5. Somebody’s Watching Me
CHAPTER FIVE
Somebody’s Watching Me
"Wider for me, baby. Spread wider."
With her arms wrapped around broad, muscular shoulders, Deja's fingers dug into soft flesh as she held on tightly.
Her legs clung to his waist as her body rocked violently into the bed.
With both hands roughly gripping her ass, his dick penetrated her so fast, so hard, and so deep she cried out each time his pelvis met hers in a violent thrust.
Deja bit down on his shoulder in a mixture of pain and pleasure before she felt his fingers entangle in her hair and roughly yank her head back. She looked up at him wide-eyed, only to see the disturbing mask that covered his face.
His sweaty, muscular chest, scattered with scars, looked familiar, but she still wasn't sure if it was him.
If it was Jax.
His voice distorted into a deep, robotic grunt, making her shiver with fear, as his blue eyes glared at her bitterly through the mask.
Another gasp shot from her lips as he fucked her so violently that her body ached.
She clawed at his chest, but he was relentless, penetrating her like he was intent on splitting her in half.
"Jax!" she panted with exasperation, trying to take off his mask. He merely moved his head to the side to keep her hands away from his face.
"What's the matter…? Is it too much for you, baby?
" the distorted voice taunted. Before Deja could respond, he was pulling out of her and rolling her onto her stomach.
Pushing her onto her knees, he fisted her hair and yanked her head back.
"That's too fucking bad," he growled in her ear.
Deja cried out as he abruptly sank deep inside her cunt, and she nearly collapsed on the bed.
"Head up," he ordered, yanking her head back again. "You know he likes to watch."
Deja wasn't sure what confused her more: the familiar words or the other shirtless, masked man, leaning back against the dresser, watching them.
Was that Jax? Or was it Ian? Was Ian the one fucking her? The masks and distorted voices completely threw her off.
"Look at her. She fucking loves it. Don't you, you dirty slut," the man groaned from across the room. She could nearly hear the grin in his tone.
"Course she does. She loves getting that pussy destroyed… My good little cum slut," she heard the other grin in her ear.
Ringing filled her ears as her orgasm hit her without warning. Her knees grew weak and buckled as she collapsed on the bed, and he pulled out of her. Deja tried to catch her breath as the two left the room without saying a word to her.
She looked around in confusion before touching her stomach when she realized it was smaller. "...what?"
An abrupt scream shocked her out of her thoughts. Wrapping the bedsheet around her body, Deja scurried out of the strange bedroom into Jax's old living room. Her eyes widened in horror at the carnage before her.
Dead, mutilated bodies scattered throughout the living room as the metallic stench of blood filled her nostrils, making her gag.
Crimson blood coated the walls and floors.
Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when she spotted another masked, shirtless man wearing sweats.
The tattoos that colored his scarred skin made it obvious to her that it was Keith.
But it was the way he casually sawed his victim in half with his machete, innards spilling on the floor, that made Deja panic with distress. He turned his head to look at her. "...hey, baby girl. Come to watch Daddy play?"
"Stop!" Deja blurted with tears in her eyes. Her feet didn't feel like her own as she ran towards him before someone roughly grabbed her waist and yanked her back. Trying to writhe free of his grip, Deja stared up at another masked Donovan.
"...relax..." he whispered. She trembled as she felt the other Donovan press up behind her and peel the bedsheet from her body, replacing it with their roaming, possessive hands. Deja's breathing shortened as they sandwiched her between them, touching her body as if they were reclaiming her.
Her thighs clenched as a hand slipped between them, slipping two fingers inside her. Her breathing became more erratic when her head was pushed to the side for a pair of lips to taste her skin.
The mixture of fear and arousal made Deja's mind go haywire as her body weakened at the way they spread her legs and claimed her pussy once again.
"That's it, baby… Spread that pussy for me..." the voice groaned in her ear. "So fucking wet for Daddy..."
Her vision blurred with ecstasy, watching Keith hold his machete coated with blood and flesh to the throat of his next victim. "What better way to go than watching a sexy little thing like you get fucking railed ," he grinned before slicing his victim's throat.
"Stop it!" Deja growled, stumbling from between them. A strange surge of anger and fury overwhelmed her, unlike anything she had ever felt before.
But Keith stepped in front of her, grabbing her waist. "You wanna play hero again? Hmm?" Keith threatened, holding her roughly. "There's no fucking heroes in this story, baby girl. Just monsters."
Deja tried to rip off his mask, but he grabbed her throat with his bloodied hand.
She glared at him as his hand dragged down her neck and over her breasts, leaving a trail of blood.
She gasped as Keith roughly grabbed her bare ass, pulling her against him until she felt his erection against her pelvis.
"Enough!"
The darkness in his voice was unmistakable. That couldn't be anyone else but Jax. Before Deja could face him, he grabbed her from behind, placing a hammer in her hand.
Deja struggled against him as he pushed her towards another victim. "Wait-wait!" she panicked.
Holding her hand, Jax raised the hammer. "Don't act like you don't love it," he growled in her ear. The hammer came down on the victim's head, splattering Deja's face with blood.
Deja shot up in bed, screaming and sweating so profusely that her clothes were stuck to her body. Breathing heavily, she tried to adjust her vision in the darkness when she spotted a hooded figure standing in the corner of her room.
With impulsive panic, Deja grabbed the bat next to her bed and slammed it into the hooded shadow several times. She stumbled to turn on the light only to find she was beating the shit out of her bathrobe.
With her hand on her chest, she tried desperately to calm down. "Come on, girl. Get it together," she muttered. Leaning her bat against the wall, she stared at her pregnant belly in the mirror when she spotted the same masked face from her dream looking at her through the window behind her.
Deja abruptly turned around to face the window. But the masked face was gone. She laughed deliriously. "You're losing it, bitch. You're legit losing it."
This feeling that someone was always watching her had lingered ever since she killed Jax. Perhaps he was haunting her.
Rubbing her fingers over the stretch marks on her heavy belly, she frowned. She felt disgusting. But she was too exhausted to shower. She got back into bed when she felt a book beneath her sheets. She picked up Roselyn's Memoir and remembered that she had fallen asleep reading it.
Turning to the last page she was on, she continued reading until it lulled her back to sleep again.
Sitting on the grass with her legs folded beneath her, Deja adjusted the glasses on her face and scribbled in her notebook. Methodically, she would grab one of the many jars that crowded her to inspect the specimens she had collected.
"Make sure to get the entire border!"
Deja subtly glanced over her shoulder and saw Caleb working with his crew on the other side of the garden. Every so often, Deja would steal glances at him as she had done several days in a row to watch him work. She wasn't sure why. She didn't like him.
She hated that stupid flannel he would wear, rolled to his elbows, exposing the veins in his forearms…
She hated the way he would take it off whenever he got too hot, exposing his enticing muscular physique, complete with bulging biceps, a taut chest, and firm abs.
She hated the way he was always eager to get down in the soil.
He was always covered in dirt. She hated that the dirtier he got, the more attractive he became.
"Dirty bum," she muttered with a roll of her eyes, refocusing on her plants.
Caleb wiped his hands on his jeans and glanced over at Deja. She looked peaceful and focused. Perhaps she'd be in a good mood today… for once. Against his better judgment, he crossed the garden to join her.
Deja felt a shadow hover above her before she heard Caleb's voice. "Whatcha workin' on?"
"None of your business," Deja quipped.
"Sounds interesting," he joked. Deja ignored him. "So… you're a nature lover too."
"Wow, you're so intuitive," Deja muttered sarcastically.
"They call me Sherlock Holmes," Caleb grinned. Deja finally looked up at him. "...I'm… I'm kidding. They don't actually call me that," he joked. "I mean, I like to call myself-"
"Can you go away?" Deja cut him off.
Caleb gave her a defeated, tight-lipped smile. "Yup. You have a good day," he said, with a two-finger salute. He turned on his heels and, with his hands in his pockets, walked away. Deja rolled her eyes and went back to work.
"Did she bite your head off?"
Caleb looked up to see his men grinning at him. "My head's still on my shoulders, ya know," Caleb said.
"I dunno why you bother with her. She's bitter and batshit crazy," one of them said.
"Hey," Caleb warned. "Don't say things like that. You never know what someone is going through to make them act the way they do." Caleb looked over his shoulder at Deja and frowned with concern. "...maybe she's just been through some shit, ya know?"
"You think she's hot, don't you?"