Page 102 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Mason stops fucking around with her piercings to give me a frown over the top of her head. “Vicky who?” he prompts.

“Uh…Pimento or something?”

“Pellegrino,” I correct automatically. Silas and Mason both look at me with unreadable expressions on their faces, probably thinking exactly what I am right now.

What are the odds?

I point at Lorenzo’s body. “Get the machete.”

What we need to do is make sure she won’t tell anyone about what she’s seen. And there’s only one way I know how.

Nim’s eyes almost pop out of her head. She lets out a low wail, clawing and scratching at Mason’s camo gear in an effort to escape.Silas’s boots crunch over dead grass and twigs as he goes to fetch it, and when Nim locks eyes with him on his way back with the blood-wet machete, she screams.

Mason doesn’t bother to cover her mouth. No one can hear her out here. But he does grab a fistful of her hair, dragging her head back until her neck is taut as a violin string.

“Please,” she whimpers. “Don’t do this. I didn’t see anything, I promise.”

I use the machete to point. “So you didn’t see us taking turns to chop up that sick fuck over there?”

She gulps, but there’s a flare of incredulity in her luminous eyes. I know what she’s thinking. Oh,he’sa sick fuck?

If she only knew. But she never will, because Nim is going to high tail it out of Cinderhart so fast, she’ll break the fucking sound barrier.

I press the flat of the blade against her slim throat, and drag it up her skin like I’m giving her a straight-razor shave. The girl pushes back hurriedly to get away from the blade, and Mason lets out a rumbly growl, his smile turning predatory.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against her hair. “You keep grinding that perky ass of yours into me.”

God, but he’s a horny fuck. I’d bet he’s already got a hard-on. That would explain why little Nim can’t decide if she wants to get away from the blade or from Mason’s crotch. He can’t help it, Iguess. He just has to snap his fingers to get laid...and he does. A lot. But we’ve been so busy prepping for today that I doubt he’s had much time to get laid.

Silas chuckles, because he and Mason are thick as thieves. I knowthey forward each other porn videos on a regular basis because sometimes they’ll send them my way too. None of it’s my taste, though. The kind of shit I’m into would make them run for the fucking hills.

The blade is by her chin now, a streak of blood going all the way down her throat.

“Red’s a good color on you,” Mason says.

And of course I’m served an image of this curvy little girl draped in a clingy, scarlet Giorgio Armani gown. Must be because my two sisters are shopping for the Feast of Ashes dance. It’s all I’ve been hearing about the past month.

I agree with Mason though. Nim would look damn tasty in red.

I press the flat of the blade against her lips, for a moment fascinated with how plump they are. I feel high as fuck right now. I’m starting to understand why serial killers do what they do.

“Phone?” Silas asks, sliding his hand into the back pocket of her denim skirt. But he’s not fooling anyone. He doesn’t care if she has a cell, he just wants to grope the pretty girl.

Her golden, emerald-flecked eyes are flooded with terror, her lips quivering against the machete’s blade. She stopped begging. I suppose because she knows it’s pointless. We just killed a man in cold blood. Why would we let her go?

The blade touches her cheek, leaving another streak of blood there. Mason grabs one of her breasts and squeezes so hard she whimpers.

I tap my pocket where I stored Nim’s driver’s license. “We know where you live,” I murmur, pushing against her so she’ssandwiched between Mason and me. I feel Silas’s hand move around to the front, trailing down her belly—and mine—then slipping between her legs.

Maybe it’s her girly scent—citrus shampoo, a floral lotion—that’s getting in my head, or maybe it’s part of the high from finallyendingLorenzo, but this situation is getting me hard. If Silas notices, he doesn’t say anything. His attention is fixed solely on the shivering wreck trapped between our three bodies.

“I won’t say a word,” she whispers. “I promise.” Her voice is thick, tears shimmering like little diamonds in her smudged lashes.

“Better not break that promise,” Mason says. “Else we’ll have to come to visit you in Liberty and do unspeakable things to you.”

Silas chuckles and grabs her so hard between the legs that she gasps and pushes up onto her tiptoes to get away from him.

Nim’s fluttering eyes fix on me. She’s obviously in shock—there’s not nearly as much fear in her eyes as I’d thought. My hard-on is getting uncomfortable, and now that Silas is touching her, I’m aware of a new smell.

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