Dark Desires by Candace Wondrak

Chapter Fourteen – Juliet

Once I was sure no one else would pop into the house at that exact moment, I realized I was alone. Like, alone, alone, even though Markus wasn’t too far away, locked in his office. No Will nearby.

That was weird, wasn’t it?

Since I had nothing else to do, I started to look for him. It felt odd to wander the house by myself, but something nagged at my brain and told me this wasn’t right. Markus never let me wander the house alone, not after running.

Maybe coming clean to him about Jaxon was all he’d wanted, and as a show of good faith, he’d let me off without a constant bodyguard? The thought was almost too much, mostly because I didn’t want to be alone in a house this large. It made me feel small, insignificant.

I checked the kitchen, ducked past Theo’s office, even looked outside near the pool. I didn’t find him anywhere, so I decided to try my luck at his room. He’d told me where it was, though he’d never brought me to it, for Markus would have an absolute fit if he did.

As I headed up the stairs in search, I couldn’t help but remember what Markus had said. He wanted to control who I, in his words, spread my legs for. I should be indignant, right? I should’ve fought him on it. I should’ve done something besides stand there, dumbstruck, awestruck, listening to each word he said like he’d caught me in a magic spell.

But I hadn’t, and I didn’t know whether or not, if I could rewind time and redo that encounter, I would.

It… might be nice to hand over control to someone. I mean, then I wouldn’t have to worry about anything, really. I could keep my head down and focus on surviving this house instead of worrying whether someone found me attractive, whether they liked me or not.

My heart might be too far gone for that, though. Jaxon… how could he do that?

I passed Stella’s room, and thankfully the woman was not in it. When I passed Tori’s room, I saw her hovering near her daughter, making sure she did her homework. I passed a few other rooms, and when I found the one I’d thought was Will’s, I knocked on the door.

Most of the rooms were open, you see, their occupants gone. The door to this room was closed, and it was only after I’d knocked that I started to wonder if he was so exhausted he needed more sleep. Staying up all night, guarding my door, had to be tiring. Maybe I should let him be.

However, I didn’t even get to finish that thought, for I heard footsteps pounding inside the room, and the door swung open in a rush after that. And then, when I saw the face of the guy standing opposite me, I wanted to shrink away.

It wasn’t Will, obviously.

Standing before me, wearing nothing but boxers, was someone I really shouldn’t be seeing in boxers. Mostly because I didn’t need my hormone-riddled body to get any more ideas with any other male in this house, especially ones who threaten to kill you with a fork.

Bennet stood, holding onto the door and the doorframe with both hands, frowning at me. His black hair hung over his forehead a bit, his sapphire eyes alive with annoyance, like I was the bane of his existence or something. For what it was worth, his body was well-sculpted and chiseled in all the ways that mattered. Lean and strong, with tattoos everywhere.

Seriously, his chest and stomach were covered in them. I guess I’d never really noticed before, since he’d always had clothes on to hide them. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a body with the number of tattoos he had… not that I’d seen a lot of bodies to begin with, but still.

The air inside the room smelled of smoke, though it had a funny twinge to it, like it was more than just smoke, and I couldn’t even peer past him to see what he’d been doing in there, other than smoking, obviously.

My eyes dipped to his chest, where a thick, tribal tattoo sat, all black and wild like fire.

“See something you like?” Bennet asked, jerking me out of my thoughts.

I realized what I was doing, cheeks blushing as I tore my gaze off his chest and rose to meet his annoyed stare. “No, I—I thought this was Will’s room.” I fumbled over my words, as if that was enough of an excuse to check him out like I just did.

His fingers clutched the doorframe harder. “So, you don’t see something you like?”

“Um, I mean, it’s all very,” I paused, internally wincing at my awkwardness, “nice. You look nice. Lots of, uh, tattoos and everything.” My tongue felt a little heavy, but maybe that was just the shock of today’s events finally setting in.

I thought Jaxon cared for me, but he obviously didn’t. I couldn’t let any other pretty face deceive me.

Bennet let go of the door and the frame, folding his arms over his chest, blocking out that tribal tattoo with his muscles. Lots and lots of muscles. “So you do like what you see.” When I didn’t say anything back, he added, “This isn’t Will’s room, and if you’re looking for him, I’d give up. You’re not going to find him anytime soon.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Why not?”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Why do you want to find that freak so bad, anyway? He’s fucking weird. I’ve always thought so. He shouldn’t be a part of the family.” Bennet sounded almost bitter when he spoke of Will, and I didn’t quite know why.

“Well, which room is his? I just want to look—”

“He’s not in his room.”

“You know where he is?”

A menacing smirk crossed his face, and he nodded. “I do. Tell you what, if you really want to see him, I’ll take you to him.”

A voice in my head told me I shouldn’t trust him, but then again, that same voice in my head could’ve told me that about Jaxon and it would’ve been a lot more helpful. At this point, what did I have to lose? If Bennet helped me find Will and I saw he was okay, I could bury the nagging feeling in my gut.

You know, the one telling me something was wrong. Like, hello? Everything in this house was wrong in one way or another. They were all killers, and they all wanted to get at me, apparently, even Tori’s parents.

Yeah, that was… kind of nerve-wracking.

Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I found myself nodding and saying, “That would be great, thank you.”

Bennet continued to smirk. “Such manners. How fucking annoying.” He left to grab his clothes and pull them on, and I tried not to peer into his room and watch. Just because he had an attractive, tattooed body did not mean I should leer at him like a lecher. Handsome faces were the norm around here, and I had to remember faces like that could hide the worst secrets.

Liars. Killers. Really, you couldn’t get much worse.

Bennet appeared within the minute, dressed and still looking as annoyed as he had in the beginning. He closed his door behind him, and I could tell he wasn’t too thrilled with leading me to Will, so I stuttered out, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to—”

He silenced me with a look. “I’ll take you to Will, but there’s something you have to do for me, first.” He started walking through the hall, and I watched him go, blinking, wondering what in the world he wanted.

Rushing after him, I took up his walking pace as I asked, “What do you want?” I didn’t really have much to offer, so I didn’t know what Bennet wanted from me. This house was a mini-castle in its size; it might take me all day and all night just to find Will. As long as whatever Bennet wanted didn’t take too long, I’d be okay with it.

But, seriously, I didn’t know what I could do for him.

Bennet took us further down the hall, in the opposite direction, away from Stella’s and Tori’s room, along with all the other bedrooms I’d passed. The hall ended in a side stairwell, one I’d never seen before since I’d never come this far down. Never had a reason to. We walked down the stairs, to the first floor, using a side door to emerge into the warm air outside.

The day’s afternoon wound down, twilight almost upon us. My stomach gurgled with hunger, but I pushed it aside. I’d spent more time looking for Will than I’d thought, and he was nowhere to be found. Granted, I didn’t check the whole house, but a job like that would take ages. My dinner could wait. Something clearly wasn’t right here.

We walked along the side of the patio near the pool, going past it, further away from the house in its backyard than I’d ever been. The farther away we went, the more I started to worry. “Where are we going?” Bennet didn’t answer, not like I thought he would. “What do you want?” No matter how many times I asked him, he kept quiet.

Unsettling, to say the least.

The further you got away from the house, the more trees there were, bigger, blocking out the early twilight sky. I couldn’t help but feel like I strayed too far from the house, that Markus would think I was trying to run again, even though I wasn’t. I honestly had no idea why Bennet was taking me out here. It didn’t make sense.

“I said if you want me to take you to Will, you have to do something for me,” Bennet reminded me, as if I’d forgotten. My attention span wasn’t that bad. Come on.

Under our feet, moss poked through the green grass, though I imagined most of it was moss instead of grass due to the total shade the thick trees around us afforded. A gentle breeze blew past us, and Bennet stopped. I stopped a few steps afterward, realizing he was stationary.

I opened my mouth, about to ask him what this was about, what he wanted from me in the woods, when an idea came to me. Did he take me out here to… to ask me to do something sexual? I’d literally just told Markus I wouldn’t do anything of the sort, and I meant it. If Bennet thought I would go against Markus for him, he was dead wrong.

Uh, maybe I should stop using the word dead in that context, at least while I was here. Dead could be taken quite literally in this household.

“I… I don’t think I should be out here alone with you,” I whispered, wishing I would’ve realized it sooner. You know, earlier, before walking all the way out here with Bennet. To say I was anxious would be an understatement.

Bennet’s lips curled into a half smirk. The expression wasn’t exactly cute or handsome. It made me feel uneasy, reminding me of that morning, when I’d first met him and he’d threatened to kill me with an egg-covered fork. “Probably not, but too late now, isn’t it?” The half smirk grew as he spoke, furthering the anxieties taking root inside of me.

He definitely had the crazy glint down pat, and I’d bet he’d learned it from his brothers. I could see where he was related to Markus; the black hair on his head was one, not to mention the squareness of his jaw. In ten or fifteen years, he’d give Markus a run for his money, but right now, Markus had what Bennet didn’t, and that was a maturity that only came with experience and age.

The eyes, though, the eyes were completely different. Bennet’s were a bright, vivid blue, even in the shade of the trees. They glimmered with mischievous amusement, something Markus’s dark eyes never did.

“Why are we here?” It took everything in me to swallow down my unease and ask him, and I’d be a big, fat liar if I said I didn’t have the itch to run back to the house. I think, right now, I’d rather have dang near anyone else’s company. I didn’t particularly like the way Bennet stared at me, as if I was a piece of meat he could eat up.

And I didn’t mean that sexually. I meant that quite literally, and that was why I felt my heart starting to beat faster in my chest. My fight or flight instinct already kicking in, even though I didn’t get any answers from him yet.

“Don’t be scared,” Bennet spoke.

“I’m not.”

“Liar,” he hissed, sticking a hand into his pocket. Just one. “I brought you here because this is my favorite place on the grounds. It’s so… calming. Makes me not want to kill, you know? Actually, I know you don’t know, because you’re not one of us.”

If he thought I was going to argue with him about that, he couldn’t have been more wrong. I stayed silent, though I did swallow hard.

“There are two types of people in this world,” Bennet went on. “It’s something us Scotts are taught from birth. The hunter and the hunted. The predator and the prey.” He slowly cocked his head at me, the grin growing on his face a maniacal one. “Do you know which one you are?”

I think everyone in the world would rather be the hunter instead of the hunted, to be the predator instead of the prey, but I was not stupid enough to claim otherwise. What would be the point? Bennet would see right through me. “The prey,” I whispered, hating myself as I said it.

“That’s right,” he said, nodding along with me. “The prey. You are prey, Juliet, no matter what anyone else in that house tries to tell you. You don’t belong here. You never will.” He pulled out his hand from his pocket, holding onto something I couldn’t see, his palm blocking it from my view. “You’re here so we can play a little game.”

A game? A game in the woods in the early twilight hours? Why did I feel like this wasn’t good? Bennet bringing me out here to play a game, a game that had something to do with being prey. Maybe I was too sane compared to him, but I couldn’t put two and two together.

“What game?” I could barely speak. My voice sounded the faintest I’d ever heard it, laced with dread and apprehension.

“You’re going to run,” he whispered, flicking his wrist. The object he held onto slid open, revealing shiny steel. A switchblade. He held onto a sharp blade, and seeing the metallic steel made my stomach drop to new lows. “And I’m going to catch you.”

What? That—surely, he couldn’t be serious. Bennet had to be joking, right? He didn’t bring me all the way out here to chase me. And, anyway, what did he plan on doing with that knife? All these questions and more rang in my head, and as I stared at Bennet with wide eyes, I realized he was completely, utterly serious.

“But—”

Bennet didn’t let me speak, cutting in, “I’ll give you a head start, but you better get going, because once I get started, I don’t stop.” Never had a warning sounded more threatening, more ominous.

“I—” Again, I stopped, but this time I stopped because Bennet began to count.

He was serious. He wanted to chase me, to hunt me like a predator in the woods, to try to catch me and… and then what? Would he use that knife on me? Would he hurt me? Did it matter? The longer I stood there, the less time I’d have to get away from him, and the less time I had, the quicker he would catch me.

I spun on my heel, taking off. Bennet stood in between me and the direction of the house, so I figured if I disappeared around the trees nearby, I’d be able to circle back and make it to the house. You know, not become a victim to this crazy psycho.

He wanted to chase me. What the heck? What kind of person got off on this stuff?

Didn’t know why I asked. Clearly, anyone in this house would get off on it.

I had no idea if I was quick or not, nor did I know just how long Bennet would stand there and count. Would he count to five? Ten? Some other number? He gave me no hints, but I knew he would count higher than three, because that’s the last number I heard spoken through his lips as I darted away.

This was insane. This was literally insane. I could hardly think straight. All I could think about was: I didn’t want to play this game. I didn’t want to get hurt, nor did I want to die at the hands of Bennet Scott. I’d faced the possible reality and future that might arrive, my death in this house, but not out here, in the woods. Not by Bennet’s hand.

It was messed up, more messed up than anything I’d ever caught myself thinking, but if anyone should kill me, it should be Markus. He should be the beginning and end to my story. No one else. No one else would be as fitting.

Yeah, totally messed up, huh?

I ran straight away from him for a few seconds, tossing looks over my shoulder to make sure he still stood immobile, counting—and to test his line of sight. As soon as he couldn’t see me, as soon as I was out of his sight, I’d make a sharp right and start to circle back, hopefully avoiding him as I went.

Alas, that was not how this little chase was destined to go.

Nope. For during one of the times I glanced behind me, my foot caught on a stray root. Combine that with my momentum, I couldn’t stop myself from falling to the ground with a grunt. Heart pounding in my ears, I struggled to get up, back to my feet, and my screw up let me hear footsteps rushing behind me.

Bennet was chasing me already. I had to get up, had to at least try.

So that’s what I did. I bared my teeth at nothing in particular as I pulled myself together and got back to my feet. Since he was already on the hunt, I decided to dart to the right anyway, careful in where I ran so as to not trip again.

Another trip might just mean the end.

What was Bennet thinking? I wondered what could possibly be running through his head right now, how he could rationalize this. This wasn’t a game. This was sick. This was twisted and demented. What kind of guy was he?

I knew the answer to that: one I should not be alone with, not ever. If I somehow made it out of this little game alive, I had to remind myself of that any time I was near him. Never again would I be caught alone with Bennet, for my own safety.

Time seemed to both go slowly and too quickly. I couldn’t tell how long I ran in the woods, but it was enough to make my skin hot and my lungs struggle to get a full breath of air. I… might’ve gotten turned around a bit, overestimated my ability to get back to the house, because I swore I should’ve already emerged from the woods and onto the grassy field before the gardens by now, but I hadn’t.

I was still in the woods. Still shaded by tall, thick trees. Still being chased by a manic Bennet.

Wait a second. I darted behind a tree, leaning my back against it as I struggled to get my body under control. My ears did not hear Bennet’s feet on the ground, nor did I hear him close by anymore.

I allowed myself a moment to think, to hope, as foolish as it might’ve been, I managed to escape him.

But it was foolish, because when I peered around the tree to see if I could spot him again, Bennet was somehow standing right there, less than two feet away from me. The expression on his face read unimpressed, and the smirk on his lips was unrepentantly cruel.

“I thought you’d run a little faster,” Bennet spoke. “Not really much of a chase, you know.” It sounded like he was seconds from saying more, but I didn’t stick around to listen. I pushed off the tree and sprinted in the opposite direction.

I ran like I’d never run before. Granted, I didn’t have much practice running, but it was kind of an instinctual thing. Running from danger, trying to keep yourself alive, something built into your bones.

I supposed the same could be said of what Bennet felt, too. Humans were violent people. Daddy had always said so. From the very beginning of time, from when humanity sprang up and took charge of the world, we hunted, we killed, we took control. We might have countries and societies built up right now, but deep down, those same desires sat dormant. Bennet only let his inner monster free.

Did I have one, or was Bennet right in that you could only be the prey or the predator? One or the other, never both?

I thought I ran quickly, I thought I’d be able to get away, but I was stupid. Stupid and so, so wrong, for however fast I was, Bennet was faster. Maybe he hunted a lot; maybe this wasn’t his first time chasing someone while clutching a sharp switchblade. Whatever the truth was, it didn’t matter, for a few seconds later, a hand knocked me off balance by grabbing my arm and pulling me back.

Bennet held me with a strong grip, and the next thing I knew, he pushed me against the nearest tree, my spine slamming against the tree trunk so hard I winced. I was seconds from struggling, from trying to push him off me, but he moved the tip of the switchblade to the base of my throat, leering at me.

“Did you really think you’d outrun me?” he asked. “Did you really think I’d let you get away?” Bennet chuckled darkly, and never had I heard an uglier sound.

“Let me go,” I whispered, blood pumping so fast inside me everything felt hot, but not the good kind of hot. “You caught me.” With each word I spoke, I could feel the tip of the blade pressing just a bit harder against me. I did not want him to prick me, to make me bleed, to kill me.

It would be easy for him, I knew. So effortless, and he could do it without blinking.

God, the steel on my neck felt so cold, and I shivered in spite of everything else being hot. Bennet drew the knife up my neck, stopping just below the side of my jaw, near my left ear. He leaned in close to me, his breath warm as it bloomed on my skin, “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I don’t want to let you go running back to Markus.”

I didn’t bring up Markus, so it was odd he did. I wanted to say something, but my voice refused to come out, and I knew whatever words I might’ve said right then would’ve sounded inadequate. Nothing would be enough to convince Bennet to let me go.

Stupid. I’d been stupid to come out here with him in the first place, too desperate to find Will.

“I don’t get what the big deal about you is,” Bennet went on, digging the knife into my skin and causing a prick of pain to erupt just under my jaw. He didn’t stab me, but he did push enough to cut me. A shallow wound, and I tried not to grimace. “Everyone’s so obsessed with you, but I don’t see what the big fucking deal is. You’re nothing. You’re weak, pathetic. If anything, you should be in our basement, and we should be able to do whatever the fuck we want to you. It isn’t like someone like you could ever change the world.”

“I don’t want to change the world,” I whispered, closing my eyes when I felt him draw the switchblade up to my face, running its smooth, flat side against my cheek. His other hand barred me from slipping away, resting on the tree just beside my hip. “I just want to live.”

“Life,” Bennet hissed, leaning his forehead against mine, the switchblade now dancing across my lips, “should be reserved for those who deserve it.” In other words, he thought I didn’t deserve it.

And if I didn’t deserve life, then I could only think of what he thought of me. Lower than low. I guess that’s how the hunter viewed the hunted: a different species, lower, lesser, not deserving of anything.

Even though the knife was against my lips, even though speaking could cause the switchblade to cut me, I still found myself whispering, “And who gets to decide who deserves what? You?” The knife moved off my mouth, thankfully, but he moved it so its sharp tip drew down along my neck, stopping above my collarbone. “What gives you the right to make that decision?”

I sounded bolder than I felt, which was a good thing, because I literally trembled against the tree. Bennet was not nearly as tall as Markus, nor did he have as many muscles as Jaxon, but he was still stronger and bigger than me, not to mention the force of the switchblade. He could kill me here and now, take my body somewhere else, try to pull one over on Markus.

Or maybe he was at the point where he didn’t care. It didn’t sound like he was usually in the Scott loop, from what little I’d heard. He was forced to go to Hillcrest University.

“Right now, I’d say this knife,” Bennet murmured, his voice lower than I’d ever heard it before. Low, rough, and so, so angry. Angry with me, angry with life, angry with anything and everything.

The switchblade on my collarbone dipped lower, and though it was above my shirt, I swore I could still feel the steel as it glided down to my breasts. My breath caught again, and I felt the intense need to sink into the tree behind me and totally cease to exist. Not a real option, though. Pity.

I could hardly speak, “Are you… are you going to kill me?” The least he could do was tell me the truth, let me know if these would be my last moments in this world. I liked to think I was owed that much.

“I want to,” he muttered, forehead hot against mine. The switchblade danced across the top of my chest, smooth along the curves of my breasts. “I want to dig this steel into your flesh and watch you bleed. I want to watch the blood run down that perfect, smooth skin, listen to it as it drips to the floor… pools in the nape of your neck.” As he spoke that, as he whispered the dark things he wanted to do to me, I felt the lower half of his body press harder against mine.

His dick was hard. I didn’t know if it had only just started to get hard with imagining hurting me, or if it had started to harden during the chase. I supposed it didn’t matter; it only served to show just how screwed up Bennet was.

How could you get hard while imagining hurting someone? I could never… but then again, I think we’d already established the fact I could not have been more different from these men, from the Scotts.

“There’s only one thing I’m good at,” Bennet whispered, moving his face so that his lips neared my ears, “and that’s hurting people. You might be Markus’s favorite right now, but soon he’ll want to get rid of you, and I’ll be the first in line to get a taste of you.” The hand on the tree beside my hip moved to my head, and I felt his fingers weave through my hair, pulling my head to the side and exposing the side of my neck he’d cut moments ago. “Actually, I think I might taste you right now.”

Was he really going to—

I didn’t get the chance to finish that question, for in the next moment, I felt his warm, wet tongue glide against the crook of my neck. There couldn’t have been much blood, but I could not imagine what it looked like, how much of my blood he’d tasted on his tongue.

A sound that was almost a hum of dark approval came from Bennet’s chest, and the fingers in my hair dropped to my neck. He held onto my throat, lessening the pressure he’d put on me below the waist so he could lower the switchblade to my thighs. Though it ran over my clothes, I felt every part of my core tightening in response.

“I can’t wait to have you tied up, helpless,” Bennet went on, his voice almost husky. The idea of hurting me was one he could not deny, apparently, something he wanted to do badly. I could hear it in his voice, could feel it in the way his body touched mine. The switchblade dancing across my thighs was an extension of his hand, his fingers: dangerous, cold and cruel, but tantalizing all the same.

And yet, still I was afraid. Still I feared Bennet and what he could do to me right now, what he would do without feeling an ounce of remorse.

These men, each and every one of them, had their own demons, their own shadows haunting them. They each craved something different, something dark, and somehow I fit into those musings perfectly.

“Bennet,” I started, but he started to squeeze my neck harder.

“Shut up,” he hissed, a growl, feral, animalistic to its very core. In the shadows of the forest, in the dying afternoon’s light, Bennet looked as much an animal as a person could, and he was very vehement in not withdrawing the switchblade from between my legs.

So I shut up. Obviously I could not reason with him, could not talk him off this ledge. He’d had years to get to this point, all of his childhood, I bet. How could he be so unstable and still be an outsider to his own family?

In that way, a teeny part of me felt bad for him. You know, amongst the fear.

Then Bennet said something I wasn’t expecting him to: “Get on your knees.”

I stared at him, heart skipping a beat. “What?”

“You fucking heard me. Get on your fucking knees, Juliet, before I cut up that pretty skin of yours more and make you,” he sneered, taking a single step away from me, finally moving that switchblade away from my apex—only so I could fall to my knees.

And I did. How could I not? How could I have done anything differently? If I would’ve run, Bennet would’ve given chase. If I would’ve fought him to get hold of the knife, he would’ve overpowered me anyway. No, the only thing I could’ve done right then was do as he commanded.

I fell to my knees, the mossy grass below me somewhat wet. My head was level with his dick, and I tried not to stare at the hard bulge in his pants. He wouldn’t… he wasn’t… gosh, I couldn’t even think straight. The chase, the knife; everything had gotten me so wound up, riled up, I felt almost like I was having an out of body experience.

Bennet’s pupils dilated as he undid the button on his jeans. I watched as he pulled out his hard cock, and though it was not the first one I’d seen, it still felt like a first to me. The first dick I’d seen in the woods, away from the world, the threat of steel stopping me from turning away.

Thick and veiny, covered with shadows, his cock stood straight, a foot away from my face, and new anxieties bubbled up in my body. What was Bennet doing? What was I doing? This wasn’t… we weren’t going to—

My thoughts vanished, flying out of my mind the moment he took a tiny step closer to me and pressed the steel against my jaw, pointing the switchblade downward toward my neck. It was all he could do, given he was standing and I was on my knees. Still, it was enough of a reminder the blade was near, and if I did so much as move an inch, he could—and likely would—cut me.

I watched Bennet bring his free hand to his cock, all while still holding the switchblade against me. His eyes were half-lidded, zeroed in on me and my inferior position. He wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, stroking himself once, slowly, and it was right then I knew what he would do.

He wanted to touch himself while asserting his dominance over me. He wanted to come on my face and further teach me the lesson I was not on his level. Bennet Scott wanted to take a page out of Markus’s handbook and be in total, absolute control.

And, though I still felt fear over being so close to a sharp knife, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t into it. If there was one thing this house, these men, had taught me, it’s that I wasn’t as good of a girl as I’d thought I was.

I might not be bad in the way of being bloodthirsty and cruel, but I was bad in other ways. Daddy would be ashamed of me, by me and my actions, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here to ridicule me, call me a slut, and tell me how disappointed he was in me.

I stared up at Bennet’s face for a few moments, but when he started to jerk his hand along his length faster, when his rhythm grew quicker, I dropped my gaze down to his cock. It was… a strange thing, to watch a man pleasure himself. Will had done it during our little date, but I’d been facing the other way, standing, imagining what he was doing while not quite understanding what it looked like.

But now I knew. Now I knew how dark and enticing a man could look while pleasuring himself. It was different than sex, more primal. Less about shared pleasure than it was about his and only his. I supposed that’s what these guys were good at: seeking out their own pleasure. Doling it out, giving it away to others… that wasn’t what they did. Their first priority was themselves.

If I was them, I’d be the same, so I didn’t blame them. If I was in their position, if I thought like they did, I’d do anything to find my own release, even if it meant chasing a girl in the woods and touching myself while holding a knife to her neck.

I walked a dangerous line with all of these guys. Not just Markus. Not just Will or Jaxon or even Theo. Any male in this house called out to me, drew me in. I should run the other way, do whatever I could to escape their eternal darkness, but I could not. I wouldn’t. I was caught, trapped, locked in a web I’d been too blind to notice.

The degradation of my soul. The desecration of my innocence. The destruction of everything I was. I would be born anew in this house, among these men, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Time would be unflinching and cruel. Time changed all, and it only proved right now how much it had already changed me.

Bennet wore a sneer as his hand went along his length, fisting himself over and over. His hips began to buck, low grunts coming from his lungs. The world around us grew darker as the sun began to set, the sky above the trees a deeper, darker blue and purple.

And then it happened. It happened before I realized it. I blinked when I first felt something hot and sticky land on my cheek, accidentally jerking into the blade against the top of my neck and causing another cut to form. I couldn’t focus on the pain, though, for as it spread throughout my neck, more shots of cum landed on me.

My nose, my chin… my lips.

I watched it happen, watched Bennet erupt, watched his body spasm as he stood there. It was… something else, watching an animal like him lose himself to pleasure. No wonder guys like him did everything they could to get those dicks wet. I knew what I felt like having an orgasm, but Bennet; I imagined everything was amplified for him.

The knife, the control, the whole taboo of it.

I opened my mouth, not sure what I would say, but wanting to say something—but in the end, it didn’t matter. All I got was some cum on my tongue, and Bennet pulled away from me, stuffing his still-erect cock into his pants and zipping up, closing the switchblade and shoving it back into his pocket. He said nothing, did nothing, but turn away from me and, presumably, storm back to the house.

Finally, I got ahold of myself, and I got to my feet. As I wiped off the cum from my face, I called out after him, “Wait! What about Will?” Yes, that’s what this had been about, right? I chased after him, stopping when he whirled on me, giving me a look that could kill as quick as that switchblade in his pocket.

“You want Will? Find a way into the basement. That’s probably where he is, if I had to guess.” His blue gaze fell to my neck, and I hurriedly reached up and wiped away the fresh blood that had pooled from the injuries.

Small cuts, but enough to slick my fingertips in the red stuff.

I wiped the blood onto my pants, about to ask how I could get into the basement, why Will would be down there. I didn’t get a chance to, for Bennet spun and walked away—and this time, I let him go. I stood there and watched him go, every so often wiping the blood off me again. What I needed to do was get to a bathroom and clean myself up, and do it before I came across anyone else in the house.

I did know, though, I wouldn’t be able to get into the basement on my own. I’d need someone to enter the code on the keypad for me. Markus. I’d need Markus. But I’d also need Markus to confess and tell me why Will was in the basement.

Was he dead? It hurt me to even think of that possibility, for the last thing I wanted was to see Will’s corpse.

He had to be alive. He had to. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if he was dead, if Markus had him killed for whatever reason. Wasn’t Will a part of the family? Why would a family member be locked in the basement? Did Will do something bad? It felt strange for the tables to be turned, for me to be the one looking to get into the basement instead of trying to get out of it. A switch, definitely.

I followed the direction Bennet had walked off in, hoping he’d gone for the house, and in a few minutes, the trees broke apart, and I saw the impressive residence just ahead. The pretty colors of the sky were gone, darkness taking its place. I wiped at my neck, at my face, trying to look somewhat okay. Bennet was about a hundred or so feet ahead, having already reached the pool. He walked a lot quicker than me, and he disappeared into the house shortly after.

I thought I would reach the house scot-free, as Bennet had, but when I reached the pool’s side, someone else exited the house, her round, cherub face looking the opposite of happy. Tori. She’d changed out of her school clothes and now wore bright pink pajamas, and her mouth wore a frown. If I had to guess, I’d say she was long done with her homework, though why she was out here, I had no idea.

By the time I reached her side near the sliding doors, Tori had her small arms folded over her chest, her blue eyes on me. “Were you with Bennet?” For a child, she sure sounded suspicious.

I opened my mouth, not seeing what the harm was in telling her the truth—part of it, anyway, because I sure as heck wasn’t going to admit to a ten-year-old that I’d gotten on my knees and let Bennet touch himself and come on my face. But then I stopped myself, realizing it probably wasn’t a good idea. It was something I should keep to myself.

“I was taking a little walk,” I told her. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t trying to run.”

Her arms fell to her sides, and she pointed. “Is that blood on your neck?”

Oops. Forgot about that.

“Ah… thorns.” I said it before I had the chance to stop and wonder if there were any thorny bushes on their property. I didn’t know the outside that well yet, so I wasn’t too sure. Oh, well. Too late now. Already said it, so it wasn’t like I could take it back. “I’m fine.”

Since I could tell I’d messed up by saying that and Tori was too smart to believe my excuses, I did not want to linger there and give her any more doubts. I gave her a smile and pushed past her, heading inside the house. The moment my feet hit the floor, I reached up to my neck and lightly touched where the cuts were. No fresh blood. I must’ve smeared some when I’d tried to wipe it off before. Shallow wounds, but even the shallowest of wounds could bleed.

I hightailed it away from the set of double doors that led to the patio and the pool, and therefore away from Tori and her discerning eyes. I kept up a quick pace until I passed a bathroom, and then I ducked inside it, locking the door before switching on the lights and getting a good view of my neck in the mirror.

Yeah, smeared blood. Great.

I hoped Tori would keep that information to herself, at least for now. One thing at a time, you know? Let me find Will first, and then… then I could deal with Tori and Bennet and what he’d done.

I grabbed some toilet paper off the roll, wetted it in the sink, and cleaned myself up. I did not toss the pinkened stuff into the trash once I was clean; instead, I threw it in the toilet and flushed it, leaving no evidence I’d been in here.

Before walking out, I double-checked myself one final time. Another once-over to make sure I didn’t miss anything. No stray blood, no random cum… I thought I looked fine. The wounds had stopped bleeding, thankfully.

Out of nowhere, my stomach gurgled, and I realized I was hungry. So, so hungry. I’d spent all that time looking for Will I’d completely missed dinner. With everything Bennet had told me, a part of me didn’t feel like eating, but if Will was really in the basement, I didn’t think Markus would drop everything right now and take me to him.

No, I’d eat, plan out what I would say to Markus, and then go to him tomorrow. If Will was down there, if Bennet wasn’t lying, there was nothing I could do for him. Nothing other than seeing him.

Beside the hunger, a pain erupted in my chest when I had the worried thought: what if he was dead already? What if he’d done something and Markus had killed him? I didn’t want to think it was possible, but with this family, you never knew. Each and every person was capable of so much, even Tori. I couldn’t forget that.

Gathering up myself and trying to push away all of my worries, I exited the bathroom, heading towards the kitchen. I was already near it, so it didn’t take me too much time to reach it, and when I did, I found the one that was normally in the kitchen, cooking for the family, was nowhere to be found.

Shouldn’t surprise me, with how late it was. Past dinner time. As I stepped into the kitchen, however, my nose smelled something. An aroma which told me someone had been here recently.

I moved to the overly large, stainless steel refrigerator, pulling open one of its doors to see what I could scrounge up. It’s something I was used to doing, growing up with Daddy, who was gone all the time. You’d think it would’ve made me a decent cook, but I preferred the easy stuff, the food I could toss in the microwave or the oven, set a timer and forget about while I watched TV.

Yeah, TV, for so, so long, had been my only window to the outside world.

I spotted a few plates of what must’ve been dinner sitting on one of the shelves of the refrigerator. Wrapped in a clear plastic, I could see it was pasta—which I could’ve guessed from the smell of the air around me.

I assumed the plates were there for anyone who’d missed dinner, so I gently took the nearest one out, letting the fridge door close on its own as I set the plate on the counter. My fingers worked to take off the plastic wrap, and I peered around the kitchen, spotting a microwave a few feet down on the wall, amongst the upper cabinets.

I didn’t know how long to put it in for, so I tried thirty seconds and tested the noodles to see how warm they’d gotten. Didn’t want them to be searing hot, but I liked my food to be a little hotter than lukewarm.

When the food was sufficiently hot to my liking, I got myself some water and exited the kitchen, turning in the hall to head to the dining room, where I knew a ridiculously long table sat. I know, I know. As if they had family meals here, where everyone sat down all at once.

They didn’t. I didn’t think they ever did. Heck, I was pretty sure there were still family members I hadn’t met yet, this place being so large and a lot of the family being gone all the time. Out in the world, doing what the Scotts did.

Hunting, to use Bennet’s words. Hunting their prey. People like me. People who had no idea they were being stalked in the darkness, people who would get sick at the depravity in this house. I know I had.

And now? Now, I still hated it when I thought about it. I’d never get used to it. It’s why I tried not to think about it, honestly.

You know what helped me not think about it? Thinking about other things. Letting something else take over my mind so I didn’t have to think about the one thing I would rather not. Right now, I didn’t want to think about Will and his fate in the basement, why he was there… or about the video Markus had shown me earlier. Jaxon and that blonde woman.

Easier said than done when you stared right at the person in question, though.

Jaxon sat at the far end of the long table, shoulders hunched as he ate in the dark, in the silence. The hall light was on, giving the dining room more than enough light for him to see what he was doing.

My legs froze when I saw him, and every ounce of hunger I’d felt vanished the moment my eyes laid upon him. Jaxon paused in his eating, noticing he was no longer alone, and his brown-haired head turned in my direction.

We weren’t exactly close to each other. There was maybe twenty feet in between us, but I could still see the frown on his lips, how his walls had been built back up. All it took was another woman, I guess. Another woman to make him forget all about me.

I stared at him, my expression hardening. I’d been so stupid for thinking Jaxon could ever like me. Of course he’d use me for sex. That’s what guys did, right? They didn’t care where they got some, as long as they got their dicks wet. I never thought I’d be used quite like that, though, and it hurt to see him, especially so soon after watching that video.

Jaxon didn’t look at me for long. His gaze was back on his food, and he shoveled another bite of pasta into his mouth. The me of yesterday would wonder why he ate so late, but the me of today didn’t care.

Why should I waste my time caring about someone who so very clearly thought nothing of me? Oh, he’d had me fooled good, and it just made me feel more and more angry as I thought about it. Such an idiot I’d been. A big, fat, naive idiot.

Since all hunger had faded from my body the moment I laid eyes on him, I decided to make the second-best use of the food and water I held onto. I marched across the dining room, heading directly toward him. As I walked, he dutifully ignored me.

Let him try to ignore what I was about to do. Let him freaking try.

I stopped only when I stood next to him, glaring down at him. I gripped my cup hard, and without thinking of the consequences, I tossed the water in the cup directly at his face. It splashed out, coating his hair and his face, along with his shoulders.

He said nothing, which was good, because I wasn’t quite done yet.

I placed the now-empty cup on the table beside him, moving my other hand so it was flat beneath the plate. I then took that plate and brought it to his face, getting him nice and full of pasta, smearing the warm sauce, hopefully, up his nose. Yeah, I hoped he was really uncomfortable.

Once the pasta on my plate had either gotten on his face or had fallen to his lap, I narrowed my eyes at him. I kind of wished he’d say something, do something, for his silence only made me rage harder. How dare he? Maybe I had no right to be so angry with him, but I was—in fact, I didn’t think I’d ever felt this betrayed, this angry, in my entire life.

I’d never felt a broken heart before, but I think I did now.

I was slow to set my empty plate near my cup, and then, since I had nothing else to say to him, I started to walk away. But then I realized he had another plate full of food in front of him, so I spun on my heels, grabbed his plate, and flipped its edge up, causing all of the pasta to fall directly onto his lap.

His green eyes lifted to look at me, and I shook my head slightly. Just a teeny, tiny gesture to tell him I was not happy with him, nor would I ever be again. My jaw locked as I turned from him, storming away.

Eh, I’d eat in the morning. I wasn’t too hungry now, anyway.