Page 64 of Losers, Part I

Page List


Font:  

Time to pay up.

I laughed slightly, nervously. “Okay, really creepy! That better not be my fucking Mac lipstick.” I checked under my desk, then crouched down and checked under my bed.

The only place left was the closet. I stared at the closed door, my heart thumping in my ears. It was a game, just roleplay. But I still hesitated as I reached for the louvered door, trying to see into the darkness between the slats.

Slowly, I lowered myself to the ground. I pressed my cheek against the carpet, peering through the small gap under the door. It was so dark. I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight, aiming it underneath.

Two pairs of boots stood on the other side.

I stood slowly, moving as if I had a grizzly bear standing directly in front of me. The door was pushed open, clattering slightly as it hit the wall. Manson and Lucas stood side by side, the tiny closet making them appear larger than life. Manson was wearing tight dark jeans and a black t-shirt, his arms folded as he watched me. Lucas’s tattooed chest was bare beneath his denim vest, his lean muscles tensing as he stepped forward.

Manson gripped his arm, fingers digging into his bicep. My eyes darted between them as Manson’s grin widened.

“You have three seconds before I let Lucas go,” he said. “How much ground can you cover in three seconds?”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed, locked on me. He was breathing fast, his stance eager.

“One.” Manson started the countdown.

How far could I go in three seconds? Not far enough.

“Two.”

Fight-or-flight kicked in despite my bravado with the magazine. My brain saidrun, so I ran, sprinting toward my door. Heart pounding, thoughts focused on only one goal — escape. But I still heard what Manson said next.

“Three. Get her.”

24

Jessica

I sprinted down the hall, their footsteps pounding right behind me. A hand brushed against my back as I ran down the stairs, but I was too quick. I grabbed the banister at the bottom and used it to swing myself toward the living room, but my feet slipped on the wooden floor and that mere second of hesitation gave Lucas the opportunity he needed.

He grabbed me from behind, one arm around my waist and the other seizing my throat and squeezing as I shrieked.

“Mm, little fighter, aren’t you?” His voice was a harsh whisper, dripping with eagerness. His lips brushed against my ear, his chest hard against my back. “I knew you would be.”

I slammed my elbow back, jabbing it into his side hard enough to loosen his hold. But my attempt at escape didn’t get me far. Manson was right there to grab my arm, and I twisted, pulling so hard that I slipped and sent us both sprawling to the floor.

Manson landed on top. He straddled me and wrapped his hand around my jaw, pinning my head down as he leaned over me andlaughed. The sound sent a shiver all the way up my spine as Lucas walked into my field of vision, standing behind Manson’s shoulder.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” Manson scolded. “Feisty littlething.”

“No getting away this time,” Lucas said. There was an energy to his voice that I hadn’t heard before — higher and faster than his usual tone, strained with hunger.

I scratched at Manson’s arms as his fingers dug into my face, leaving rivulets of blood blooming across his skin as he taunted me.

“You should be more careful about closing your curtains, Jess,” Manson said. “Waltzing around here with your ass hanging out, windows open…” Lucas crouched beside him and leaned over me, bringing his face close to mine. “It’s almost like you’re asking for it. Any old creep off the street could have come in here.”

“Poor little fucktoy,” Lucas murmured.

I bucked my hips, throwing Manson off balance for a moment and nearly slamming my arm into Lucas’s face. I twisted to my stomach and crawled, but one of them grabbed my ankles and dragged me back, screaming as I went.

“Where ya’ going, sweetheart?” Lucas had me now and his body pressed heavily against my back. “You look so goddamn angry. Do you know how fucking hard that gets me? I wonder how long you can keep looking at me like that while I tear open that tight little cunt.”

“I. Hate. You,” I growled, each word clipped and short, thrown at him like mere pebbles at a bear. Manson circled me as I lay pinned to the floor, then lifted his foot and pressed my skull down with his boot. Lucas was grinding against my ass, his weight squeezing the breath out of me.

“Fuck yeah, keep squirming,” he said, his voice tight. “Such a little tease, isn’t she, Manson?”


Tags: Harley Laroux Romance