Page 16 of What Lies Within

Fucker.

I gag through another breath, the dusty little fibers of the fabric wrapping around the dangly bit at the back of my throat.Fuck me.I’ve always been a gagger. It was the favorite part of head for my high-school boyfriend—my weak-ass throat closing around him.

What I’d do to have a dick in place of this goddamn thing…

"Twenty years old, and you still don't know how to breathe properly," Fox snaps.

Twenty-one, fucker, not that you’d remember that.

“You’re a pain in my fuckin’ ass.” The tape is ripped unceremoniously from my mouth.

“Then let me go.”

“Shut the fuck up and it might still happen.”

That's a positive, I suppose. He's not intent on killing me if that's Fox's choice of reply. "You know, if you wanted something from Dad, you could have done what any normal person does and picked up the phone."

He chuckles at my jest yet says nothing further.

What feels like a goddamn hour passes before I'm jerked to my feet by my bound hands and forced forward. I pick the second we move outside, thanks to the lazy crickets singing in the night. A cool breeze touches my heated flesh. If only I could jerk the neckline of my shirt lower and ease the heat that radiates beneath my clothes.

Wherever the fuck he had me, it could have been done with a bit of air conditioning.

“Where are we going?”

"Like I'd tell you that," he chuckles close to my right.

“Ooo,” I taunt. “Surprise party. I love those.”

“Jesus,” he murmurs before the clack of a car door opening.

I'm shoved toward the vehicle, a hand on my head to guide me inside. I smack my shin on the running board—it must be a truck or SUV—and take two tries to get my bearings. Hands from my left wrap around my arm and haul me across the seat on my hip, positioning me in the center before they secure me with the lap belt. It’s this little detail that finally silences me; Fox isn’t alone.

I never heard another person around the whole goddamn time I knelt on that rough surface.

“Where to?”

No way…I frown, eager for the other hands to say something else.

“I’ll guide you,” Fox snaps. “Just drive.”

The car starts, the gentle rumble of a V8 beneath me.So, it is a big vehicle then.We jerk forward, jostling over uneven ground. I brace my feet wider to save myself from face-planting the seats before me. Stones crunch beneath the tires, a series of quick-fire bumps, and then we're on smoother ground.A cattle grate.We must have been on a farm.

The ride continues in silence, only two turns taken before the second person talks again.

“Did ya prep the place?”

Goddamnit.The Irish accent is hard to deny this time. My blood chills. There's only one Irish motherfucker I know of around these parts who'd get caught up in this kind of shit.

Ronan.

Maybe Fox won’t kill me, but my death card is suddenly back on the table.

"If you mean, did I check it's secure? Of course, I fuckin' did," Fox snaps.

The other guy—possibly Ronan—sighs. “I meant, did’ya line the walls, block out the windows, fill the locks…” He sighs again, short and sharp. “Shite.”

“You want to take charge?” Fox bites.

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