Page 87 of Awakening the Beast
Without a word, he brings something in front of me, and I tear my gaze away to glance down. My heart skips a beat when I see him offering me my gun, held securely in his leather-gloved hand. I inhale deeply, steadying myself, and take it from him, the cold metal preparing me as I cock it back, ready for whatever is about to happen.
In an instant, his hand shoots up, grasping my throat with a firm, possessive grip, pulling me back against his solid chest. I elevate my chin as he dips his head down. “The day you can outrun your husband will be the day I stop doing this. The more you're scared of me, the more you get my cock hard,” he growls, and my eyes flutter closed, my breathing picking up as his words sink in, each one tightening the knot of fear and desire in my gut.
“Now run for me, slut,” he commands with a menacing whisper that wraps around me like a vice. “Run so fucking fast, then fight for your life. Get that little cunt soaked and ready for me, so when I finally get my hands on you, I can feast on every fucking drop of your fear.”
His grasp on my throat loosens just enough for me to break free, but the searing imprint of his hand lingers. Just as I’m about to sprint, he delivers a sharp smack to my ass, the force jolting me forward as he snarls,“Tick fucking tock.”
With those words from the past resonating in my mind, combined with the sting on my skin, they send me into motion, my pulse pounding as I take off, knowing he’s right behind me, ready to chase me down.
The closer I get to the building, the heavier the rain seems to fall, soaking through my little clothing and drenching my skin.The cold bites into me, but I push forward, my heels splashing against the wet ground as I bolt toward the only visible entrance—a rusted door hanging on its hinges.
I reach it, my hand gripping the handle, but before I yank the door open, I throw a glance over my shoulder and my breath gets lodged in my throat when I see that Arlo is no longer standing by the car. Panic twists in my stomach as I scan the area, but the rain obscures my vision, and he’s nowhere to be seen.
Swallowing my fear, I pull on the handle, the door creaking loudly as I force it open. Without hesitation, I slip inside the broken-down structure, the darkness swallowing me whole as I step into the unknown, every sense on high alert. Inside, the air feels thicker, almost overwhelming, and each breath I take is heavy with the scent of decay and rust.
I move with purpose through the empty halls, my grip on the gun firm and aimed steady. My heels softly click against the concrete floor, and I begin to balance on my tiptoes to be less detectable. Every so often, lightning flickers, revealing brief glimpses of the huge area—abandoned furniture, broken windows, and the hint of movement in the corners of my vision.
I’m not just running anymore; I’m hunting too. I know Arlo is in here, somewhere in this maze of darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to attack, I can feel his overpowering energy, but I won’t make it fucking easy for him. I’m no helpless damsel; I’m fierce, capable, and armed.
Lightning flares again, and I catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure darting past an open doorway. I swing the gun in that direction, muscles tensed, ready to pull the trigger, but the lightfades, plunging the room back into darkness, and the figure vanishes as if it were never there.
I hear the faintest echo of footsteps, slow and deliberate, coming from somewhere nearby. My heart races, and I raise the gun higher, my finger hovering over the trigger.
Another flash of lightning illuminates the room, and I catch a sign of him—or at least, I think I do. A tall, ominous figure lurks just a few feet away. I hold my breath, but don’t hesitate. I fire, the gunshot echoing through the building like a crack of thunder. He bolts behind a pillar, the bullet whizzing past him, missing by mere inches. A growl of frustration escapes me as I maintain my aim, heading in that direction.
Suddenly, a noise behind me makes me spin around, my eyes darting around. I keep moving forward, but before I can get too far, he’s there. He grabs me from behind, his hand clamping over my mouth brutally.
His grip on my wrist is strong, trying to force the gun from my hand. I refuse to give in and with a surge of strength, I slam my heel down on his foot. He grunts, his hold weakening, probably more than he’d like to admit. I seize the opportunity, wrenching free from his grasp. I sprint toward a set of metal stairs leading to a second floor.
In my frantic rush, I kick off my heels, the sound of them clattering down the stairs as I climb them. I hear his heavy footsteps behind me, growing closer and with a surge of adrenaline, I spin around, lifting my gun and firing another shot. The bullet strikes him squarely in the chest, but it’s absorbed byhis bulletproof vest. He staggers back a step, his hand clutching the metal banister to steady himself.
For a split second, we both freeze, our eyes locking behind the balaclavas. The bullet lodged into his vest is an insane reminder of the deadly game we're playing, but also the trust we have in one another.
He straightens up, his expression hidden but the frustration clear. When his eyes flash with something sinister, he charges forward with alarming speed.
Instinctively, I fire again, the bullet embedding in his chest and forcing him back. He lets out a groan but doesn’t hesitate, he continues forward. I try to let off another bullet, but my gun clicks, the mag empty.
“Bastard!” I hiss under my breath, dropping the useless weapon.
Turning sharply, I sprint up the metal stairs, the sound of his footsteps growing louder behind me. I cross a metal platform that's shaky and unstable. At the edge, I glance around, searching desperately for an escape. Arlo's form comes into view, moving quickly toward me and without a second thought, I hop over the railing, grabbing hold of it to break my fall, and then leap down to the bottom floor.
I land awkwardly, a sharp, searing pain shooting through my ankle as I land into a crouch. I yank the balaclava from my head and toss it aside, breathing heavily.
When I look up, I notice Arlo's silhouette against the lightning-streaked sky as he stares down at me. I rise slowly,holding his gaze, and then defiantly hook a finger at him, inviting him to follow. I taunt with a smirk and his eyes shifts before he leaps over the railing effortlessly.
As soon as his feet hit the floor with a loud thud, I bolt, wincing with every step due to the pain in my ankle. The sound of his pursuit fades, but I dare to slow down. I glance back to check if he’s still behind me, but when I don’t see him, I relax slightly, catching my breath. Reaching the door, I push it open with a grin, the rain immediately soaking my flushed skin as I step out into the storm.
I tilt my head back, letting it pound down me, cherishing the brief moment of relief. Just as I prepare to race back to the car, the heat of his presence engulfs me. Before I can react, his arm wraps around my middle from behind, his other hand pressing a fabric-soaked cloth over my mouth and nose. The sharp, chemical smell invades my senses, sending me into a daze as I struggle weakly against him.
“Nice try, baby,” he growls viciously against my ear, his breath hot and taunting. “But I couldn’t go without eating your wet pussy tonight. I’m fucking starving.”
His words slur into a low, menacing rumble as my vision blurs. My eyes close heavily, and the world around me fades to black.
Sitting in a rusted old chair some distance away, I rip my balaclava off and toss it carelessly to the filthy ground. I stretch out, resting my ankle over my knee, and slump back, lighting a cigarette with a flick of my lighter. The flame briefly illuminates the grimy space around us before I inhale deeply, the toxic smoke filling my lungs.
My eyes never leave her.
She’s right where I left her, suspended by a thick rope that holds her arms above her head. Her knees positioned and bound to two separate chairs, splitting her thighs wide apart, no panties and exposed for me to do as I please.
