Page 86 of Things Get Dark

“Pumpkin,” I reply automatically, my body warming when that earns me a smile from those biteable lips.

“Good girl.” I melt when those words pass his lips, a small, involuntary moan slipping past mine, and by the way his smile becomes devilish, I just told him all about what I suspect is my praise kink. “If you want to stop, just use that word and we’ll all back off.”

“All?” The question comes out like a squeak as his warm palm cups my cheek.

“We’ve been waiting for a beautiful doe like you for a long while, Foxglove,” he tells me softly, his thumb caressing my skin in a way that has me nuzzling into his touch.How did he know my name?

I don’t know what to say to that, how to express all the emotions that are swirling around inside me. I’m terrified because this is so beyond my comfort zone it’s unreal. But there’s excitement and a longing to explore things I’ve only read about in my dark romance books yet never had the chance to experience in real life.

“The others are waiting, little one. I’ll give you a head start. So you get to the count of five, okay?” He waits for my mind to catch up, his voice a soft touch that makes me want to stay here with him.

“Okay…” I pause, unable to stop the way my face rubs into his hot palm. “What’s your name?”

He gives me that beautiful smile again, the one that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“Jinx, but you call me Master.” My eyes widen just as heat floods my core. “Try it.”

“Yes, Master,” spills from my lips before my brain has even engaged, my cheeks flushing pink.Did I just do that?

“You’re going to be so good for us, Little Doe. Now, run along.” With a last squeeze, he lowers his hand from my cheek, his fingertips brushing my skin. “Five.”

Jinx

I watch, utterly fucking captivated as her startling amber eyes blink, then go wide again before she spins on her heels and dashes off. That little fucking skirt lifts as she spins, flashing an ass that I need to sink my teeth into and mark. There’ll be time for that, and more, later.

“The doe is on the run,” I whisper into our comms, smiling when whoops and hollers sound over the radio.

When Devlin told us about her the moment he let her in, and we saw her on the CCTV screen, I knew she was the one. The one who desperately craves everything she knows she shouldn’t. And we will be the ones to educate her, to show her how depraved our pleasure can be.

Foxglove. Her name is fitting, a beautiful flower that’s poisonous to all who consume it. And we will consume her until all she knows is us, all she craves is our touch. We will ruin her for anyone else. Then, if she can come through the other side, we will keep her.

Others have come before, though none ever so innocent-looking. So pure. We may have even scored ourselves a virgin, though it wouldn’t matter if she’s not because what we have to teach her she has never experienced before either way.

“How much time does she have left, Jinx?” Corbin, one of the triplets, asks. Excitement laces his tone, and I can just imagine him and his brothers champing at the bit to get to her, but they won’t do anything until I give them the go-ahead. It’s always been this way, ever since we found each other in foster care. As I was the oldest, I fell into leadership naturally, and though it’sa weight on my shoulders, it’s a burden I gladly carry to keep them, my chosen family safe.

“You fuckers better save some for me,” Devlin grumbles, the noise of the crowd telling me he’s still checking tickets out front.

“You can have our leftovers.” Corvus cackles and I smile when Devlin curses him out.

“Boys,” I chide, their voices stopping immediately. I fucking love the power. The rush of being able to tell others what to do is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. “There’ll be more than enough for all of us. Devlin, I’ll send someone to cover you so you can join us. Her safe word is pumpkin.” I pause, letting the tension build until it crackles along my skin. “Corbin, Corvus, Crawford?”

“Yes, boss?” two voices answer. I’m not surprised when Crawford keeps quiet, because he is a man of few words.

“Go catch our doe.”

Foxglove

My breaths saw out of my chest as I run through the swirling smoke, unable to see much in front of me but letting my instincts guide me. This place must be vast, because although I can hear screams, it’s as if they’re in the distance, muffled and blurry, and I’m all alone as my feet pound on the tarmac.

I come to an abrupt halt as a building emerges in front of me out of the gloom. A house. A haunted house by the looks of it. Perhaps I should hide rather than keep running? Jinx lookedhella fit, and I’m sure whoever else he’s talking about could outrun me any day.

Not giving myself time to overthink things, I dash up the old wooden stairs and yank open the front door. It creaks and groans like a witch’s cackle, and I wince, hoping I didn’t just give myself away. With measured steps, I try to be as quiet as possible, all the hair on my body standing on end as I make my way down the hall.

Cobwebs and dust fill the space, old pictures decorates the walls, and flickering lights lend a really fucking spooky atmosphere.

“Little Doe…” The whisper has my pulse quickening, and I twirl, gasping when a tall, dark figure waits in the doorway. “You really are a delicious treat.”

He steps towards me, the door closing behind him and leaving us in muted darkness. I can’t move, my body frozen as he gets closer, stopping just in front of me, limed in the light of a wall sconce. Like the clown guy and Jinx, he’s shirtless, his chest also dripping in blood. Black ink swirls up his arms and across his pecs, his abs bare of tattoos. His face is painted like a skull, his fathomless eyes lost in a pool of black and his mouth painted in a ghostly smile.

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