Page 75 of Entombed In Sin

The sharp blade of Thatcher’s knife comes around and rests dangerously against the front of my neck as he uses his forearm to yank me back into his chest.

“Look at you,” Thatcher practically purrs in my ear. “You’re so much more confident now than you were before we came into your life. I love the woman you’re becoming, Little Sister.”

Thatcher’s knife comes away from my throat and he shoves me away from his body. I stumble. Before I can catch myself, the sting of a blade slicing through the skin of my back causes me to cry out. I arch away from him instinctually, afraid of another strike. I can’t believe hecutme! The thought is horrifying. It doesn’t matter that I can tell it’s a shallow cut. The fact that he did it both terrifies and infuriates me. My hiss of rage drowns out Thatcher’s chuckle.

“Strike one, Little Sister. Two more strikes, and you’re out. Nowrun.”

I don’t hesitate or look back. My strides are long as I take off toward the middle hangar. Thatcher was right about one thing: clearly staying outside the hangars isn’t in my best interest. I don’t know what’s inside, but if there are more places to hide, then I’ll risk entering.

Quickly, I slide around the threshold of the giant opening where planes were meant to roll in and out of, and immediately hook a right. I keep to the shadows as my eyes dart around the darkness. My heart hammers wildly in my chest. I try to keep my breathing from being too loud, but in the dead silence, it’s practically like a beacon, letting the twins know where I am. Where are they now? What happens after three strikes and the hour isn’t up? My stomach knots, and I force myself to stifle a whimper of fear.

Is this what it’s like to be one of their victims?

The thought makes me uneasy. I’ve been a victim all my life—I won’t be for anyone else. After tonight, I’m going to do my best and figure out the last rulebeforeI break it.

I barely get twenty steps into the building before a hand comes around my throat and yanks me off to the side. My yelp is cut off as I’m thrown up against the hard shell of the hanger. Another hand slaps over my mouth. My eyes widen in alarm at the sight of Knox, who turns to look over his shoulder. A second later, Sagan slinks on by, out of the building and into the darkness. Knox waits a few seconds longer before letting me go.

Leaning up against the wall, I breathe heavily. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest, I’m afraid my ribs will crack. Knox slowly turns to look down at me, his mouth curling up into an amused smile.

“They’re in a shitty mood tonight. Sagan got me pretty fucking good,” he says in a conspiratory whisper.

I can’t see any marks on his body, but maybe he’d gotten a slice across his back like I did.

“Can we hide back in the car?” I suggest.

The pale blue of his eyes is hidden by the shadows around us, but a single glow from a light nearby causes them to twinkle. Like a single star glittering in a black sky. “That would work if I hadn't seen them lock up before I took off.”

“Shoot.” I bite my bottom lip. “What can we do?”

“Well, I know whatIwant to do,” Knox says.

He doesn’t give me time to ask what that might be. Knoxshowsme. Bending down, he claims my lips with his. My gasp of surprise is eaten up. That same surprise is consumed by a fiery blaze of desire that boils up under my skin. Knox steps forward, pressing his naked body into me. With a soft moan, I lean into Knox. There’s an excitable energy behind the kiss that shifts the terror I’ve been experiencing to something else. This is all a game to Knox, even if it'shisblood that spills. It’s like a fractionof his enjoyment is being transferred to me through our kiss. Slowly, the tension coursing through me eases.

His tongue slips into my mouth, and when mine tentatively reaches for his, Knox moans. A hard shiver that has nothing to do with the cold rushes through me. I press my body closer to his and my arms snake around his waist. Knox’s hard cock, pressed against my stomach, twitches as I let out a soft, heady moan. I wonder if we could just stay like this all night and?—

Something hard hits the side of the hangar, causing a loud bang to rattle the building. The sound echoes all around us. Dust falls from the ceiling, and old pendant light fixtures above us swing in response. Knox and I jump apart, panting heavily as we look around.

“Shit,” he murmurs breathlessly. “They’re trying to get a reaction from you. If you can, keep to the shadows and keepquiet, Shining Starr.”

I smile at the nickname and he notices. His cheeks dimple.

“I’ll lead them away from you.” He swoops down to kiss me once more. This one is brief, and I don’t get a chance to return it before he pulls away and takes a step back. “Don’t let them get three strikes. You’ll be screaming all night if they get their way.”

I grimace, nodding.

“See you in a bit,” Knox says, and takes off with long strides toward the entrance of the hangar. “You-hoo!Boys! You’re terrible at this game. I would’ve gotten my three strikes by now!”

I watch as he disappears outside. When his voice trails off, I move again. The hangar is relatively empty, at least in the middle of the building. The second floor loft is stacked with boxes and trash. I could probably hide up there, though I’d be screwed if I needed to escape. A few steps are missing to the stairs that head up to the second level. Running back down them if I’m caught might end with me breaking my neck.

Also, the butt plug would be incredibly noticeable then. Right now, as I keep low and to the shadows, I’m hyper aware of the item inside me. Of how it twists and massages my insides, and how it sinks in farther when I bend too low or move too quickly. The hard shudders coursing through my body are a dead giveaway that I’m beginning to both hateandlove this thing.

As I slip into the deeper shadows in the back of the building, a light on the other end catches my eye. The orange and yellow glow flickers behind a house made of cardboard. Beer bottles are littered around the small, handcrafted fortress, and soft music drifts toward me.

People!

It’s clearly a homeless encampment judging by the shopping cart full of stuff right beside it and the clothes hanging from a makeshift clothesline, but there is strength in numbers. Maybe I could snag a shirt and pants?

Hope gives me a burst of energy, and I sprint toward the signs of life. I’m still a good distance away. I could get caught between here and there if I’m not careful. The sound of my feet slapping against the cement floor is loud. There’s nothing that can be done about that. There’s no way I’m slowing down now. Not with help within reach.

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