Page 152 of Deviant

“Come on, babe. The sooner we get this over with, the better,” Lucas says, offering a weak smile to us both. “Good luck in there. I mean that.”

I give him a curt nod because I know he does. But since luck won’t save them from whatever hell awaits them, I don’t offer it back to him.

Rowen lets go of Lucy’s hand, straightens her shoulders, and picks her chin up, looking like she’s gearing up for a fight.

“You ready?”

She nods.

“Then let’s do this,” I belt out loud enough for the other couples to hear me.

“On the count of three,” David says, unable to contain his excitement. “One… two… three.”

And with that, I open the door and swing it open, bringing Rowen with me as I step inside.

The fuck did I just walk into?

“I can see why they call this the red room,” Rowen says, staring at the walls all covered in the same deep red as its door.

But it’s not the walls that have my attention. It’s the two large chairs in the middle of the room, facing each other.

“Are those—”

“Electric chairs? Looks like it to me,” I answer Rowen’s question before she even has the time to finish it.

“Well, that’s not creepy,” she muses as I chuckle.

“What’s so amusing?”

“You sound like Andy and Harper.” I smile.

“Yeah, that is something they would say, isn’t it?” she retorts, a relaxed expression back on her face.

But as we approach the chairs to investigate them further, the door to the room slams shut, a loud click telling us we’re locked inside.

“Looks like we’re only leaving this place when they want us to,” I inform, pointing to those damn cameras that always seem to follow us around.

“What do we do now?” she asks, her nervousness reappearing.

I’m about to walk toward her and kiss her, just so she doesn’t have to think about this shit, when our watches decide to vibrate and ding at the same time.

Sit.

“Seems like our hosts don’t like to see us on our feet. So considerate, aren’t they?” I goad while walking over to one of the chairs.

“They’re too welcoming, if you ask me,” Rowen retorts sarcastically, slowly walking over to the empty chair in front of me. “Do they look old to you? I mean, they can’t actually stillbe working, can they?” she asks, carefully lowering herself to sit down.

Place your arms on the armrest.

Back upright.

Legs spread wide.

We obey the command, and as soon as we do, two silver latches fall around our wrists and another two around our ankles, binding us completely to the chair.

“Don’t look that old to me,” I mutter, aggravated when I can’t pull free no matter how I try.

“Elias?” Rowen shrieks in fear, only to be interrupted by another text.

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