Hansel 2(An Erotic Fairy Tale)(22)

But Leah changes things.

Just as she starts to press down with her hand, she lifts it up. Her eyes flicker over mine, and then she grabs my wrists and pushes them over my head. Her hand tightens around them, pressing my wrists against the mattress as she finds my nipple with her teeth and bites, so hard I blow my load inside her, barking out my pleasure—and the pain.

I try to pull my wrist away, but her grip is tight. She’s coming, too, seconds behind me. I try to lie there while she finishes. Try to ignore the sensation of having my wrist touched; no one ever touches it but this is Leah.

I watch her face as pleasure flickers over it in waves.

Come on, Leah…

I grit my teeth and jerk my wrists out of her grasp. I try to, but she won’t let go. Not fast enough.

She doesn’t know, but every pain that I enjoy is nothing in comparison to this.



*



Lucas

Fourteen Years Ago



The warehouse is the last one on a row, at the back of an old, abandoned factory district in Las Vegas.

Inside, at night, it’s even creepier than the shit-hole it is during the day. I’ve been here a few times in the past few months, all for shit like this, but tonight is different.

Tonight, through the back door, the one that leads to the old kitchen, there’s a challenge. An initiation task. This is the last one.

I stand there in my black pants and my black sweatshirt. My face is covered by a hood, only my eyes and mouth visible to the guys around me who are soon to be my Brothers; fellow Raiders.

In the last few years, this gang has taken over every school in Vegas, and at my school, it’s especially prominent.

Standing there with my arms folded in front of me, lined up with the other five in my clan, facing Steven W., our leader, I feel sick inside. I wish so much that I had chosen something different.

I wish that I’d been brave enough, selfless enough, to tell Shelly ‘no’ when she asked eight months ago if I wanted to live with her.

I did—I do want to; I love it, but when she finds out I joined a gang, it’s going to kill her. I know she’ll feel like she failed me, and she didn’t. Not at all. I was in this shit before she made her offer. All me. My choices.

So I can’t complain when Steven starts to talk, and my stomach clenches up. Our task is gruesome. Sick, even. It makes my head pound and my throat feel tight.

He describes in detail what we do, and I wonder dumbly if I could maybe run.

But no…

He has a gun. We all have knives. The time for opting in and out has come and gone. I’m in this now.

“When I open the door, she’ll be lying there with her arms and ankles tied. Go at her, one after the other. Raz, you’re first; then Bolly, Davis, Ham, and Luke. Be fast, get in, get out, and Luke, you’ll wrap things up.”

Bile licks up my throat. I reach into my pocket, not for my knife, but for my phone. My mouth is so dry, my stomach so acidic, I’m sure I will be sick. My head spins.

I can’t do this.

This is horrible.

I take a small step back, unplanned, just my feet trying to make decisions for me. Steven’s eyes fly to mine, and I fumble in my pocket, wondering if I can feel my way to 9-1-1. I wonder if I could ask to take a piss and call Shelly. Tell her she should call the cops. Do I know the address here?

“Get with it, Luke.” A fist connects with my jaw, and I shove Steven’s chest. He’s in charge, but he likes it when we fight.

I follow the others and we line up along a peeling, moldy wall in the back of the main room, where we’ve met all the times we’ve come here. Davis laughs at Raz, who’s moaning on the other side of the wall.

I clench my jaw as Raz comes out. He’s laughing. “Steve, you’re sick, man.”

Steven smirks.

I fumble with my phone as Bolly and Davis take their turns. Steve hands me a knife, and right about that time, Ham starts to cuss and scream. My heart goes crazy, beating so fast I’m worried I might die right where I stand, as Steven goes inside, a gun goes off, and Steve and Ham come out.

Both their cheeks are speckled with something dark. I know without asking that it’s blood.

Steve comes up behind me, taps my shoulder. “You’re up. It’s gonna be fucking weird,” he says in a low, dark voice, “cause I already offed her. Bitch slashed Ham here.” He jerks his thumb to the tall redhead with braces that shine in the dim light. Ham holds up his hand, then shrugs.

“So go on in,” Steven says.

The other guys snicker, and I’m sure it’s because she’s dead already.

I’m not fucking a dead woman. That’s fucking godawful. Fuck that. I’ll just pretend. AT least I don’t have to off her.

Everyone crowds around me as I open the door. Steven is grinning, and so are the rest.