Page 83 of Wicked Deceit
“I can’t,” I mumble through a heavy tongue. A weakness takes over my limbs when the rope falls away, and I’m carefully lifted into his arms.
“You can and you fucking will, Sweetheart. I’ll be damned if you die because I couldn’t fucking save you. You die. I die. You got that?” A growl rumbles through his chest when he pulls me close, careful to keep the knife from bumping into anything.
A few weeks earlier
Mydickfuckinghurts,and it’s goddamn agony—worse than fucking Hell. I grunt, cupping myself through my jeans, begging the cocksucker to go down. But it doesn’t fucking listen, growing angrier and more desperate for the pussy we left behind. Not today, asshole. We had to go and prove West wrong and get a damn dick piercing or three. Now we have to live with the consequences of our stupid as fuck actions.
After watching Kaycee get railed by Zepp in the maze not five fucking seconds ago, I think I’m fucking dying. Sure, I got to stick a big fat fake cock up her pussy and watch her come like fucking God himself was back on earth, but it wasn’t me inside her. It was rubber and bullshit.
I almost said fuck it and fucked her anyway, despite it all. But I stopped myself from doing it, thinking about how my piercings needed to heal properly or my junk might fall off. And I need my fucking junk to continue to fuck her sweet pussy in the future.
Sweat drips down my back as I make it back to my apartment in record time. My fucking cock aches to be inside of her, but each of my piercings protests the movement. Only a few more weeks now until the Christmas Charity event, and then I'll be fucking golden.
Curiosity burns through me as I walk up the stairs to my apartment. Excitement thrums through my veins, eager to check the results from the disc we set up on my father’s computer. It’s been a few hours since we ran off to the maze and played hide and seek, so it should be ready by my calculations. And boy, do I fucking hope it is. I can’t wait to get my grubby hands on whatever my father is hiding in the depths of his computer. It has to be fucking good with all the bells and whistles installed on his hard drive meant to keep me out. I wasn’t lying when I said it had to run through tough security to get through. But I want to see the results in private, all for myself, before I run back and tell Kaycee everything. I know she’ll have questions later, but she is satisfied and exhausted from our day together for now. First, we went to my dad’s and broke in, getting caught by Piper’s psycho ass and her mother. Then my anger drove me to the damn shady sex shop, where I spent at least two hundred bucks on toys to pleasure my girl, and then we played hide and seek.
Once I’m in my apartment and sitting in front of my computer, I feel the gravity of everything pushing down on us. Every muscle in my body stiffens when I run my eyes across the screen of my computer, gathering information from my father, and my teeth clench. I run a trembling hand over my face, trying to outrun the nerves flaying me open, but I can’t. It sits on my chest like a fucking elephant, suffocating me.
What appears on the screen confirms everything I need to know. We are so beyond royally fucked. So fucked. That's all there is to it. Goddamnit!
I swallow the bile shooting up my throat, take my phone out, ignore the group texts, and hopefully dial this number for the last fucking time. One more time, and this will all be fucking over. One more fucking time–is what I tell myself every time I have to dial this dickwad’s number. Then I’ll be free. Then we’ll all be fucking safe.
It rings two times before he decides to pick up and exhales into the phone in greeting.
"Kid, you and these late-night calls," he chastises with a tired huff.
"I did what you fucking couldn't," I growl into the phone. "A little appreciation would be nice. And this is the only goddamn time I can get away to call."
If Kaycee found out, God knows she'd be so hurt I didn't tell her what I was in on, but I can’t. I swore allegiance and signed my life away when I brought all this to their attention. She has to stay in the dark to keep herself safe. No one can know what I’ve been in on for months now.
"So tell me, kid. What have you got for me today?" He says in a low voice, no longer irritated.
"I should be asking you the same fucking thing. What have you got for me? You always leave me in the fucking dark on everything. I do your damn dirty work," I shout, jumping to my feet and stalking around the room. I pull the longer strands of my hair with my fist, reveling in the pain it provides.
"You know the rules, kid. You signed up for this when you came to us. You relay the information, and we store it. You watch, and we listen. You act, and we act when we can." He goes on and on, reciting the same bullshit he spouts every time I call him.
I roll my eyes towards the ceiling and hold the phone away from my ear. I’m ten seconds away from throwing it against the wall, collecting Kaycee, and fucking off to the Caribbean for the remainder of Thanksgiving break. Hell, even into Christmas break. We won’t ever come back.
"I found a website," I say, again swallowing my vomit.
"A website?" He asks again, clicking a pen in the background.
"You fucking heard me. A website…" I close my eyes because I have no fucking idea what it is. Nothing about it screams psychos or killers or anything.
I stare at the blank-looking website displaying the CrossBonesBids.death.com name and logo. The fucking skull taking up the majority of the page stares back at me and mocks me with its knowledge of what these fuckheads are doing.
"What is it?" He interjects, stopping everything.
"What I don't fucking understand is how you couldn't have known? How have you not found this before and found out what they're doing on the fucking Internet?" I heave a breath, anger building in the pit of my stomach.
My fist clenches because I can tell by the sound of his smug as fuck voice he knows precisely what I'm talking about, and they're keeping it from me. They keep everything from me and expect me to blindly follow their lead into Hell. I’m beginning to think Veritas isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. They may be a secret government agency, but they sure as fuck take their goddamn time with everything, no matter who it hurts.
"Because it's nothing but a blank page asking for a password that we can't break through on our side,” he mutters with frustration in his tone. But he can’t imagine the fucking frustration I feel because it’s not his ass on the line. It’s fucking mine, my brothers’, and most importantly, my damn girl’s life on the line.
I grind my teeth at his admission, and I want to reach through the phone and fucking strangle him with my bare hands. But that would be frowned upon. They know more about this cult than they let on, and I'm about to lose my shit on every fucking thing.
"What the fuck! You knew they had a website? And you didn't fucking ask me to break through? What happens when I get behind the magic fucking password, huh? What are they hiding? And what the fuck is going to happen to my girlfriend?" A low growl builds in my throat at the possibility of losing my girlfriend, and even those damn idiots I call my brothers, to these assholes.
"We'll extract you all before it gets to that point, Carter. We will not let them hurt anyone else, you hear me, kid?" I nod even though he can't see it, but doubt creeps in. "But the location," he mutters. "We need a location, Cunningham, or we can't do shit. We can swoop in now and arrest potential suspects, but what we've had you do isn't exactly legal. They'd be out on the streets doing the same shit but learn how to hide it better. And they're already hiding everything too well for my liking. Hang in there, kid. Hide your girlfriend and buddies, and we'll be there soon."
