Make You Beg

I arch a brow; our little doll is losing her mind, and it’s a sight to see.

She steps toward him, but Scout grabs her again. Stepping behind her, he grabs her hands, pulling them up and holding them to the back of her neck, causing her shirt to rise and show off her stomach and belly piercing.

“Fucking do it.” She laughs at Monroe.

“God, you are a crazy bitch,” Dax shakes his head.

“I’d gladly die to prove you’re a murderer,” she snaps.

He walks over to her, raising the gun to her chin, forcing her head back. She bares her teeth as Scout holds her tightly in place. Rellik takes a step toward them, and I place my hand on his chest to stop him and shake my head. Let’s see how this plays out.

“You think if I kill you, it’ll prove you right?” He shakes his head. “Stupid little doll. They’d never find your body. No, everyone would just think you ran away like the frightened little bitch you are.”

“I’m not afraid of you, you murdering rapist!” she says through gritted teeth. “You did it, and we both know it …”

He slams the gun down on the counter and wraps his hands around her throat. Taking away her air, he places his nose to hers. “You can’t prove it, Henley. Or I’d be in prison.” He lets go of her and storms out of the kitchen with Rellik on his ass.

Scout pushes her forward, shoving her into the edge of the island. She lets out a grunt, her body bent at the waist.

She stays that way for a second, taking in a few deep breaths before she lifts her forearm, shoving her hair off her face and looking up at me. “Be careful what you ask for, little doll.”

HENLEY

I am so fucking furious I could breathe fire. My hands shake, and my teeth are clenched. I glare at Law as his eyes roam my face, my wild hair, and I swallow, trying not to grab the closest thing and stab him in the face with it.

After a second, he turns and exits the kitchen, leaving me alone to calm myself. But instead of taking deep breaths, my eyes drop to where the gun Monroe held to my chin is still lying on the counter.

I might have grown up in Texas, but I’ve never held a gun before. My father has them. Hell, everyone in Texas owns at least one. Except for me.

My shaky hands reach out and pick it up. The cold metal feels heavy in my hands. As if instinct takes over, my fingers wrap around the black grip, and my pointer finger fits perfectly against the trigger.

I hear their laughter carry from the living room, and it makes my skin crawl. How can they just ignore what happened?

“You’ve got to stop fucking her, man,” Law says to one of them.

“Why? She likes it. Begs for it.” It’s Dax who answers, and my chest aches at his words. How many times I’ve heard that Brenda was asking for it. That she probably got off on it. “Who am I to deny her what she wants?” Dax goes on.

Who the fuck are they talking about? I haven’t seen Dax around any girl at school lately. Ever since they picked me to be their next project, they haven’t been seen with anyone besides Scout and Jamie.

“I watched a horror film once where the guy chased down the girl. Once he caught up with her in the middle of the woods, he cut her face off and wore it as a mask. So, while he was fucking her, she had to stare at it.” Law explains.

A long silence follows before they all burst out laughing. “Dude, you have some sick fucking issues.” Rellik is the one who states the obvious.

“I said it was in a movie I watched, not my fantasy,” Law argues.

“Yeah, but you probably jacked off while watching it,” Monroe adds.

Without thought, I lift the gun and walk down the hall. I step into the open living room, and their laughter comes to a stop as four sets of eyes look up at me.

My eyes find Rellik first. His are on the weapon in my hands, and he swallows, lowering the beer bottle from his lips. “Hen …”

“Shut up!” I shout.

Dropping the bottle, he holds his hands up in the air in surrender.

The end of the barrel turns to Law on its own. He reaches down and adjusts his hardening dick. “You’re so fucking sick,” I say with disgust, not sure which one turns him on more—the movie he was talking about or me standing here with a gun pointed at them.

He doesn’t deny it. Just gives me a chilling smile.

I point the gun at Scout. He too looks unfazed while he sits with his cell in one hand and a full beer bottle in the other. His eyes are on mine, and without a word, he tips the beer back, taking a swig.