Page 180 of Brutal Prince

I begin shaking my head, my breath coming too fast, too hot, scorching my throat with every exhalation.

He pulls my dick out of my pants, and then stares at it, face devoid of emotion.

Then he begins jerking me off.

“Fuck!” I push away, closing my eyes as I slap the laptop closed.

That’s why I had cum and blood all over my fucking dick that morning. That’s why I never doubted Jessica when she said I’d raped her. How the fuck could I, with that much evidence stacked against me?

* * *

Indi

Marcus gruntsas he hoists me up and cradles me to his chest. I buck, moaning into my gag as I struggle to get out of his arms. He grabs my hair and tugs so hard I see spots. I go rigid, and then relax into his embrace as he starts walking.

It’s impossible to tell where he’s taking me. It feels like late afternoon, but it could just as easily be a shady area we’re in. For some reason, I keep thinking of the church where I first met Briar, where he and Marcus were conspiring. It would be kinda poetic, him taking me there for whatever nefarious purpose he has laid out for me in his deranged head.

As I feverishly attempt to place myself, both in time and space, memories come to me. Fragments, like raindrops splashing on my face, each one jolting clarity through me.

He had a pair of sneakers in his hand when he came to my bedroom door. The same ones that were outside.

Was it him that night, watching me?

I bite the inside of my lip, willing away the feel of his hands on my thigh and shoulder. His footsteps crunch over something.

Twigs? Dry leaves?

The church then.

It’ll end where it all began.

What did he say to me in the hallway at the party last night? How peaceful someone looked. Her. She looked so peaceful.

Had he been talking about Jess?

“I didn’t hurt her,” Marcus says.

I flinch at the unexpected sound of his voice, and get goosebumps when my mind latches to his words.

Get out of my fucking head!

I make a sound through my gag, and Marcus laughs. “You don’t believe me? You’ll see. She’s just fine.”

Who the fuck is he talking about?

But then he’s setting me on my feet. Pushing on my shoulders until I sit on something hard and smooth.

A light breeze touches my cheek, bringing me the scent of burned wood. I squirm, blinking back tears when Marcus steps back.

He doesn’t even bother lashing me to anything. What would be the point? Where would I run, bound and blind?

There’s a soft sound a few feet away, and I freeze.

Someone else is here, but who? And why are they so quiet?

Briar.

It’s an irrational, panicked thought, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

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