CHAPTER EIGHT #4
I flinch and once again try to get out of his hold but to no avail.
The harder I struggle, the stronger his hold becomes.
I still keep trying, scared, my heart almost pounding out of my chest. But it only makes him angrier.
I know that because he growls, his chest vibrating at my back, and I immediately stop.
I clench my eyes shut for a second before trying to answer him. “I… We…”
“You tryna run? That’s what this was?”
“No!” I practically scream as if to reassure him that I wouldn’t run, which is so fucked up that I don’t want to think about it. “No, absolutely not. It’s… We w-weren’t running. We…”
“Then what the fuck were you doin’?” Radisson booms.
I flinch again, realizing this is the first time he’s done that.
He’s kidnapped me, tied me up. He’s threatened me, scared me, but he’s never, not once, raised his voice at me, and I didn’t know how safe that would make me feel.
Until he let his anger, his impatience, bleed into something he takes such great care with.
His voice, his words. It scares me more than that strange man ever could, and my words die on my tongue.
“Listen to me, yeah?” Radisson growls, his massive chest pushing into my spine. “We just saved your fool asses. So you tell us what you were doin’ here, or I’m really gonna fuckin’ hog-tie you and leave you in my room.”
“Fine, okay,” I say, my voice brittle and trembling. “First, it’s not Reverie’s fault. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to come here. I dragged her. It was me.”
“Why?”
Damn it.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe we got caught red-handed.
I have no choice but to spill the beans.
With utmost reluctance, I tell Radisson and Arsen why we came here.
I tell them about the rumors I’d heard growing up.
About the prison inmates vanishing and how Rawhide was rumored to be connected to it all.
And how when we stumbled upon some maps in their office and found strange structures all around their ranch, we decided to check one of them out to see if we could find the truth.
So we could have some leverage against them if they went back on their word and didn’t let us go.
When I’m finished speaking, there’s silence.
The man holding me captive against his body is still.
His arms are tighter, if possible, and I’m somehow clinging to them for support, my nails digging into his bare forearms. Plus, after all my attempts to get free from his hold, I’ve somehow come back to resting my head in the crook of his shoulder and arm.
I’m also mapping the arches and planes of his body through the dips and curves of mine, trying to memorize where and how my body fits against his.
I should stop. I should get ahold of myself. I shouldn’t sink into him like he’s the gravity my body is bound with, but I can’t stop myself. Not even when Arsen starts to speak and, surprisingly, gives me all the answers, the leverage, I’ve been looking for.
They call it the Rawhide Redemption, a reformation program for inmates.
Instead of completing their sentences on the inside, they’re sent to Rawhide to go through an initiation period.
If and when they come out of it, their sentence is served, and they pledge their loyalty to the Graysons and the ranch.
This man was one such inmate who’d just completed his initiation period and had started working for the Graysons.
However, the Graysons missed something in their initial evaluation of him—not every inmate is eligible for the program; they only let certain kinds of criminals onto their ranch—and they realized his crime was bigger than they’d thought.
It was Arsen who had caught this, and he had been in the process of making him confess.
It all happened spontaneously, without a plan, or they wouldn’t have left a beaten-up man out in the open.
They usually cover their tracks better than this, do a cleanup after.
Like they had last night. Of another man in their program.
I don’t know who beat that man up, but if I had to guess, I’d pick Radisson.
Finally, I know. I know why their secrets are so well kept and why their cowboys are so tight-lipped and loyal.
It was something my father never liked. That he could never make anyone from Rawhide talk.
It was hard to break them and find information, and I guess this is why.
They don’t just have cowboys. They have an army of cowboys, with a twisted sense of honor and loyalty. With their own code.
I also know—down to my bones—that the man I used to think of as my Phantom is involved in this.
“You’ve got five seconds to rectify your mistake and drop ’em on the floor.”
It’s Arsen’s voice again, and he’s addressed this to Reverie.
I’ve been so engrossed in my own thoughts, I don’t understand at first. But it all becomes horrifyingly clear when I watch my best friend start to take her clothes off.
She unzips her hoodie and I gasp. “You asshole! Just when I thought you had redeeming qualities!” I struggle against Radisson’s hold to go help my friend, but his grip doesn’t loosen.
“Are you actually asking her to get naked? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Of course, he doesn’t listen. Fucking Grayson. If anything, he commands us to get out of here, and I scream. I hurl obscenities at Arsen, at Radisson, too, for holding me captive. Who then picks me up, and with me screeching in his arms, strides out of the godforsaken cabin.
He carries me into the night one-handed, my spine still plastered against his front and his arm around my belly, holding me prisoner no matter how hard I struggle.
He bounds down those rickety stairs and keeps walking into the woods, his breaths harsh and his hold on me harsher.
I scratch at his arms. I punch at his torso.
I flail my legs about, but nothing I do makes him loosen his hold.
Until my kicking and flying feet somehow catch him in the knee and he stumbles, cursing.
That’s all I need. That’s my opening, and I put my entire body into pushing against him and his hold, at last breaking free.
I drop to the ground and I run.
I run and run through the deep woods, trying to make it back to the cabin so I can save my friend.
The ground feels shaky beneath my feet and sharp brambles cut through my skin as I dash under the meager moonlight, but I don’t care.
I have to get to her before that animal does something even more horrible.
I can hear my own animal behind me, though, my hunter, my Phantom, chasing after me.
His thundering footsteps make me pump my legs even faster.
Somehow, I manage to burst through the clearing where the nightmare cabin sits.
Panting and puffing, I make it to one of the windows at the back and what I see makes me go still.
Arsen sits in a chair, his back to the window, but I can see how wide his thighs are sprawled and how my friend is settled between them.
Her clothes are all gone now and Arsen’s hand is tangled up in her hair as he looks down at her.
I’d think she’d be in pain with how brutally he’s gripping her—I don’t need to be any closer than I am to be able to see that—but it’s not pain that’s painting my friend’s cheeks red, it’s the pleasure from it, from his possessive grip.
Her eyes are glazed and her mouth is parted.
She’s looking at him like she never wants to look away.
Like Arsen is her entire world. I’ve never seen her like that before, and even though I knew something was happening between her and Arsen, it still comes as a stunning realization that my best friend is in love with him.
Before I can draw my next heaving breath, a hand covers my mouth.
I gasp into it, or try to, but it’s too big for me, like I always knew, and its grip is so tight that my breath breaks.
I feel his scent of leather and spices all around me and his heat as he rasps, “Told you to not let me catch you, didn’t I?
” He squeezes his grip on my mouth, making me whimper.
“But you didn’t run fast enough, Princess. Let’s see if you’re ready to play now.”