There’s a sense of freedom running in the wild. It creates a oneness of humanity and nature, a sense of unity. My hands brace against the trees surrounding me so I can propel my legs to run faster and longer.
Growls can be heard off in the distance behind me, forcing me to sprint. I dash through the sanctuary of the trees, stopping at a large elm with lush leaves.
I turn at the sound of rustling leaves behind me. Mikhail and that creepy Ted guy are at my heels. Growls that sound more like wild animals than men escape from the depths of their mouths. Their bodies are poised for a fight. Mikhail isn’t wearing a shirt, just dark pants, his feet bare. The sight of him has my body in overdrive as if kerosene has been poured on it before the flame sets it ablaze. A foreign sense of desire and longing lingers beneath the surface.
Mikhail and Ted face off against each other, a rumble in the jungle, two animals poised to attack to see who will be the victor of the spoils of war. Me.
Feminism leaves my body in one fell swoop as I watch in fascination. I should harbor disdain for what these two men are doing, treating me as an object, fighting for rights to me instead of allowing me a choice. But I made a choice by coming here and agreeing to participate in the debauchery.
Ted takes a step forward, and Mikhail doesn’t move. He’s not wearing the white plastic mask anymore. He’s traded it for a ski mask, so I can see the slight curl of his lip, a challenge to Ted. Almost like he’s saying, “make my day.”
Ted takes another step toward him. His right arm moves to connect with Mikhail’s face, but it’s stopped mid-air by a large hand wrapped around it.
“Looks like one broken wrist wasn’t enough for you,” Mikhail snarls. “Let’s make it two, shall we?”
A loud snap, this one much more violent than the snap inside the building.A thud as Ted’s body crashes to the ground. I watch in fascination and horror as Mikhail’s massive hands lift a large branch and bring it down over Ted’s head with such force that I’m sure I hear Ted’s skull fracture.
The branch falls from Mikhail’s hand, the bark now covered in crimson as he bends, pulling Ted by his blood-splattered T-shirt collar. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, what your family name is, or how much influence you have. I told your ass to stay the fuck away from her, and you didn’t listen.”
Mikhail lifts his large fist in the air, and it collides with Ted’s face over and over and over until his body goes limp and the eyes burning with fire not too long ago go dark.
Mikhail is a killer. A real-life killer. I should be horrified. I should be disgusted. But I’m wet and excited. My therapist is wrong. This desire isn’t normal. I’m fucked in the head. I can’t do this. I can’t be a party to this. I just watched him beat a man in cold blood.
My gaze moves from the lifeless body on the ground to the piercing ice blue of Mikhail's eyes. “I think you killed him.”
The haunting sapphire of his eyes pierces the depths of my soul. “I know.”
His voice is calm, cold, and calculated. There is no rage in his words, only fact. He has no remorse, no inclination that what he did was wrong.
He cocks his head. “If it makes it better, he wasn’t a good man.”
He steps toward me, my back against the tree. The tremors of my hands and the non-stop shaking of my legs tell me I have nowhere to run. But I refuse to give in without a fight. My original instincts were correct about the masked man, yet my body tingles with need and desire, throwing my whole existence on its axis.
I turn to face the large tree before me. My hands are desperate as they crawl at the rough bark, and I pull my body to climb the large trunk.
A firm grip on my ankle pulls me down.“Not so fast, Little Mouse.”
ChapterFive
Mikhail
Her ankle is an anchor, keeping her tethered to me. I’ve got some cleaning up to do after this. I was going to kill Teddy boy, but not this way. The Millers will clean it up. They can’t afford to have anyone questioning anything on their property, especially when I’ve got so much dirt on them. It will cost me some money, but it was worth it. The fucker was told to stay away. He should’ve listened.
The little mouse nibbles on her bottom lip, tugging it between her bright white teeth.
I want to be the one biting into her flesh. “Looks like the cat caught your tongue, Little Mouse.”
Her eyes flash between me and the darkness around us. Growls and screams permeate the air, but all I can focus on is my pretty prey. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her plump lips open to say something and then quickly close as if unsure her words will do more harm than good.
“Speak.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
My lip twitches and turns up in a grin. This is the third time she’s put a smile on my face. “I wasn’t planning on it. Not really into that snuff shit.”
She sighs in relief, the tension in her shoulders evaporating as her guard slips.
“You took my word easily enough. How do you know I’m not lying?”