Page 37 of Sins of Autumn

Cherish held her arm up like a barricade. “She’s not going anywhere with you, Carson so why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

My grin grew beneath the mask. Atlas moved into the hall; Amber’s head cradled under his arm. Apparently, he wasn’t done playing with it. “We’ve already come all this way. Why would he leave to do that now?”

Autumn’s chest heaved, and for a second, I thought she might cry. Instead, she lifted her chin and looked right at me. “Go to hell, Wilder. You twisted fuck.”

God, I loved her.

Romeo circled around Atlas and reached them quicker than they could blink.

Autumn dragged her sister back and reached for Daniella at the same time he did. He took hold of her hair and wrenched her away from them. Her panicked rage echoed through the foyer as she fought against him.

Cherish gave up a little too quickly for someone meant to be that girl’s best friend, now damn near shoving my girl through the basement door as she tried to get to Daniella. They vanished, the door slamming shut behind them.

Thorne tossed Liza like the trash she was. Her head smacked against the hardwood, and she whimpered.

She scrambled to her feet, and he grabbed her again, this time not letting go, lifting her back off the floor.

“Leave her alone!” Daniella let out a guttural scream. Romeo shut her up by covering her mouth with his gloved hand. Jason moved forward like he was finally going to do something about us, a fire poker in his hand.

He looked fucking stupid with marker all over his damn face and only wearing one sock.

Lucian slowly looked at him and tilted his head, a sure sign he was amused. “I think,youthink you’ve got guts,” he said taunted.

Jason hesitated, his grip faltering as he looked between Lucian and the rest of us.

Smart boy.

Or maybe just scared shitless.

Either way, I ignored him. He wasn’t my concern. KJ, ever the picture of twisted delight, skipped into the house behind us, her dark hair swinging as she kicked the door shut.

She had been playing her part perfectly, staying one step ahead of them the entire time. She lived for this as much as we did, the chaos, the fear, the game. It wasn’t just fun for her; it was art.

The sound of people running, followed by a door slamming shut carried from upstairs, but we didn’t need to concern ourselves with that. Hunter was up there, waiting for just this moment, his patience finally paying off.

Jason took a few steps back, his eyes darting toward the front door as if escape was still an option. It obviously wasn’t. Ryan stood his ground, chest rising and falling as he tried to keep his cool. I could see the tension in his jaw and the way his hands clenched into fists.

He wasn’t stupid.

He knew exactly who I was under the mask, and he knew why I was looking at him. Fortunately for him, knowing our identities didn’t matter since he wouldn’t be leaving this house alive.

It was a shame that we couldn’t stream this. The girls that got fucked once or twice and then killed fetched good money, but the ones we terrorized like this were prime entertainment. The rental aspect went even higher, something about hunting unsuspecting families got people excited. I wasn’t putting my girl on our broadcast for obvious reasons. She wasn’t for anyone’s entertainment but mine.

KJ tilted her head slightly, her stance casual. Her mask, with its exaggerated doll-like features, made her unsettling presence even more striking as she stood watching the scene unfold. Lucian didn’t bother with the gun strapped under his suit jacket. He was a man of theatrical brutality.

He moved swiftly, wrenching the poker from Jason’s trembling hands. Jason froze for half a second, and that hesitation was all Lucian needed. With deliberate force, he slammed the pointed end of the poker into Jason’s stomach.

The air left him in a sharp wheeze as he doubled over, blood blossoming under his t-shirt. Before he could recover, Lucian brought the poker down again. The sound of the impact was beautiful, and after a few more hits Jason crumpled to the floor, unconscious, blood running from his temple. Head wounds always got messy.

Ryan backed himself into a corner, chest heaving as he tried to calculate his next move. What a shitty bunch of friends this was. Just more reasons why Mint didn’t need them. He hadn’t even attempted to help the guy.

I stood before him, my mask hiding the satisfaction curling my lips. I stepped closer, not needing words to let him know who had the upper hand. He chose then to lunge, enraged idiocy driving him. I grabbed him mid-motion, slamming him hard into the wall. The impact made the framed picture behind him shatter and crash to the ground, shards scattering like splinters of my rage.

He swung at me and missed. Swung again and I deflected, letting him get a hit in so he had a flicker of hope, then I grabbed him by his throat, pinning him in place. His face contorted with pain and panic as I leaned in, my voice low. “The biggest mistake of your life was touching what’s mine.”

I brought my knee up into his ribs, the sound of the hit satisfying as he let out a choked gasp. He doubled over, his breath a ragged wheeze. I grabbed him again and slammed him back into the wall, making sure the back of his head felt every ounce of force as the plaster buckled and crumbled. When I finally let go, he fell to the floor, gasping and clutching at his ribs.

He wheezed his voice barely a rasp. “Let the girls go.”

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