“Why are you laughing?” I growled.
“Because no one knows you’re here, do they?” he taunted, sounding delighted. “And whoever does, meant to leave you anyway. It’ll be a month before another resupply team shows up.”
I closed my eyes for a split-second, his meaning clear.
“A whole month,” he mused.
His eyes fell down my body, and I absorbed the full implication of my situation.
I was in the middle of nowhere with who-knew-how-many men who’d been without any source of vice or contact with the outside world for who-knew-how-long, one of them who had a great desire to torture me if he ever got his hands on me again.
And, according to Taylor, I had little hope for any help in the next month.
Someone went to great lengths to bring me here and make sure my arrival went undetected. Was there really no attendant on the property? Security? Surveillance? Anyone with control of the prisoners?
I ground my teeth together, having no fucking idea what the hell I was going to do, but I needed to do it fast.
But then I heard something, and I shot my eyes up to Taylor, barks and howls echoing outside.
“What is that?” I asked.
Wolves? The sounds were getting closer.
He shot his eyes up, looking at the front door behind me and then back down to me. “The hunting party,” he replied. “They must be back early.”
The hunting party.
Will.
And how many other prisoners that might be just as creepy and threatening as this guy…
The howls were outside the house now, and I looked up at Taylor, unable to calm my breathing. What would happen when they came inside and saw me?
But he just smiled down at me. “Please do run,” he said. “We’re dying for some fun.”
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The horsemen will return!
Did you know Will’s cousin, Misha, has his own story? It can be read as a complete stand-alone and is available through Kindle Unlimited. Turn the page to sample the first chapter of Punk 57!
Dear Misha,
So, have I ever told you my secret shame?
And no, it’s not watching Teen Mom like you. Go ahead and try to deny it. I know you don’t have to sit there with your sister, man. She’s old enough to watch TV by herself.
No, actually, it’s far worse, and I’m a little embarrassed to tell you. But I think negative feelings should be released. Just once, right?
You see, there’s a girl at school. You know the kind. Cheerleader, popular, gets everything she wants… I hate to admit this, especially to you, but a long time ago I wanted to be her.
Part of me still does.
You would absolutely hate her. She’s everything we can’t stand. Mean, cavalier, superficial… The kind who doesn’t have a thought stay in her head too long or else she needs a nap, right? I’ve always been fascinated with her, though.