Page 90 of Wicked Deceit
Piper giggles magically from the staircase, echoing through the drafty room. “Oh, believe me, you’ll get your reward at the end of this!”
“Piper,” I start with hesitation, trying to sound eager. “What will be my end reward? Will I get more time with her?” Closing my eyes, I breathe through the desperation eating away at me. Time is not on my side right now, but I need so much of it to get her to safety.
“After the ceremony, she’s all yours! You’ll be the final blow, of course, only if you pass all these tests! Now chop, chop, brother!” I huff at the stupid fucking brother comment again and shake my head.
“Give me an extra minute to appreciate what’s in front of me,” I demand.
“Mmm, understandable! Carry on.” Her voice sounds far away, like she’s already mentally checked out from the conversation. Hopefully her fucking phone keeps her occupied like before.
The sound of the door closing deflates my chest, and I know I have to hurry. I only hope Kaycee can forgive me for everything I’m about to do. I don’t have her consent, and she can’t tell me no, and it makes my stomach ache to think I’m removing clothes from her body unwillingly. It may not be her damn pants or shirt, but it’s still her clothes. And Kaycee’s consent is every-fucking-thing to me.
Reaching down with shaky hands, I take her shoes off and carefully place them on the ground. Then her socks. My fingers brush against the skin of her feet, letting her warmth soak into me. Her chest rises and falls, her heart beating steadily against my fingers. She’s warm—alive—and right here for the taking. Indecision rages inside of me again, and war battles inside my brain. Kaycee is at my fingertips right now. But I can’t save her like this.
I want to fall to my knees. Break down. Scream into the mother fucking void and beg for her life. Something. Anything to get her out of here and to safety.
I remove her cast and sleeve as quickly as I can, planning out my next moves. I don’t know what we’re about to walk into. All I know is that I will have time alone with her near the end, which will be my chance to grab her and fucking go. Pain is inevitable for both of us, no matter what happens. If I know she’s getting hurt, it'll hurt me. All I can hope is that Veritas finds this location and gets here as fast as possible before we die. If Kaycee dies, I die. End of fucking story. No matter what I choose to do, it’s a lose-lose. My choices are limited, and I can only hope for the fucking best.
Making sure to step in front of the camera, I take the phone secured in my waistband and stare at the bright screen. Using Kaycee's thumbprint, I unlock her phone and go to her text messages. If I could call those idiots, I would, but I can't chance anyone seeing me or hearing me do this. I lean over Kace and bury my nose in her hair, inhaling her scent one last time. I use the remaining time I have to begin planning our escape.
My cuties:
Kaycee: They’ve taken Kaycee. This is Carter. They took my fucking phone and me to some house at the back of campus. It’s through the fucking woods.
I hold my breath seeing the messages delivered but not read—my heart rate spikes when footsteps sound below the attic door, getting closer and closer to check on me.
Kaycee: We don’t have much time. They’re going to hurt her. BAD.
Kaycee: I don’t know what to do. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO FUCKING DO.
I hang my head, inhaling her scent again to calm my nerves. I don't know what to do. I may be smart, but I feel so fucking useless and weak right now. My brain turns in a million directions trying to guide me to a decision.
Kaycee: Is Benoit ok? Fuck. Fuck. TWEEDLE-DEE TWEEDLE-DUM, ANSWER MY FUCKING TEXTS.
I want to slam her phone onto the metal gurney holding Kaycee’s body. I’m at a loss. I’m—stuck. They are the only way I can get her out of here if we could turn off the cameras.
Zepp: Are you there with her? Where? Benoit’s burned severely. There's an ambulance on the way along with the cops…. But he’s fighting through it.
Kaycee: Tell him...I’m fucking sorry. I tried, man. I wanted to get him out, but fucking Piper...she lit it. Not me.
Zepp: He’ll understand. Now tell me everything.
And so I do with burning guilt searing me from the inside out. I tell him everything that’s happened, and we formulate a plan. It’s not solid, and we could get hurt. But we have a fucking plan and the drive to complete it. And now I have to act my ass off to get through this for her protection. Until the cops or Veritas can make it to this location. It's only a matter of time before they bust down the doors and find this place. But until then, I have to keep going.
Deep.Fucking.Breaths.
I tug at the black robe’s sleeves with slick black leather gloves that conceal my hands. A dark black mask hides the scowl I’m still sporting. Even if they can’t see me, I know their eyes are watching my every move. No matter what, I’m playing my fucking part. After leaving my fucking heart in the attic, they led me back to the central control room and dressed me in this robe. My heart beats out of control, sitting here and waiting for their instructions on what to do next.
Kaycee sits on their main monitor screen with her eyes shut tight and her body lax. From here, I can tell she's fighting tears. Not that I fucking blame her. At the sight of her emotions, my fists curl in the squeaky gloves. I try not to show how fucking pissed I am over the entire situation. They forced Piper and me to shove her into a fucking fish tank she barely fit into. And now, I’m being subjected to watching her fucking fight for her life. I don’t know what they’re up to. I fucking wish I did.
“Get ready, Sugar, you’re about to be famous. Smile at your customers. They’ve invested so much into this. You’re on camera for millions to see. Actually, on second thought, don’t! Scream your tits off. The audience likes it.” My father leans toward a microphone with his mask in place, distorting his voice.
“You see that?” Shaw lifts his mask, pointing toward a computer in front of us. Numbers build higher and higher, showcasing the number of sickos tuning in to watch the show. And the main attraction? Kaycee’s pain. Everything I saw on the website makes sense now. Views. Bids. It's real-life people getting off on people's pain and death.
“It’s almost 200k viewers!” Crowe says, puffing up with pride. A large grin takes over his entire face when he turns to me. “Now,” he starts, putting his hands under his chin. “It’s time for you to announce her lot for all our viewers.” He raises a brow, nodding toward the microphone nearest me.
I eye it with suspicion, but I know what I have to do. They'll force me to say it or kill me on the spot, no matter what. I’ve seen the guns they’re packing in their robe pockets. If someone disobeys them, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later. No matter what, I've been backed into a corner and bent over without fucking lube. Throughout this entire situation, I will have to play a part that’s eating away at my insides and chipping away at my fucking heart. But Kaycee would one-hundred percent die if I didn’t. I play my part, and she has to play hers in whatever they make her do.
“Here,” my father says, slipping a piece of paper toward me with neat handwriting. A script of bullshit lays before my eyes, and my heart falls into my fucking ass. “Say these exact words, and we’ll do the rest.” He arches a pointed brow at me, promising me a world of hurt in one look if I fuck up even an inch.
