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There’s a strangled noise that comes out of me in protest. But he’s already put the vehicle in park before I register where we are. For a long second, I’m frozen, thinking that he’s about to do everything he just threatened me with. And I’m entirely conflicted about how that makes me feel.
Do I want him to fuck me right here in this car, out in the open? Would I even be able to fight him off if he tried? He’s already proved just how easily he can toss me around in the gym with my pathetic efforts to learn self-defense amounting to nothing against this man.
There’s a swirling sensation in my gut, and heat pools between my thighs.
A look of pure mischief twitches on his full lips, and he reaches over the middle console to unclasp my seatbelt for me. I flinch as the sharp noise of the buckle sounds like a gun going off in the thorny silence wrapping around us.
Oh, god. Is this the moment his resolve snaps, and he takes what he wants from me?
Ky braces one elbow on the armrest between us and his other hand on the dashboard. He’s dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans, and a worn leather jacket, looking like the lovechild of temptation and illicit decision-making.
I shrink backward toward my door as he presses closer. My pussy is throbbing, but I’m also walking a fine line of terror at this moment because I have no idea what is about to happen next.
His green eyes darken as he surveys me for a long moment. I’ve quite possibly forgotten how to breathe.
“Keep lying to yourself. But I see you for the horny little bitch you are.” That wicked mouth of his twists. “Now, get your ass out of the car. We’re here.”
With that, he’s gone, and his door has slammed, and I’m left trembling in a state of unchecked arousal. Holy shit. I’m in way too deep and need to calm my goddamn hormones down. Am I ovulating? Because I swear each time this man gives me those mossy green eyes, I’m ready to climb into his lap. So before he can drag me out of the vehicle and discover just how much of a panting mess I’ve become, I rush to let myself out and follow behind him on slightly unsteady legs.
The sight that greets me as I exit the car is a warehouse, with big metal roller doors and nothing to indicate what goes on inside.
Probably torture.
A hit of salt air rushes at me, and glancing around, this definitely has the feeling of being near the port. It must be right on the outskirts of Port Macabre.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting inside, and the sound of the heavy metal door we just walked through clangs abruptly behind me. Everything about this feels ominous. But I’m also morbidly curious as to why I’ve been brought here.
It seems like a lot of effort to drive all the way down here when they could do whatever they want to dispose of my body amid the isolated forest out on the peninsula.
Ky walks over to flick on a light. The single bulb splutters to life, and I see a small stack of moving boxes. What this is all about, I can’t possibly tell so I shoot him a confused expression.
“Boxes?”
“Open them up. You’ll see.” He shrugs. Leaning one shoulder up against the corrugated iron wall, with his arms folded across his chest.
“Why do I feel like there might be cobras in here. Or body parts.” I mutter as I bump one with the toe of my boot.
“I’m pretty certain you’ll like what’s inside.”
“Is it a box of hand grenades? Cyanide? Either will work perfectly for what I have planned for you three.” I prop my hands on my hips.
Ky’s lips twist into a devilish grin.
Nope. No. Not looking at that thank you very much.
To avoid revealing the way he’s so effortlessly playing my body, I crouch down and dive into opening the first box. Fuck it.
As I pull open the cardboard flaps, my mouth drops open. Sitting at the top of the box is my tattoo equipment. All neatly packaged in protective wrapping. I shuffle some of the things to one side and see that the whole box is filled with familiar items from my studio.
There’s barely a second before I fall upon the next box; this time, it opens to reveal clothes from my wardrobe. My own clothes.
I honestly don’t know how to feel right now. Am I relieved to have my personal effects delivered here for me, or am I immensely pissed that these three men have wandered into my home and packed up my life without so much as a word.
No need to wonder how they got in. They’ve had my phone, wallet, and keys ever since the night they drugged me.
Oh, and being members of an all-powerful secret society would have guaranteed they could access whatever they desired from my life, too.
“Who…why…” I can’t really form words. My brain is a little overwhelmed with everything at this point in time.
