.
Her makeshift weapon rolls across the room, clattering against the back wall and scattering the packed stones and pebbles all over the floor.
I pin her to the ground, my hands wrapped firmly around her wrists before she even knows what’s happened.
The mask is cracked and crushed in places, but still only slightly obscures my vision.
I can see her clearly: my perfect prey, struggling and growling as she tries to fight me with every shred of strength she has left.
The fear in her eyes makes my heart flutter.
Unfortunately, a knee to the gut cuts that feeling real fuckin’ short, and I collapse on top of her, the two of us restarting our little tussle on the ground. Her strength surprised me, but I can already tell there’s no way I can lose.
But then, she surprises me again; the rush I get when she pins me down is unlike any drink or drug I’ve ever had.
She looks like a fucking animal, water dripping off of her hair and onto my naked torso, her thighs clamping down around my waist, squeezing hard like a vice.
I can feel her pressed against my raging hard cock as she wraps her hand around my throat.
Then, she starts to move her hips, grinding against me, panting as she sinks her nails deep into my skin and drags them down my chest. I’m a little surprised she pulled the seduction card this early.
Honestly, I thought she’d save it until she was a breath away from defeat.
Still, I can’t complain: a beautiful woman writhing on top of me while she glares into my eyes like she wants to slit my throat?
I think I’m in heaven.
“Did I win?” She drawls.
“We’re still playing, little rabbit.”
Her eyes darken, hooking into mine as she grinds down harder onto me, her maniacal giggles flooding the room like smoke.
“Are you sure about that?” Her voice sounds huskier than usual as she leans in close. “It looks like you might have lost.”
My dick is so sensitive that I'm afraid to move. Nothing would ruin this moment more than coming in my goddamn pants while I’m trying to play tough. Ripley would never let me live it down.
A shock of lighting flashes outside the window, followed quickly by the deafening crack of thunder, and the rain begins to pound harder against the roof. It seems like mother nature is just as excited as we are.
Ripley peels off her shirt and tosses it aside, giving me a damn clean view of her tits. There are little scars spread across the two of them, like someone’s burned her with cigarettes.
I grimace.
I wish we’d killed Gabriel together.
“Are you ready to give up?” She squeezes down on my throat again, purposefully pressing on my windpipe this time. “Because you can’t seem to hide how much you want me, cowboy.”
There’s not an ounce of shame in her eyes as she starts to rock her hips back and forth, her pussy threatening to leave a damp spot on the front of my jeans, but I stay silent, not wanting to let her know how much she’s affecting me.
Unfortunately, with her hands wrapped so tightly around my neck, I know she can feel my pulse racing.
“Imagine if I was riding your cock like this,” she moans. “Taking you nice and deep like a good little whore.”
She releases my throat, wrapping her hands around the horns of the bull skull as she starts to buck her hips. Shit, it feels good. Too good. My breathing gets heavier and heavier as I struggle to maintain control.
But Ripley? She’s riding me with total abandon, not a worry in the world.
“Don’t you want me to?” Her voice is gentle and low in my ear. “Don’t you want to feel how tight I am? How wet I am for you, cowboy?”
Searing heat fills my belly, and I clench my abs as tight as I can, but it’s no use. I’m gonna come.
And she knows it.
“I can feel how close you are,” she breathes, grinding down harder. “Just let me win and I’m yours.”
I’m so screwed. My vision is going fuzzy at the edges and I’m sweating like a motherfucker under this mask. The friction is becoming too much to bear, and I can feel my balls start to tighten.
This woman is fucking relentless.
“I’ll let you do anything to me. You can put it in my ass too, you fucking pervert.” Her tits sway right in my face, the two of us completely covered in sweat. “I bet you’d love that. You know I’ll be screaming for you, baby”
Well shit.
My climax feels like a burst of fireworks, my back arching as I cry out, but I barely get the time to enjoy myself before I hear a terrifying primal roar.
Ripley rears back, wrenching at my mask violently until there’s a brutal crack.
I barely have time to register the snapped-off bull horn in her hand before she’s wild-eyed and manic, driving it straight into my shoulder.
I hear my own howl of pain come out like it’s part of the raging storm outside, a humiliating mix of rage and confusion. I got bested by my own goddamn dick.
“How did you like that shit, cowboy?”
In a flash, she’s on her feet, rushing down the stairs, and then there’s the sound of the cabin door slamming behind her.
And I’m left… Well, dumbfounded doesn’t really begin to cover it.
I stare at the ceiling with cloudy vision, and the blood roaring in my ears.
My heart is beating so fast, my body ready to act, but my mind is struggling to process what the fuck just happened.
Blood oozes from the wound, but luckily she only managed to get about an inch of the tip in.
It hurts like a motherfucker though, and the ache I’m feeling is making me pretty certain she smashed right through a good chunk of bone, and into muscle.
It’s hard not to feel a twinge of pride, even if that pride hurts like a son of a bitch.
“You might win this thing after all, little rabbit,” I mutter, pushing myself up to my elbows.
“Come out, come out, Preacher!”
I snort, shaking my head as I struggle back to my feet.
“God, she’s a pain in my ass.”
But she’s mine.
I let out a haggard breath, shuddering through the agony as I pull the broken horn from my shoulder. Blood dribbles down my arm, and I scoop it up with my fingers, smearing it across what remains of the skull.
And I breathe.
In.
And out.
In.
And out.
“What’s going on in there? You scared, or are you already dead?”
I can’t help but laugh as snatch up her discarded gun, staggering toward the staircase to check behind the bannister. Sure enough, it’s still there: the single bullet I left for her, carefully tucked away.
“Just the opposite, sweetheart. I’ve never felt more alive.”