Page 45 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

With his head bent as he fucks my pussy with his fingers, he can’t see my snarl of revulsion. I lift my head as footsteps sound nearby and a familiar face appears in the opening on one side of the cars. Not the one I wanted to see, though.

Purple hair flutters around a face full of shock. Andrew moves his head up and on instinct, I grasp the back of it and shove his face into my breasts, moaning. “Oh, Mr. Bennington…” Thankfully my voice doesn’t betray my boiling hatred.

Rylie stares hard at me and I shake my head. A flush moves over her cheeks and she realizes that this is it—she’s walked in at the worst possible moment. She inhales sharply and mouths something to me before turning and hurrying away.

My heart hammers inside my chest. Shit. That was fucking close. Too close. I reach into the back pocket of my pants with my free hand and press the button on the side as I grind down against Andrew’s fingers. The emergency button forces another buzz, letting me know that my message has gone through. It’s time. I’ve got Andrew Bennington right where I want him.

My pussy is quickly drying up now that I’m not thinking of Luc, but Andrew barely notices as he withdraws his hand from my pants. He grips the back of my head and shoves me down roughly. Breathing heavily with anticipation, he rips at his slacks and unbuckles his belt as my knees dig into the pavement.

“Fuck, yes,” he swears. “Just a little taste.” His belt finally comes free and his fingers struggle with the zipper. I smirk up at him, not that he notices. “Open your fucking mouth, bitch,” he sneers. “Show me how thankful you are that I’m so willing to take you in. For the next few weeks, you’re gonna be my personal cumdump. Night and day. You’re gonna suck me off and swallow my fucking—”

A shadow falls across the ground. Andrew doesn’t finish his sentence. My smirk turns into a full-blown smile and I arch my head back as Andrew’s face dips down, his jaw going slack. The needle piercing the side of his neck is there for a split second as a glove covered hand presses down and the drugs are shot right into his bloodstream.

“Don’t you dare let him fucking fall on me,” I snap as his body sags forward.

At my words, two pairs of arms catch Andrew’s now unconscious frame and they drag him back as a third man appears and holds out his hand for me. I take it and climb to my feet, dusting off the dirt and grime on my pants. It doesn’t make me feel any less filthy.

I wave my hand at the two men holding Andrew up and they drag him back, lifting his body as if it weighs nothing. “The cameras?” I ask, turning to the man at my side.

His face is covered by a ski mask, but I know what’s beneath it. I’ve done so much research on this team that I probably know more about their lives and appearances than even they do. “They’ve been taken care of, ma’am.”

“Good.” I adjust my clothing as I follow the men to the opening of the space between the two vehicles and meet them at a long dark van with blacked out windows. They work quickly, trussing up Mr. Bennington like a prize pig before tossing him into the back and hopping into their respective seats.

“The location is ready as well,” the man says behind me. “Is there anything else?”

My gaze trails back to the stadium. No doubt Rylie is already meeting up with Avalon and telling her exactly what she witnessed. “You were supposed to keep anyone else away,” I snap. “You fucked up.”

“We were waiting for your signal,” the man says. “If you’re worried about the girl—we can track her down and—”

“No.” I stop and spin towards the man. “Forget her. Don’t even fucking think about her again.”

“You’re right, though,” he says, his lips frowning beyond the opening in his mask. “If she saw something, she might—”

“She won’t,” I interrupt. “Forget it.” I turn back to the car. “Start the car. Let’s get out of here.”

The man remains standing outside of the van for several more seconds, but after another beat of silence, he relents and steps up to the side of the van, getting inside, and sliding the door shut. The engine turns over and the vehicle starts forward.

My back hits the wall opposite the van’s sliding door, and I slowly slide down until I’m sitting on my ass. My skin crawls as if something alive is hiding just beneath it. Those ugly fire ants.

“I want a shower when we get there,” I say absently. “Have clothes brought to me.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” one of the men says from the front.

I think over Andrew’s words. “A skirt,” I say. “Make sure I have a skirt.”

Three sets of eyes land on me. The man in the back and the man in the front passenger seat turn to look at me while the driver’s eyes pierce me through the rearview mirror. Though I know they want to—human curiosity is something that can’t be denied—they don’t ask any questions. They won’t. That’s why I hired them.

They know when to follow orders. They know when to keep their mouths shut, and right now, I’m glad. Thunder rumbles overhead and rain starts to splash against the windshield. I lift my head and turn it to the side, away from Andrew’s body.

As if I didn’t already know it, the creepy-crawly sensation of disgust swarming under my skin reminds me. This is what I was really made for. This is what I have to do. Ifshe’sgoing to live in this world and be free, then I have to.

20

LUC

It startsto rain halfway through the game. Not enough to stop the game, but enough to make it that much more difficult to focus. By the final ten minutes, water is falling over the front of my helmet in rivulets, drenching the back of my neck and sliding down the inside of my jersey. My breathing comes in pants. In and out. In and out. I want to look away from the lineup in front of me and into the stands.

Is she still here? Is she gone? Is she safe?

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