Hunted for the Holidays

Chapter 6

6

I DID SOMETHING BAD BY TAYLOR SWIFT

M y eyes flutter open to the soft glow of morning light spilling in from the window. I attempt to roll over, seeking just a little more sleep, but my muscles scream in protest. Pain radiates through my shoulders, jolting me awake.

Of course, how could I forget about the hellish holiday retreat I stumbled into.

I flex my fingers, testing my circulation. They’re slightly numb, little pinpricks of pain stabbing from the inside out with the motion, but seem okay. Well, okay as they can be while tied to a headboard. I shift around on the bed, trying to sit more upright in order to alleviate the stress on my wrists. My core aches as I do so and the memories of what my captors did to me comes flooding back.

Derek may have not let me come, but I can’t deny how good it felt to have his broad tongue massaging my clit. When he screwed a thick digit into me, I thought my soul was going to leave my body. I’ve never been touched like that before. My father made sure that I stayed completely untouched. Tampons were even forbidden. I was definitely too terrified to ever even slip a finger inside myself. The repercussions I would’ve faced outweighed any desire I felt to explore my own pleasure. The doctor checks were every six months, and before I was traded off to Kit, three different doctors of his choosing had to make an assessment to confirm my purity.

There’s nothing quite like laying in a room full of old male doctors who take turns slipping the tip of their pinky inside you while your father and soon-to-be fiance look on. They all agreed—I’m completely pure and ready to be bred. Well, I was completely pure. Now, I’ve been touched . The realization is… thrilling .

I know with every fiber of my being that my wedding night with Kit would’ve been nothing short of brutal. He would’ve ripped me in half, eager to feast on my pain as he chased his own pleasure. That was going to be my life–him crawling on top of me anytime he wanted, using me to his will, and breaking down every last piece of my soul until I was just a flesh fuck bag.The thought causes a shiver to creep up my arms.

I know that my captors used me for their own pleasure, but they also made me feel good. In the forest and last night, I felt things I’ve never felt before. And seen. Oh god , when Wyatt pulled out that monster of a cock with a ring through the top and pushed it inside my mouth, I thought for sure I was going to choke to death. Derek may be longer, but Wyatt’s a lot thicker. My pussy throbs at the memory, wetness coating my inner thighs as I squeeze them together beneath the scratchy quilt.

What the fuck is wrong with me that I’m getting turned on by the memories of the two men who killed my fiance and kidnapped me, forcing themselves on me? I clench my thighs tighter in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the throb between my legs. I can’t deny the sad truth; that I want more from these men. Much more.

I let out a sigh, throwing my head back against the metal railing of the headboard. It creaks loudly and the gold knob adorning the post clatters to the ground. I cringe at the noise, expecting Derek or Wyatt to storm in here at any moment and dish out a punishment, but no one comes.

“Derek?” I call out nervously. “I have to pee!”

It’s not completely a lie, but surely that should get their attention since they left me tied to the bed naked. I wait a little longer, straining to listen for the sounds of boots thundering against the old wooden floor, but still I’m met with nothing but continued silence.

“Wyatt!” I shout, raising my voice.

Silence.

“Derek! Wyatt!” I yell, thrashing my hands around, the bed creaking and whining with the motion. “I’m going to pee the bed, goddamn it!”

My throat tightens as I start to panic in earnest. They wouldn’t leave me alone here, would they? The last time I thought I was alone, I walked straight into a trap. I wasn’t tied to the bed then, though. Darting a glance up to where the rope binds my wrists and hooks over the post, a gleam of silver catches my eyes. Without the decorative knob, the exposed point of a thick screw sticks up in the air.

I swallow roughly, my mind spinning. If I get caught trying to escape again, I don’t know if my punishment will be something as simple as edging. But I have to try, right? It’s absolutely insane to think that any of this is normal or that I could have any semblance of a future with these monsters. I should try to escape.

Pinning my bottom lip between my teeth, I carefully start to drag the rope back and forth across the sharp edges of the screw, the rough fibers biting further into my wrists as I try to saw myself free. I’m starting to lose hope, heat from the friction burning my already raw skin. Just as I’m about to abandon the plan, though, the first little piece gives way, frayed edges springing up.

Hell yes!

With all the energy I can muster, I move faster, pulling the rope tighter against the screw. More pieces snap until finally, the screw cuts through the last layer of the first loop. Blood rushes to my fingertips, waves of static vibrating under my skin at the first sign of relief. I wiggle around enough that the knots Wyatt so expertly tied loosen, eventually falling to the ground.

Jumping up from the bed, I feel warmth trickle down my wrists, but I don’t have time to bother with inspecting the wounds. If the guys are gone, it won’t be for long. There’s no way in hell they’d leave me here, bound or not, for too long. Derek sliced away most of my clothes, but miraculously, my leggings were saved. I slip them on quickly and rush to the door. Surely one of the guys have a shirt of some sort I can steal.

I twist the doorknob slowly, begging the hinges not to squeak as I ease it open. The hall is quiet as I tip-toe down it towards the other doors. The first one is wide open, and I peer inside to see a camouflage duffle bag resting on the neatly made bed. If I had to guess, it’s Wyatt’s room. Derek doesn’t seem the type to tuck his covers so tightly.

I dart inside and rifle through the bag, pulling out a dark green hoodie. It swallows me whole when I pull it on overhead, the hem hitting just above my knees, but it’ll have to do. Tugging on a pair of thick wool socks, I leave the room to hunt down more supplies for my escape.

Finding a small nylon backpack, I fill it with bottled water, a rogue knife and a flashlight, adjusting the straps on my shoulders as I step out the cabin and onto the porch. The cold bite of the wind cuts across my face, burning more than any of Kit’s slaps ever did. I pull down the skeletal ski mask that I found in Derek’s room, bound down from the porch, and run .

I have no idea where I’m going. I’m directionally challenged, to say the least. Even with the navigation package in my Range Rover, I still manage to get lost multiple times a week.

My ski boots are heavy as I push myself further into the cover of the trees. The thick pines conceal most of the sunlight, causing me to stumble a few times, but I keep going. Adrenaline floods my system the further I get, my lungs burning with each breath until I finally stop to rest.

A chill races down my spine as I shove up the ski mask and the icy air meets the sheen of sweat gathered on my skin. My heart hammers in my chest as I double over with my hands on my knees, gulping in air.

As my breathing slows, I swivel my head around and try to decide which way to go. To the right, the trees start to thin, making me think it could open up and lead to a trail. I slowly start in that direction, looking over my shoulder at every single snap of a twig or rustle of branches, paranoid that the guys have discovered I’m gone.

It’s fine, Charlotte. Standing here only gives them an advantage. Just keep walking.

The sun glares off the undisturbed snow in the clearing, the pines flocked with a light dusting of white. The view is breathtaking. If Kit did anything right, it was choosing such a beautiful place to spend Christmas. Murder and kidnapping aside, it really is a lovely holiday location.

Taking a few more minutes to soak up the view, my heart leaps into my throat at what sounds like voices in the distance. I can’t make out what they’re saying or how many there are, but it definitely sounds like a group.

Excitement surges through me and I take off in the direction they sound like they’re coming from. I can get help, I can go home, I can take a bubble bath in the whirlpool tub with a nice glass of champagne... the mere thought of my luxurious life drives my feet to move faster.

I near a rocky edge, the voices getting louder as they reverberate around the valley below. I’ve never been so excited to see a group of burly strangers before in my life. I’m about to scream for their attention when I hear my name, and it’s like being doused in a bucket of ice water, freezing me on the spot and stealing my voice.

How do they know my name? No one was supposed to know we were out here. Kit didn’t want anyone to be near us on this getaway, hence the renting of the whole damn mountain.

I sink to my knees, keeping myself out of sight as I listen in on their conversation.

“Remember, recovering Charlotte is the primary objective. Kit is nothing more than the possibility of an additional payday.”

“I can’t believe that crazy old bastard put a five-million-dollar bounty on the pair of them. If they’ve been gone for days past when they were supposed to return, they’re either dead or ran off together.”

“Yeah, that pussy must be worth a fortune if he’s willing to pay that much to have it returned to the next highest bidder.”

W hat the fuck? My dad? He’s seriously just going to auction me off to the next wealthy asshole in line? Continue with the wedding like nothing's wrong, even though my fiance was murdered before my eyes?

“It doesn’t matter why. Secure the little bitch, unharmed, and we return her fully intact to her dad. What he does with her after that is his own twisted business.”

There are some more murmurs, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of blood whooshing through my ears. I can’t go back, not to Daddy. Kit wasn’t a good man, but the monster that’s next could be even worse. The monster you know is safer than the one you don’t.

My vision blurs as hot tears well in my eyes. What do I do now? If I go back to the cabin, Derek will kill me, and if he doesn’t, surely Wyatt will have no problem snapping my neck and feeding me to the bears.

The men’s voices draw closer.

Shit, they’re coming this way!

Swiping my gloved hands across my face to clear my eyes, I push to my feet and hurry towards the trees. I’m eager to be cloaked in the shadows they provide before the men make it up the hill. I run and run and run, until I feel as though I might collapse. My lips are chapped, throat parched, and when I no longer hear the grumbles of their voices, I stop to get a drink.

Pulling a bottle of water from the backpack, I crack the lid and bring it to my lips. The water is cool as it slides down my throat. As I replace the lid, I catch the flicker of movement in my periphery.

My head whips around, gaze colliding with two sets of eyes- forest green and espresso brown- each burning bright with feral rage. A blood-curdling scream rips from my throat as the bottle in my hand falls to the ground. There’s no point in trying to beg or plead. There’s no reasoning with the devil, and there definitely isn’t any reasoning with two of them.

“Look brother,” Derek tuts, his lips spreading into a feral grin. “We found ourselves a lost little bunny, all alone in the woods.”