Page 35 of Lock Up the Darkness

And then I carefully peered around through the small window in the steel door.

Thankfully, I was able to see inside with the strip light in the ceiling having been left on.

It seemed to be a workshop. An impressive collection of tools and implements lined the walls, along with several workbenches. Car and motorcycle parts that I’d grown familiar with thanks to my uncle were organized neatly on shelves over to the right.

I tried the door handle, finding it unlocked.

Stepping inside, I caught sight of something I hadn’t been able to see from my position before. There, tucked in the corner on a stand, was Killian’s Sportster.

It was in the process of being fixed up.

A replacement fender caught my eye.

Not just a replacement, but some insane level custom work that had transformed it. It looked even better than the original wing detailing.

I pushed down the interest it had sparked and hurried to the door connecting into the house. Turning the knob and finding it also unlocked—yeah, that wasn’t suspicious in the least—I opened it slowly, scanning through to the other side.

I could see a kitchen just beyond empty of any partygoers. The workshop must’ve had some soundproofing, because the moment I’d opened the door, the heavy bass of the hard rock blasting through the mansion inundated me.

Cautiously, I made my way through and stepped into the main house.

Lavish luxury surrounded me. Black marble floors, pricey abstract art in what appeared to be even pricier silver and gold frames. That fancy textured wallpaper in a bold black and gray design. There were even suits of armor lining the corridors and collectible items in glass cases displayed every few feet. I peered into each room in my search for Liza and they all followed the same theme—dark and bold colors, stylish statement wall art, state-of-the-art entertainment units, and a couple with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled to the brim.

Beyond the décor, and the thing drawing my attention the most, were the half-naked bodies gyrating to the booming rock music, students humping on what seemed like every available service. In one of the salons, I even caught sight of four guys lined up in front of four girls on their knees, their mouths wide open ready to service their cocks that were pulled out of the pants. In the same room there had been two guys fucking a girl on the couch from either end and making out with each other as they railed her to within an inch of her life. Well, that room seemed to have a definitive theme. In another, there was heavy smoke coming from too many joints to count, then people gathered around a pool table snorting lines. I came to an open area and even found a keg stand contest taking place.

And through it all, still no sign of Liza.

At least scanning through the throngs of college students living it up for any sign of Liza was easier than it should’ve been on account of the fact that I was looking for bright pink hair.

I turned the corner and came to a set of patio doors that led out to the mammoth backyard where another area of the party was in full swing.

There was a massive sunken swimming pool and it was being surrounded by people dancing and writhing, some naked on sun loungers and just chilling, others playing what looked like some dirty version of volleyball in the water. One girl had her pussy grinding on some guy’s face as he held her up and ate her out while she continued trying to hit the ball over the net, while screaming intermittently from the pleasure he was giving her.

Wow, this party was certainly something.

I continued scanning, past a patio table, some checkered cozy looking furniture, the makeshift bar in the corner.

And then I zeroed in on a raised platform on which sat three thrones.

Yeah, actual golden thrones with black snake effigies swirling up the thick legs.

People were gathered around, swaying to the beat of the music, which was more sensual, a slow jam playing out, in this area of the party. It really was like they were actually worshipping the thrones.

Two of them were empty with a crown on the seat of each.

But the one on the far left most certainly wasn’t.

There Killian sat draped over the seat in a pair of gold board shorts, his upper half bare, a crown on his head, as two girls on their knees either side of the throne ran their hands up and down his thighs and rubbed their breasts all over the ridiculous piece of furniture itself.

His eyes were closed but he wasn’t asleep, his arm wrapped around the waist of another one’s hip, his hand gliding up and down her back. For the first time I saw the infamous mark of the Infidels on him, as his other arm rested relaxed behind his head. A tattoo on his inner forearm of a fearsome looking skull, a lion protruding from the left and black jagged wings from the right. Beneath it was the inscription: Infidels Reign.

The most shocking thing that had me literally grinding to a halt was the vibrant-pink hair swinging wildly from side to side as the person it belonged to ground all over his lap. He squeezed her ass and her silver mini-dress rode up, baring a thong beneath. I looked away and raised my gaze to him.

He opened his eyes and I jolted as he stared right back at me.

They flamed as he drank in every inch of me and it was all I could do not to react, to flinch under the lustful scrutiny.

I forced myself to look away and focus on the shock value of the scene before me.

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