The Ritual

She looks up at me. Her pretty blue eyes look unfocused and tired. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know Matt is the reason you chose me.”

I sigh. She’s not far from the truth. “Blake …”

“I will not be punished for something he has done, Ryat,” she says softly. “You can fuck me, but I told myself that Matt will not dictate my life anymore.”

I run a hand through my hair at her confession. She’s not wrong. Matt is why I had to pick her. But it wouldn’t have happened without her. “Why did you let me choose you?” I ask.

She gives me a weak smile. “Because you made me feel wanted.”

Matt is a fool and a dead man!

“I hate everyone,” she goes on, eyes closed once again. “My mom for making me marry him. Matt for blaming me for you hating him. And you …” She trails off and whispers, “I’ll just run away once you’re done with me.”

I stand staring down at her, my hands fisting. Why the fuck was he even talking to her in the first place? He told her I’m marrying Cindy? That may be true, but we don’t discuss that shit. How would he know that?

When she starts snoring softly, I place the handcuffs in her nightstand, then I cover her up with her comforter, kissing her forehead good night.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

BLAKELY

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL fall day here in Texas. “Bad Intentions” by Niykee Heaton is blasting in my ears while I run the old trail behind my parents’ house. I’ve grown up here. Lived in the same house all my life. My father’s office is in downtown Dallas, but we live quite a ways from there on twenty acres. He commutes, but for the most part, he’s not even in the state. He has to travel a lot for work.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I come to a stop. Breathing heavily, I yank the earbuds from my ears. “Hello?” I ask, looking around. To my left is a small pond. Other than that, it’s just trees back here. “You’re being paranoid, Blakely.” Matt gets on me all the time for running this trail. He says it’s unsafe.

I put the earbuds back in and start jogging again. I’ve been at it for almost thirty minutes. I’m almost to my turning around point. The song changes to “Mirrors” by Natalia Kills as the trail turns to the right, and I see something out of the corner of my eye. “What the …?” I stop and rip the earbuds out, turning around to go back. “Hello?” I shout this time. “Anyone there?” There are bobcat sightings around here, so maybe it’s an animal of some sort.

When I’m again convinced I’m losing it because there’s nothing here, I put my earbuds back in and turn back to continue. I jump when I see someone standing in front of me in the middle of the trail. My heart hammers in my chest. It’s a man dressed in black jeans and a black short-sleeved T-shirt, stance wide and arms down by his side. He’s got to be over six feet, and he’s wearing combat boots.

My thighs tighten, wondering how long he’s been following me. My earbuds are still blaring in my ears, and I reach up to take them out in case he’s talking to me. He’s wearing a mask—a white one—so I’m unable to see his face, but something about him seems familiar.

He takes a step toward me, and I take one back. He stops, and I swallow the knot that forms in my throat while my nipples harden.

No. No. No.

Not again.

I can feel his eyes on my legs. I decided to run in shorts this morning. My pulse is racing, and my breathing picks up, making my tits bounce in my sports bra.

“I’ve been watching you.” My pussy throbs at his confession, and tears sting my eyes. Even his voice sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before? “You run here every day.” He tilts his masked head to the side.

“Please …” I whimper, placing my hands up at him. “I just want to finish my run,” I say, slowly taking a step back as my body heat rises at the thought of us being out here all alone.

“Well”—he chuckles behind his mask—“I don’t know if you’ll finish, but I will.” The man charges for me.

I spin around to run, but he barrels into my back, knocking me to the ground. I try fighting him, but he’s on my back. He grabs my hands and wraps something rough around my wrists, securing them behind me, and I feel wetness pool between my legs.

God, no.

He grabs my hair and yanks me to my feet, pulling me off the trail. Then he’s shoving me deeper into the woods. I trip and fall down onto the ground. Twigs and branches dig into my bare legs. I go to get up, but his fist hits my back, knocking me down again. “Stay down, bitch!” he orders, pushing my face to the rough ground.