Rampant (3 page)

“I disconnected the battery, Lex.”

His words halted me, and I whirled, expecting to find him on my heels, but he hadn’t ventured further than a foot from the porch.

“There’s nowhere to run!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air and turning in a slow circle. I followed with my gaze, taking in the
nothingness
surrounding us. The black nothingness that came with nightfall. Above, a vast canvas of stars lit the sky, but without the moon to light the way, getting lost wasn’t just a possibility, it was an inevitability.

Maybe he’s lying…

I could try the car, but if he was telling the truth, I’d be trapped for sure. Tightening my grip on the keys, I pushed one out to use as a weapon and took a step away from him, toward the edge of the trees.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, baby! Where’re you gonna go? You wouldn’t last the night in this forest.”

He underestimated what I was capable of surviving, but he had a point. The nights were notoriously chilly, even during the summer months, and I didn’t know where I was. I also didn’t have any shoes—another nail in the coffin of things that would slow me down.

I could make a run for it, hope to find help. Hope he didn’t have a spare set of keys in his possession. Eventually, the gravel road had to lead to civilization. But knowing Zach, he
did
have a spare set, and he’d pick up my sorry ass in no time.

As if my desperate thoughts blinked on my forehead in neon glory, the curve of his mouth turned cruel. “You know I’ll find you.” A threat dangled in that statement. A promise. I could run, but if he caught me, I’d find out what he was truly capable of.

I took another step anyway, despite the unmistakable lump of fear clogging my throat. Despite the rocks digging into my bare feet. My gaze zigzagged in every direction, searching, hoping. So many trees, and I had no idea what waited beyond them. Hopelessness crawled down my spine, an inescapable chill that threatened to ice my blood.

He had nothing holding him back now. The facade our father created, society’s watchful eye—none of it mattered out here, in this desolate place no one would think to look for me, because according to the world, I was dead.

In the twitch of an eye, I turned and fled.

My feet skidded across rock and dirt, and I heard him pound the ground behind me.

“Are we really doing this, Lex?”

I cranked my head, horrified to discover him gaining so fast, and doubled my efforts, picking up speed as I careened down the slope of the road. Sharp rocks tore into my bare feet with every frantic step. But I was an easy target, in plain sight, no matter how much distance I managed to put between us. Getting lost in the woods was my only shot at escaping.

My gaze swerved to the blackness beyond the trees, and I gulped. Get lost, or turn around and face him? Face possible years under his control. Endless years that would surely break me. Another glance over my shoulder told me I had but seconds to decide.

Pure adrenaline spurred me to jump into the foliage. I sprinted over roots, swerved around boulders, and stumbled to the ground, still damp from the torrent of rain last week. I didn’t remember getting up, though mud caked my bare knees. The ground became especially treacherous. I lost my balance and hurtled down an embankment, a victim of gravity, rolling over rocks, gouged by sticks, and grunting with each strike. I smashed into the trunk of a tree, finally coming to a stop. Stars burst in my vision, and the night narrowed until blinding light battled the dizziness.

His voice seared the air, my name a furious epithet bleeding from his lips. He sounded too close, but in the darkness, disoriented as my head throbbed from striking the tree, I couldn’t tell if he was three inches or three yards away.

Clenching my teeth against the pain, I pushed to my hands and knees, key still tightly wedged between my knuckles, and peeked around the massive tree trunk. Without the luminescence of moonlight, visibility was a bitch out here, which turned out to be a blessing and a curse. If I couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see me. That also meant I couldn’t see my way out of there.

Who was I kidding? I
wasn’t
getting out of this. Even if he wasn’t waiting, hunting me like prey, I didn’t have the skills to make it out. Not on foot. Not without proper clothing, food and water, a compass at the least. I closed my eyes and brought a fist to my mouth to keep from totally losing it.

Don’t you dare give up. If you don’t get out of here, then Rafe’s dea—
A sob ached in my throat, but I forced myself to finish the thought.
Then Rafe’s death was for nothing.

He died protecting me. Oh God. I was going to get sick. My pulse quickened, and my chest squeezed as every last memory of him edged into my soul. Not just the way he’d made me feel, but the gentleness that lingered inside him. The spark of compassion I’d seen in his eyes years ago, before I’d ruined his life. What I’d felt for him back then was real, was still as real as the scent of pine teasing my nostrils.

I wanted to lay down and give up, let the wilderness claim me. How could I fight knowing he was gone?

“Game’s over!” Zach shouted. “Your ass is going to pay for this stunt.”

I sucked in a breath, counted to five, then jumped to my feet. I’d find a way to survive. I’d do it for Rafe. I took off running again, and the forest whirled around me in a kaleidoscope of doom—every way I looked seemed the same. A huge boulder blocked my path straight ahead, and I was pretty certain going right would take me too close to the road. The easier way, for sure, but also the one that would expose me the most. I made a sharp left and bumped into another tree.

A warm tree. An angry tree with arms that reached out and folded me in a crushing and possessive embrace. “Stupid, stupid girl.”

His hand gripped the back of my neck. I lashed out with the keys, screaming, and did little more than swipe the air until his fingers banded around my wrist painfully. My grip loosened, allowing him to apprehend my makeshift weapon. He turned me around and propelled me forward, back in the direction I’d come.

“Let me go!”

“Sure thing, love.” He forced me to my knees and backed away. “I find it interesting you’re trying to run. Didn’t you tell me we’d get far away from the island, just the two of us?” Breathing hard, I angled my head and watched as he tested the branches. He paused long enough to glower at me. “Or were you lying?”

“I-I didn’t—”

“Shut your deceitful mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”

I pressed my lips closed, and dread coiled in my belly, intensifying after he broke off a switch. With a cruel growl, he hefted me up by the back of my shirt. “Zach—”

“I said shut up! Not another fucking word.”

I was familiar enough with that tone to know when to give in. A deep ache tore through my chest. I held my fists to my breasts, as if I could keep my heart from beating through my ribcage. We cleared the last of the trees, and I realized I hadn’t run as far as I thought. I stumbled toward the cabin on trembling legs. Adrenaline seeped from my bones, leaving behind a coward who nearly sank to the ground with each step. Once we reached the porch, I fell to my filthy knees. Zach pulled me to my feet, dragged me up the stairs, and kicked the door open. He shoved me toward the bedroom and left me in the middle of the floor where I turned to a puddle of skin, bones, and a heart that beat too rapidly.

“Don’t you fucking move. If I have to chase you through those woods again, I’ll beat you unconscious.” He dropped the stick, as if to taunt me with its promise and the reminder of how little of a threat I posed to him.

After he left the room, another surge of adrenaline fueled my veins, and I crawled to the stick. But it was flimsy, barely thick enough to pass as a branch. What was I going to do? Whip him to death with it?

“Playing with your implement of punishment?”

I pushed to my feet and wielded the switch as if I could cause real damage. “Stay away from me.”

In one hand, he fisted a coil of rope. In the other, he gripped a bottle of what looked like cheap whiskey. He brought it to his lips, took a long swig as if his life depended on it, and placed the bottle precariously on the edge of the dresser. Reaching out a hand, he appeared unworried as he gestured toward me. “Hand it over and I’ll go easy on you.”

“You call whipping me going easy?”

He launched himself across the room, grabbed my arms, and the stick fell to the floor as he slammed me against the bedpost, facing outward.

“Zach!” I pleaded as he wrapped the rope around my wrists, tightening the knots with quick and jerky movements. He secured my hands to the post above my head, and the smile that graced his face was so cruel, I flinched from its impact alone. He withdrew a knife from his pocket and snapped open the blade.

“Zach, no!” I recoiled, but the sharp edge didn’t sear my flesh. Instead, the rip of fabric slashed through my ears. He slit my tee down to the navel, parted the material, and slapped my breasts once they swung free.

“God, I love your tits.” With a moan, he rubbed his rough cheek against them. Retrieving the switch from the floor, he took a step back, and we exchanged a moment of understanding, of silent communication between punisher and punished. Still, I wasn’t ready.

He’d hurt me before, with his hands, his teeth, but when he swung that stick down on my breasts, the point of contact served as an epicenter, and every muscle in my body spasmed from the deep ache. I clenched my teeth to keep silent.

He lifted his arm again, a tilt to his head as he regarded me, and I yanked at the bindings, composure slipping. “Don’t.” I twisted my hands, but that only made the rope dig into my wrists. “Please, please, please! Oh God—” The stick cut across my nipples, and I screamed his name. For the first time ever, he made me cry. More than cry. I bawled, begged, sobbed under each brutal lash.

“Shhhh.” He kneeled, bringing him eye level with my heaving chest. “Lex…” His whisper carried a strangled plea, and I wondered what the hell he had to plead for. He wasn’t the one on the receiving end of that stick. “Why do you make me hurt you? I should be inside your tight cunt, exactly where I belong.” He wedged my thighs apart and dipped his fingers into dry heat, then pulled back with a frown. “I want you drenched. You know how hard it gets me.”

Fingers spreading the lips of my mound, he buried his face there and dragged his tongue over my clit. I groaned, repulsed by the slick heat of his mouth. He kissed up my stomach, leaving a wet path to my breasts, and I stiffened. He licked the peaks, first the left then the right, and when he moved away, crimson stained his lips. My blood.

“This hurts me as much as you.” The muscles in his left arm tensed, fist tightening around the switch, readying for another swing.

Nothing on Earth prepared me for strike after strike on my breasts and stomach. “Stop!” Fire danced across my flesh, and I howled at the excruciating sting. I resisted glancing down, scared to see the blood smearing my skin, the ugly red welts he must have left behind. Instead, I focused on him, on the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the rigid set of his jaw. The regret in his eyes that made me want to gouge them out. He had no right to feel regret or pity. If either of those elusive emotions existed inside his cold heart, they were fleeting—like dust obliterated by an unstoppable storm.

The stick struck the floor an instant before he gingerly probed my pussy. His frustrated gaze clashed with mine, and I knew I was in deep shit.

“Zach,” I whispered. “Please…”

“Please what? What do I need to do to make you wet? What did
he
do?”

I shook my head. No, I couldn’t talk about Rafe. A sob broke free, then another. Tears slid down my cheeks, and each one amplified the grief simmering in my soul until all I felt was denial. Anger.

Rage.

“You killed him! I hate you.” I lifted a knee and struck his erection. “I fucking
hate
you! Do you hear me?”

Zach stumbled back, out of striking distance. While he doubled over, wheezing between lips tightened in pain, I unraveled, my gut-wrenching sobs tearing through the air, my feet uselessly kicking as acceptance finally penetrated.

Rafe was really gone.

I wailed, aching to clutch my breasts and contain the agony pouring from me. Zach might as well cut my chest open and carve my heart out with his teeth. It wouldn’t devastate any less. Nothing mattered anymore. He could beat me, cut me, kill me…I felt nothing beyond hatred and the remnants of despair.

I lifted my head, peering through tears and the messy curls clinging to my face, and caught his gaze, blasted all my hatred in that stare. He turned away, as if he couldn’t stand to look at me. But was it the sight of me that bothered him, or the truth that stared him in the face?