Page 83 of The Devils' Darling

I beg to differ. You can if you’re in a position of power and they’re young adults just starting out, but I hold my tongue this time. Getting the last word isn’t worth losing my life over.

As we cross the courtyard and reach the double doors into the converted stable block that makes up the smaller gym, I glance up at the expanse of blue above my head. This might be my last chance to see the sky. If he kills me in there, or I get killed escaping, I don’t want my last memories to be the sweaty, musty scent of the gym.

“Open the fucking doors.” Paxton slides the blade along my side in a threat, and I do what he says, scrabbling with shaking fingers to grab the handles.

Once they’re open, he pushes me through, and I stumble. But I take my chance because the knife is no longer in my side.

Pushing to my feet, I run. I race away from him, heading up the stairs. I have no idea what is up here. I recall Camile saying to me once that this space is pretty much unused these days. That doesn’t matter, so long as there are things I can use as a weapon or places I can hide.

Heavy steps pound after me, but I grab a discarded chair from in front of the doors on the small landing and hurl it down at him with a scream. He staggers, swearing.

“You’re fucking dead, bitch,” he yells. “Fucking cunt.”

I don’t hang around to listen to any more, just barrel through the doors and race down the corridor. I see an empty classroom, but it’s utterly deserted, nowhere to hide, and nothing to use to protect myself. Shit.

Heart pounding, I see the same through the second door. There’s no rear staircase. Oh, God, I might have run myself into a dead end.

The final door I come to seems to lead to a deserted office, but there’s still an old filing cabinet in there and a few pieces of furniture. I dash inside and try to push the filing cabinet in front of the door, but he’s already here. He shoves it easily aside and stands in front of me, chest heaving.

He’s staring at me, the bloody tipped knife in his hand, and a cold sense of dread washes over me.

But then he smiles. The maniac smiles. “You always were almost more trouble than you’re worth,” he says. “Almost, but not quite.” His grin widens. “You’re such an epic fuck that all the crap that comes with it makes the pain worthwhile. I am going to fuck that pussy raw when I get you home.”

He backs me against the wall and pushes the knife against my throat. “Just one quick feel. I bet you’re wet.”

He shoves his fingers down my waistband and into my panties. I balk at the feel of his cold, hard fingers probing at me. My brain wants to check out, while my body wants to vomit. He pushes a finger inside me, and I whimper with dismay. Is this where he’s going to rape me? I flush with heat, and then cold. I want to fight—to punch and kick and scream—but I’m frozen in place with the knife at my throat. The room swims around me as tears well, and I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out my attacker’s face.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of my pussy a couple of times, and I cry out with pain.

Paxton gives a growl of annoyance, and, to my surprise, pulls his fingers free of me, and slides his hand back out of my pants. I dare to open my eyes, only to find him frowning at me.

“You gone frigid on me, Mackenzie? You were always such a slut for it. Even when you said you weren’t in the mood, this pussy would be dripping.”

I hold his stare. “I don’t find being threatened with death erotic, asshole.”

“Oh, well, it’s of no matter. I’ll fuck you dry if that’s the way it is going to be. It won’t hurt me, but it will hurt you.”

He caresses the artery in my neck with the knife. “Are you going to be a good girl now?” he demands. “No more games? If you try to run again. I’ll disfigure this pretty face. Don’t think I won’t.”

I nod and blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling.

“Good girl. Let’s go.”

He pulls me out of the room, back along the corridor, and down the stairs. When we hit the small gym, he drags me across the space behind him, my shoes squeaking against the floor. I realize with a sick jolt that he’s heading for the cars that are parked around the back of this outbuilding. No one will see us there. He can steal a car, put me in it, and try to get out of here.

He pulls the ballcap low on his head before he reaches into his back pocket. He takes out zip ties and makes quick work of tying my hands behind my back. The roll of gray tape he slaps over my mouth next is thick. It cuts off any noise I might make.

“It’s not for long, darling, promise. Can’t risk you alerting anyone to your presence as I try to get us out of here.”

The place is under lockdown. No one is going to let him out. They’ll search the car. Crap, they might shoot at the car, and then I could end up dead. If he puts me in the trunk and a stray bullet hits, it could kill me.

I pull back as he tugs me toward the door. He growls and throws me forward so hard I go down on my knees on the wooden floor. Pain slams through my joints, and a wave of sickness rushes over me. I swallow it down as best as I can because if I’m sick, I risk choking.

“There’s a gap in the fence line that I’ve spent a long time making under the cover of darkness. It’s through the woods.” Paxton drags me up by my hair, and white shards of pain spear through my scalp. I scream against the thick tape, though the sound is muffled. “I can get us close in the car, but then you’ll have to run. You slow me down on purpose and I’ll carve my fucking initials in your face. Understood?”

I nod, and he laughs.

“Good girl. It’s amazing how well behaved you can be, when truly incentivized.”

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