Chapter 3
Chapter three
Jackson
Such a pretty little prey running into the night.
She thinks she can get away. That escape is achievable, but I’ve been running all my life.
People’s delusions of who they think I am caused me to flee a long time ago along with the bad part of me.
The evil part. The part that hurts just because I can.
I try to repress the rottenness, but it keeps seeping through until it just takes over.
Right now, it’s on the edge of breaking free.
Seeing her red hair flowing behind her back to the curve of her ass doesn’t help things.
She’s fire. The type that shows beauty in destruction.
Fire that builds and builds until it explodes, demanding light to take over the darkness.
The moment my eyes got a full look at her, I just knew this girl was mine.
Afterall, it takes a special person to knock me off my feet-literally, not only that, but to get out of her car seemingly annoyed I caused her a problem.
Sure, she’s fearful. God knows she should be.
But I feel something else. Something wild about her.
Something I need to explore while on the road to revenge.
My little fire.
Rather, that means mine for just the night remains to be seen.
Getting revenge for being framed has always been on my agenda, but this girl came flying down the drive, fucking up all my plans.
I could kill her, I suppose. Who am I kidding?
I’ll have to. She’ll have the police on me before I make it ten miles down the road. It’s not a risk I can take.
I smile at her effort as she darts farther into the trees.
The branches are lower here, causing me to duck under them.
The ground is muddy from recent rain-something that’s not on her side.
Her footprints lead me straight to her. They zigzag around a set of bushes and veer off to the right.
A decent try, I must admit, but it only breaks my attention for a few seconds.
I’m back on her tail, as the sounds of her breathing break up the sounds of our feet against the forest floor.
I pause, relishing in her noises. My cock twitches against the fabric of my jeans.
Now if only Madelyn would make those noises while I’m in her.
I sense fear, but something else in there too.
Drive. This woman has fight in her. What a welcome change from Cecilia, who turned out to be boring as fuck.
Madelyn rounds the corner through the treeline.
She’s made it to the edge of her yard and is running uphill toward the cabin.
I dash ahead, gaining speed. Her screams muffle her breathing as I close in.
Arms reaching, my fingers brush against the bottom strands of hair.
She turns on me and raises the knife. “I’ll stab you, you sick bastard,” she exclaims.
I lounge at her just as the blade sinks into the top of my arm.
Warm liquid seeps from the wound, down my elbow and onto the ground.
“Nice,” I say while relishing the pain that’s now shooting through my body.
My hand grabs the handle and pulls the knife free, along with some skin.
“I told you I like pain.” It reminds me I am still alive.
That I’m feeling something. Even if it hurts.
She makes a run for it, only for my hand to catch her by the ankle. Her body falls, and she lands stomach-first in the mud. I crawl on top of her, chest to back, dick to ass. My face gets closer to hers as I whisper in her ear, “You’re mine, little fire.”
She squirms underneath; the motion causes my balls to tighten. I want to fuck her right here. Take her cunt. Take what I’m owed for winning. I’ve never been one to wait for what I want. My impulses don’t allow patience.
“What did you just call me?” she whispers so quietly I can barely hear.
I trace the knife along the small of her back and down her ass.
With the tip of the blade, I poke the fabric so that it hits right at her pussy.
I press carefully so the knife cuts at her pants but not her skin.
“Little Fire.” I murmur while pressing the blade farther in.
“It has a nice ring to it, no?” A small whimper escapes her throat as the tip of the knife makes contact with her skin.
I reach up with one hand and take a fistful of hair, stopping her from going anywhere. Ignoring the pain in my arm, I drop the knife and grab her waist.
She buckles against my touch. “Pig,” she answers as if an insult affects me in any way whatsoever.
I shrug. “Sticks and stones.” I let go of her hair and take her shoulders. “Face me,” I order, voice low. She stays still, saying nothing.
“Now,” I growl while turning her onto her back.
Her hazel eyes stare into me, but no emotion seems to be there.
A mask has slipped into place to hide the most vulnerable part of herself.
Of being human. She’s done it to protect her mind…
from me. Smart, because I’ll break her in two.
My mouth opens to say those words, but something stops me.
I shift my focus back to her to see Madelyn’s right arm move slightly.
Before I can register her plans, she swings the knife at my chest. The blade slides across my skin, cutting a line by my collarbone.
Blood sprays across her face, the effect nothing more than glorious.
I snatch the knife out of her hand. “You are not helping yourself,” I warn.
My thumb glides along her cheek, smearing my blood into her skin.
“I should kill you,” I say, my voice a little more than a whisper.
“You shouldn’t,” she replies. She places her arms across her chest.
I stare at her with eyebrows raised. Her statement is seething with confidence. A smirk plays on my lips. She might actually give me a challenge. One I don’t want to waste so quickly.
I lean closer so that my lips are inches from her ear. “Sometimes I do like to play with my toys before breaking them. You are my shiny new plaything.”