Page 43 of Entombed In Sin

With that, the man peels away, barreling down the road without another word. My feet stop moving. As I stand there and watch the SUV drive out of sight, I allow a moment to bask in my relief. The contents of my stomach start to settle. I’m safe. Well, safe-ish. There are still other people I have to worry about, but that was one encounter I can say I survived. I lift a foot, ready to start walking but pause.

Wait a minute.

Did he… did he just say myname? I stare after the SUV that’s no longer in sight. No, I must’ve misheard him—my fear getting to my head. Shaking my head, I start walking again.

I make it two more blocks before I swing around and start heading back the way I came. Or at least I think I am. I have no idea where I am. It’s so late now that I’m sure Knox has left the party and has been having his own fun. Maybe that’s where the twins are? They must’ve gone to help him first since I couldn’t attract anyone.

My stomach drops at the thought of that. Would they leave me out here to fend for myself knowing I have no weapons? I don’t know the answer to that.

“Hey pretty lady, you workin’?” someone calls from across the street.

My head jerks toward the speaker. He sits on the stoop of one of the few houses not completely boarded up, with one of his buddies. His friend takes a hit of his cigarette before pinching it between his fingers and pulling it away from his lips.

“No,” I answer in a voice too small to be heard. I don’t repeat myself. Instead, I hurry on my way.

“Where are you going? Don’t you want to make some cash?”

I wince. Without having to look over my shoulder, I know the man has gotten up and is heading my way. His voice is closer than I expected.

“I got fifty bucks, surely a blow-y from you is worth that.” This time he sounds even closer.

Dread fills my veins and my heart works overtime to not give out in panic. I’mnotgoing to let him catch me. He’s already too close for comfort. Forget waiting for the twins to act. I take off, running without looking back to see how much distance is between me and the man closing in on me.

“Ha, ha! Ilovethis game!” he whoops from way too close behind me.

My little heels click loudly on the cement sidewalk, the sound like bullets ricocheting off the walls of the houses. I manage to make it a full block before hands grab me and toss me to the ground. I fall forward, catching myself with my numb hands before I face plant. Hands wrap around my ankles and yank me back as laughter fills the air. I scream in terror and pain as my hands scrape against the pavement as I fight and claw to drag myself away.

“Do I get a discount for catching you?” The man above me sneers.

“I think you should get somethin’ fo free,” another voice says, this one a little more breathless than the first. Tears well up as I realize I don’t have just one assailant, but two to contend with. Hands grab me by my hips and flip me over.

I scream and claw at the guy above me. He laughs as he attempts to catch my hands while his friend comes around to stand by my head.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, girl,” the guy watching on snaps.

The man trying to pin me down shakes his head. When he grins, I can see he’s missing at least two bottom teeth and a top canine. “Naw, I don’t mind if she wants to be a sore loser. It’s more fun that way. Now help me get her up. Butch’s place is just over there. The back door is unlocked. We can have some fun in there.”

I scream as icy terror races through my veins, more frigid than the Chicago winter air. As I try to knee him with my other leg, headlights flash and the sound of tires screeching cause all of us to freeze. A familiar black truck peels up the street and slams on its brakes as it pulls up beside us. The passenger door opens before it comes to a complete stop.

A heavy sob of relief pours from my lips. Sagan rounds the car as Thatcher climbs out. Both have donned their black leather gloves now, their black ball caps cover their faces completely, and in their hands they hold their knives.

“Fuck,” the guy on top of me says with annoyance rather than fear.

“Hey, man, mind your own business,” the man standing by my head snarls. “We’re just having a bit of fun. We’re all good here!”

The twins attack as one. Thatcher lunges for the guy on top of me. My attacker doesn’t stand a chance. Thatcher’s blade sinks into his back. As the Hunt twin sinks his weight into the movement, my attacker collapses on top of me. I huff as the breath is driven from my lungs. Thatcher doesn’t stop moving. As Sagan chases after the second man, who was wise enough to attempt to take off, Thatcher yanks his blade free and slides it across the front of my attacker’s throat. The stranger’s eyes grow impossibly round as he realizes death has descended upon him.

In that same moment, a twisted glee slithers from the depths of my chest and sends champagne bubbles through my veins, chasing away my terror. He deserves this. This guy was going to hurt me and allow his friend to watch. How many women had he done this too before? How many women did Thatcher just save by stepping in and ending his pathetic life?

He wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t been tempting him, a small, guilt-ridden voice in my head reminds me.

ButdidI tempt him? I didn’t bat my lashes in his direction or curl my finger in a ‘come hither’ motion to bring this fate upon me. All I did was walk up the street with my head down. I’m innocent. He’s not.

The small voice, along with the guilt, vanishes as blood pours from the neck wound in a torrent I’m not prepared for. The warm, thick liquid covers my face and neck. A strange, wretchedcackle shakes my body as blood seeps into my mouth. I tilt my head back as the sound grows louder. This asshole got what he deserved. This is beautiful, poetic justice that I got to witness firsthand.

As I laugh, the man who ran from Sagan screams. It’s cut off abruptly. My laughter increases in volume at the sound of a life being snuffed out. He deserved this, too. The head of the man on top of me flops forward, coming to rest on my collarbone. It’s not there long. Thatcher yanks the body off me and, with ease, tosses him away. The warmth of the blood on my face calls to me. I reach up to smear my fingers through it.

“In the car,now,” Thatcher barks.

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