Trouble in Hell (Hell Night 1)

Leland’s manacle laugh has us both looking back at him.

“I don’t want you. You were a shit lay when I had you. Your pussy was too loose for my tastes.” He leans forward and grins his nasty smile. “I like the holes I sink into to be young and tight.” His eyes flicker up to mine and he sneers. “Elijah remembers what I like. How I used to drill my cock in his nice snug ass. His was always my favorite.”

Never in my whole fucking life have I ever wanted to rip a person to shreds as much as I do right now. I want to slice his flesh from his bones and bathe in his blood. I want his screams to fill my ears as agonizing pain tears through him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing will satisfy me more than watching the life drain from his perverted eyes. I swear on everything I hold dear, I will make that happen.

“How can you do this?” Remi’s voice fractures “He’s your son. Your flesh and blood. What kind of sick bastard could hurt their son like that?”

“Because he is my son. He’s mine to do with what I will. I created him. I own him.”

Remi stiffens against my chest, and I swear to Christ, if it were possible, fire would be shooting out of her ears right now. I can feel the heat radiating off her body.

“You’re wrong. He’s my son, and I will do whatever I have to, to protect him.”

Fierce and protective, and damn passionate on both.

I’m so fucking proud of Remi in this moment.

Leland shifts Elijah in his arms, and the blanket falls away from his face. He’s awake, looking up at the man holding him curiously.

“And what are you going to do, girl?” He looks down at Elijah and rubs his slimy finger over his cheek. “It looks like I’m the one holding what you want. You do something stupid, and who knows what’ll happen to this little precious bundle of joy.”

Movement out the corner of my eye catches my attention. Without moving my gaze away from Leland, I spot Emo’s shadow from around the corner of the doorframe that leads to the kitchen. He’s behind Leland and to the right. I subtly dig my fingers into Remi’s side, stopping her before she says more and hoping like fuck if she sees Emo she doesn’t give him away.

Distraction. I need a fucking distraction.

“How did you manage to erase all of your records?” I grit the question out.

His expression is snarky. I want to punch all of his teeth out and shove them in his eyes.

“Oh, well, you see, I had this friend who’s a computer whiz and he owed me a few favors.”

Bastard. Just as we expected. I wonder if this guy knew just how fucked up the person was that he was helping.

“Why?” I ask, thinking on the fly. “Why was it always me?” I don’t really care to know, because the answer matters not one fucking bit, but it’ll keep him talking and his attention away from Elijah and what’s going on behind him.

The wrinkles beside his eyes grow as a slow evil smile creeps across his face. His laugh sends chills crawling down my spine.

“Ahh…” he crows. “It’s a fun story actually.” He mock frowns “Your poor sweet Mama and Daddy.”

“There was nothing sweet or poor about my mother and father,” I snarl. “They were sick bastards just like the rest of you.”

“So wrong you are, Elijah. See, your ma and pa never wanted you and that sweet girl Daisy to be part of our monthly traditions. In fact, they were planning to run away into the beautiful fucking sunset with you two. Until we stopped them, that is.”

A scowl break

s over my face. “What in the fuck are you talking about?” My parents never, not once, showed remorse for what Rella and I went through.

Leland smiles so big that his dimple shows. The same one that Elijah has. Thankfully, that’s the only feature my son has of Leland.

“That’s the fun part. You and Daisy weren’t born to Donald and Sandra Benton. You were born to Aiden Latimer and Macy Peterson.”

My world tips sideways and it feels like I’m falling over the peak of a cliff. There’s nothing there to break my fall except for the jagged edges of rock and stone. My blood rushes through my veins so fast that I swear I hear the whoosh in my ears.

How in the hell can that be? He has to be lying. The fucker’s twisted, so there’s no telling what lies he’ll spew. There’s no fucking way Donald and Sandra aren’t my parents.

I focus back on Leland when I hear his voice. It sounds distant, like he’s a hundred yard away, but I hear every single word.

His tone is smug, like he’s enjoying ripping my world a part, which I’m sure he is.