Page 22 of Lucky 14

There’s a puff of air. “You’re no fun.”

Pound, pound, pound. My head is a drum.

I shouldn’t have come here. I need to go home.

Then, the hand lets go. I crumple, stumbling away from them, sucking in a breath. Slowly, the darkness at the edge of my vision recedes, and I whirl to face both of them.

The woman, Riley, grins at me. “Meet my man.”

Her man, the one she called Manson, stares at me with barely-concealed anger. He looks like he could break me in two and wouldn’t bat an eye.

“What the fuck was that?” I rasp.

Manson raises an eyebrow and looks at Riley, ignoring me. She just throws her hands in the air. “You left me unattended. What was I supposed to do?”

Manson growls at her. Actually growls.

I take a step back.

“Get back to the room. Now.” Manson starts to back Riley down the hall, and I watch my only source of answers leaving. A rush of adrenaline fills me.

“Wait.” I stumble after them. “I need my phone.” I need to get out of here. Need to find out what’s going on.

Both ignore me, Manson shoving Riley down the hall while she bickers with him. Then, they’re gone. As I round the corner, the elevator doors are shutting. Running, I pound on the down button.

They don’t open.

I stall, completely at a loss. What in the actual fuck is going on? Did I just chase after them like he didn’t choke-slam me against the wall?

That’s assault.

I take a step back, fingers ghosting along my throat. I need to call the cops. I need to call the fucking cops.

I start for my room to make the call, only to realize I don’t have a phone. Because they took it.

Furiously, I jot notes down.

I wonder what the hell calling the cops even looks like here. How long will it take?

Slowly, the couple’s conversation fills my mind. Riley called me a toy.

Something is definitely not right here.

I step back into my room, an overwhelming amount of emotions washing over me. Fear, anger, confusion, and as the door clicks behind me, loneliness.

Something tells me there are no cops here. I’m alone. One hundred percent alone. Always alone. Poppy doesn’t even know I’m here. I told her I was doing something to prove my love, but I don’t know if she even saw the email. Would she come looking for me if something happened?

I stare at the door, a tight feeling wrapping my gut and squeezing. Because I know the answer to that.

She wouldn’t.

No one would. Well, possibly Riley. But I’m pretty sure I don’t want anything to do with whatever Riley has to offer.

My ears start ringing, and it feels like something very bad is about to happen. And I’m getting a horrible feeling that no one will know or care when it does.

CHAPTER TEN

Twelve Years Old