Chapter 4
Chapter Four
COAST
Inoticed her the second she walked in. How could I not?
Her long hair cascades over her shoulders like ribbons of black silk, her slim body wrapped in tight black jeans and a leather jacket, Doc Martens on her feet, giving her that lethal edge that makes my cock stir. Her lips are plump, her eyes rounding softly as she takes in the room.
But she doesn’t look innocent like half of the girls here. She looks prepared, anticipation written all over he face.
And like a siren, she calls to me; a harbinger of death, I should stay far away from. Instead, every instinct urges me to get closer. To have her.
“Looks like Coast found his target,” Braun comments beside me. I can practically hear the smirk beneath his mask, the same one we all wear.
It’s not a rule to wear masks. The Wolves don’t because they claim it hinders them, but I call bullshit. They’re just shit at The Run and too proud to admit it.
I prefer the mask.
It strips away everything except instinct.
No names. No faces. No hesitation. Out there in the woods, we're nothing more than shadows hunting shadows, and fear does half the work for us.
It's easier to chase someone when they can't read your expression—when they don't know whether you're smiling beneath the mask or already planning how you're going to catch them.
Fear causes mistakes, and they’re just a factor when it comes to the chase.
Besides, anonymity has its advantages. People are always more honest when they don't know who's standing in front of them. More reckless. More willing to reveal who they really are.
The mask doesn't hide me.
It lets me become someone they'll never forget.
Kylo shakes his head, his shoulders bouncing with a silent chuckle.
“Any objections?” I ask them both.
They both nod their agreement, and that’s all the seal of approval I need.
“Listen up!” Braun announces, turning to face the group of girls who were huddled together.
All except the raven-haired stunner, who has her arms folded like she’s trying to work us all out.
Soon, that bravado on her face will be wiped clean.
There’ll be nothing but fear in her eyes, and I can’t wait to see it.
I’m practically bouncing on my feet as Braun heads towards the girls and starts to explain the rules.
“Welcome to The Midnight Run! By attending, you consent to the rules set out when you applied.” He stops in front of our target, and I know behind that mask he’s already thinking all the ways he’s going to have his way with our Siren.
“If you want to leave, back out, call chicken, it’s too late.
Rules for the game are simple: Capture the flag, and don’t get caught.
You have until dawn to evade capture and make it back here with your flag. ”
I watch the first girl, my Siren, for any signs of reservations, but I don’t see anything but sheer determination in her gaze.
The rules for our version of Capture the Flag are so simple that even a fourth grader could follow them.
Only the twist is that they have to evade capture until dawn.
If they have the flag and get caught, they have to serve us.
If they avoid capture and have a flag, the owner of the flag has to serve them.
We all have our emblem printed on a flag. Six flags staggered within the area of Deadwood Forest. We know where they are, which is probably an advantage for us. But we don’t care about those. We care about the ones trying to reach them. Whether they have the flag or not, it’s the chase we crave.
Over the past few of years that we’ve been doing this, we’ve only lost two runs.
Once, because the girl fell and broke her arm—fucking amateur—and we felt bad enough to let her off as long as she never returned.
We couldn’t risk the run being discovered by authorities; it’s not exactly legal what we’re doing.
The second time, the girl outsmarted us.
She was right under our noses the whole time, and I swear it was she who was tracking us.
We actually thought we’d lost her until we returned to the compound to end the game, and she was waving our fucking flag.
Turns out, she’d been hiding out in The Old Mill the whole time while we were out looking for her.
It was bold, and we rewarded her with her favor willingly, impressed that she managed to evade all of us.
But every time something like that happens, we switch up the rules. Call it unfair, but there’s no fun in the game if you’re following nothing.
It might sound sadistic, but everyone has skin in the game.
Nobody is forced to take part. They know the rules, they know the stakes, and they make their choice before signing the NDA when they apply for The Midnight Run.
We make sure we know who we’re accepting, because we don’t hand out invitations to everyone.
It’s always been a heavy mix of women just wanting to have fun, and those who need something less morally desirable.
For us, the run is never about winning. It's about indulging the instincts we spend most of the time keeping on a leash. Hunting. Tracking. Chasing. The adrenaline of the pursuit is enough to satisfy the part of us that craves the thrill.
Winning is just a bonus.
If we catch our target, they owe us three months of service, spanning from general housekeeping to anything we can think of—obviously, it’s all consensual.
If we don't win, we honor the favor they've earned.
Either way, we've already gotten what we came for.
A few hours beneath the trees, relying on nothing but instinct and the promise of a chase.
And those favors? They're rarely as innocent as people imagine.
Nobody survives The Midnight Run only to ask us to mow their lawn or paint a fence.
They come to us because there are things they can't do themselves.
Debts to collect. Scores to settle. People who have slipped through the cracks of the justice system.
Sometimes they ask us to make someone pay for their indiscretions.
Sometimes they ask us to make sure they're never a problem again.
So even when we lose, we don't.
Sooner or later, we still get to set the monsters free from their cage.
That's why the Heathens are the most dangerous group in the woods. Though the Reapers are a close second.
As the hunters, we’re the only ones with nothing to lose.
“Keep within the confines of the forest. The compound is off limits until dawn.” Braun continues explaining the rules, as if they aren’t written down on the clipboard.
“How long is that?” a petite blonde with bright blue eyes asks, causing Braun to halt his steps halfway down the line.
“Until the sun rises,” he barks.
She flinches, but then lifts her hand in the air to ask another question. “Yeah… but how long is that?”
Fuck. Whoever chooses her as a target has their work cut out for them. If it were me, I’d just grant her whatever fucking favor she wants and get her out of here.
Braun backs up until he’s right in front of the blonde. I can tell he’s just about done with the stupid questions, but he holds back on any sarcastic remark and towers over her. “When the fucking sun rises. Work it out.”
She snaps her mouth shut, and I swear I see my Siren chuckle silently.
A lithe brunette pipes up. “What if we don’t make it back to the compound but have a flag?”
He looks at her pointedly. “Then you’d better hope one of us hears your screams.”
She shudders at that, wrapping her arms over her barely clothed body.
“Remember, if you win, you can ask for anything—within reason. But when you lose, you’re ours,” Braun continues. It never hurts to remind them of that.
“If we lose…” the Siren finally speaks up, her voice silkier than I could ever imagine. “What kind of services do you expect?”
Braun looks at her squarely, his jaw flickering slightly before his posture softens.
Interesting. I can’t say I’ve ever seen him soften for anyone. Ever.
“That’s up to the person who captures you.”
I rub my hands together and glance at Kylo, his eyes narrowed on her like he’s working out a math equation. I slap him on the back, and he snaps his gaze to mine.
“Tonight’s going to be fun!”
He rolls his eyes and folds his arms, still staring at our target. Kylo doesn’t say anything; he never does. But between Braun and me, we’ve learned to read his expressions, his movements, his silence. And right now, I can tell there’s something off with him.
His finger taps a rhythm on his bicep, his body weight shifting ever so slightly.
Turning, I follow his gaze to our little Siren.
She stands defiantly, mirroring Kylo’s stance as she takes in the room. There’s a vague familiarity about her, but I can’t quite pin it down. She’s not like anyone I’ve met before, which is why I’ve already decided I want her.
“Remember, you agreed to the rules. You agreed to the run, and you agreed to the outcome.” Braun stops in front of a redhead in sportswear who looks like she’s about to run a marathon and not hunt in the woods. Stepping back, he joins us all on the other side of the room.
All the girls seem to take a collective breath as Kylo pushes open the double doors behind us.
A damp breeze snakes through the tunnel beyond, carrying with it the earthy scent of pine and wet soil. Darkness swallows the passage whole, the forest waiting somewhere beyond like a patient predator.
"You have a ten-minute head start," Braun says, checking his watch. "This tunnel leads into the woods, and from there, you're on your own."
He taps the screen, setting the countdown before lifting his gaze to the girls.
The room falls unnaturally quiet, our instincts sharpening as the hunt looms on the horizon.
The bravado from only moments ago disappears beneath tight jaws, nervous glances, and shallow breaths. Boots shuffle against the concrete floor. Fingers curl around jacket sleeves. Even the girls trying to look fearless can't quite hide the apprehension flickering across their faces.
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes to disappear.
Ten minutes before the monsters are unleashed.
The first sharp beep cuts through the silence.
No one moves.
Another.
Then another.
The countdown grows louder with every passing second, winding the tension tighter until it feels like the room itself is holding its breath.
Braun shifts a little, turning to me, then Kylo as the final beep echoes through the tunnel.
"What're you waiting for?" He jerks his chin toward the darkness. “Run."