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I rush to take off my clothes and step into my shower to wash away the guilt of what I just did. Unfortunately for me, my impure thoughts never waver, and I end up jacking off two more times in the shower, the cold spray of water doing nothing to cool my lust for the one girl I should never want to touch with my bloodstained hands.
When I hear a notification on my phone, I finally step out of the shower and head back into my bedroom to find my phone in my jeans pocket. A low growl escapes me when I see that the tracking app I installed in Zoey’s phone when she wasn’t looking tells me she is no longer safe and sound, tucked away in her bed back at her dorm. The little heathen is on the move again, no doubt trying to hook up with that jackass I found her with earlier tonight, hoping that man is enough to scratch the itch I left.
He’s not, and he never will be.
Like me, she needs to get off, and while I found some release in my fantasies, Zoey isn’t as easily satisfied. She needs the real deal. She needs to lick the sweat off her lover’s skin and feel her back arch as he fills her to the brim. Fantasies won’t cut it when the real thing is so much better.
My nostrils flare as I grip my phone in my hand, almost crushing it into a pulp with the thought of someone else making her come tonight. Pure hatred of this nameless asshole has me quickly getting dressed, determined to put a stop to their encounter.
Just as I pull a clean T-shirt over my head, I stop and rethink my actions. I fall onto my bed and just stare at the white ceiling, counting my rapid heartbeats until they even out.
I can’t go after Zoey.
If I do, I know what will happen.
I’ll end up scaring off whatever fucker she’s with, and then I’ll succumb to her will and give her what she truly wants—me. And if I do that, then all bets are off.
Ghost or not, there wouldn’t be a person on God’s green Earth who could tear me away from her ever again. I let that happen too many times already.
As if this night hasn’t fucked with my head enough, memories of other men who wanted to take her from me crawl into the forefront of my mind, and I’m suddenly fifteen again, trapped in the house of horrors.
Shit.
I’m late.
I’m so fucking late.
Like a fool, I let myself fall asleep after dinner, and now I’m late.
Zoey must be losing her mind, wondering where I am.
Unlike her older sister, she doesn’t sleep much. I don’t think she’s slept more than a few hours a night since the day she arrived here, and I learned the hard way that nothing good happens in this group home after midnight.
That’s when the devils come out to play.
Not wanting her to share in that lesson, I rush upstairs to the third floor where all the girls sleep. When I finally reach the girls’ floor and stumble into the narrow corridor, my stomach churns, finding little Zoey dressed in only a large, tattered T-shirt as she shifts from side to side, unable to pass with Roland standing in her way.
“Come here. Don’t be shy, girl. I won’t hurt you,” Roland coos at Zoey, flashing her all his predatory teeth.
Not wanting the sick fuck to lay a hand on her little golden head, I rush to her side and push her behind me.
“Leave her alone,” I growl with all the courage I can muster.
Roland straightens his spine, his menacing smile widening on his lips.
“Now, now, Gray. You can’t keep her all to yourself. We have a visitor who is dying to meet her. This one likes them small, and your girl here is just his type.”
“Fuck you. He can’t have her,” I seethe through gritted teeth, stepping closer to him while making sure Zoey is out of his reach. “I swear I’ll scream bloody murder if you so much as touch her.”
Roland’s gaze bounces from me to Zoey, and he frowns when he sees I’m not bullshitting him. Not everyone in this house is aware of the twisted games the night shift gets into, and me waking everyone up is something Roland would rather avoid. I’m not sure who’s on call tonight, but I’m hoping at least one of them isn’t on the old man’s bankroll. If they all are, then I’m shit out of luck. The fine hair on the nape of my neck stands on end as I watch him debate if calling my bluff is worth it.
When his tense shoulders relax before my very eyes, I know I fucked up.
“I just remembered something.” He smiles sinisterly. “Our visitor tonight has varied tastes. There’s something that appeals to him better than breaking in pretty little fillies. He likes taming wild stallions so much more. Take one guess as to whom I’m talking about.”
My blood chills, knowing exactly whom he’s referring to—the general. He’s the only one I’ve ever met who treats his victims like livestock, using prods and hot irons to leave his mark on their flesh. I swallow dryly, the cold fingers of unrepressed fear choking me from within.
“So what do you say, Gray? It’s not your night today, but I’m sure he’ll make an exception for you.”
