Page 18 of Can't Stop
I nod again, because he will. He always does. This man has proven time and time again that I can count on him, even when the problem is of my own making. He’ll fix this.
“Do you think I’ll ever see Van Gogh again?” I whisper as I relax into him.
His hand traces lazy circles on my back. “I promise you will. If I have to tunnel through the hellfire beneath this town to get to him, I’ll do it.”
“So no more talk of leaving him?”
Dalton shakes his head. “No, we aren’t leaving this town until we’ve grabbed our son and wiped every one of these assholes from the earth.”
A speaker crackles overhead, followed by an unfamiliar male voice. “You wish to do my family harm? That’s not very nice.”
“Neither is kidnapping people for your creepy town, jackass!” Dalton shouts at the ceiling.
The speaker crackles again, followed by laughter. “You think we’re kidnapping you for our town? How cute. We only have plans for the woman, however. Your purpose . . . Well, it’s almost All Hallows Eve, and I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
The speaker cuts off, silencing the man’s laughter.
Dalton sighs and pulls me closer. “They’re listening in. We can’t even plot anything.”
If they’re listening . . . they might also be watching.
I press my lips against Dalton’s ear and whisper, “Play along.” The words are little more than a prayer lingering on an outbreath, so I hope he heard me.
A hum of excitement runs through me as I climb off Dalton’s lap and go for the first metal door built into the wall. It comes open, and I slide the table from within. I pull back the sheet to reveal a fully nude man in his forties or early fifties. Bruising on his torso and abdomen suggests a pretty painful death, but I don’t dwell on that. As much as I would love to examine this corpse and pull it apart, there is more important work to be done.
With a grunt, I grab the man’s icy feet and tug him backward. He slides a few inches, but little more. I grunt and pull again, but I get less movement this time. “Little help?” I shout toward Dalton.
He scrambles to his feet and helps me pull the man to the floor. The corpse lands on the hard tiles with a sickening splat, and Dalton recoils. I hurry to the next door.
“Please don’t disrespect our dead this way,” the man says through the speaker. “This won’t get you anywhere. Well, nowhere good.”
Ignoring his crackling words, I snatch open the second metal door and pull out the table. Below this blanket, I find a young woman. She doesn’t look much older than me. A Y-shaped incision mars her torso, cutting right between her small breasts.
Is this my fate?
“Bones, what are we doing?” Dalton asks. He stands at the woman’s feet as I stare down at her, frozen. It’s the first time I’ve ever considered my own mortality. Like . . . really considered it. And it’s fucking me up.
I can’t answer him, so I just step to the foot of the table and pull. With his help, we get her onto the floor and move her beside the man.
“You can continue these shenanigans if you wish, but bear in mind that you’ll be cleaning up the mess you make.” The speaker cuts off again, but now I know they can see us. Now I know that my plan will work.
The next bay is empty, but the bottom three tables all hold a surprise: three more bodies. These also bear an autopsy marking, like the woman, but they are considerably less fresh than the first two. The skin has shifted from a yellowish color to something more akin to gray. The flesh slips a bit as we pull them down to join their dead friends on the frigid floor.
“For a town that prides itself on preservation, they sure did a shit job with these three,” I say, loud enough for our listeners to hear. Working in silence, we situate the bodies into a line.
Perfect.
With a smirk toward the ceiling—I don’t know where the cameras are, so I’m just guessing here—I turn to Dalton and raise my arms. “Now strip me. Let’s have that orgy.”
I expect the indignation from above to be instant, but Dalton is able to get the shirt past my bare breasts before the screeching begins.
“Her nakedness is an abomination! Her body is meant for my son, and no one else should see her! This is unclean! Filthy!” The woman’s voice blasts through the speakers, and I fear the devices will shatter. But at least I’m getting a clearer picture now.
“So this is a family affair?” I say as my shirt drops to the floor. “It’s going to be a bit uncomfortable to watch this with your kids, lady. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.”
With a laugh, I go to my knees and begin unfastening Dalton’s pants. He’s never been a fan of having an audience, so I’m not surprised that he looks terrified. His dick, however, is more than ready. It springs from his boxers the moment I’ve lowered them.
As I take his warm, firm cock into my mouth, I reach behind me and grip the first dead man’s dick. It feels like one of those slime tubes you get for three thousand tickets at an arcade. I enjoy the way it squishes in my clenching fist, a sharp contrast to Dalton’s stiff cock ramming past my lips.
