Echo sits at his booth in the back of the bar and glares at every guy I serve. Drawn to him, I watch the way he watches me. Intensity coats his features, his eyes narrowed, scanning the room for threats. Brandi’s off today, so I’m working with Abe, a quiet older guy who rarely speaks but gets the job done.
Echo strides across the room and rounds the bar, scooping me into his arms and kissing me breathless. Pulling back, we both pant loudly. “What was that for?” I ask.
Fire burns in his eyes. “To remind them, and you, that you’re mine,” he growls.
I shake my head and push at his chest. “Oh my God, you really are a caveman. I don’t need reminding, and neither do they. Literally everyone in this town knows I’m yours.”
His lips reach mine in a sweet, consuming touch. “Maybe I just like kissing you?” he teases.
I laugh loudly and wrap my arms around his neck. “Well, I suppose I can work with that,” I purr.
He sits me on the wooden bar and his fingers play with my curls absentmindedly. “What time do you finish today, sugar?”
I grab my phone from my pocket and check my schedule. “I’m on till five.”
He nods, his lips nuzzling into my neck. “I’ve gotta go take care of some stuff. Daisy’s on his way, but I’m not sure if I’ll be back before you finish. Will you be okay to drive the truck home?”
I roll my eyes at him. “I have no idea why this bar needs a biker security guard. I’ve never even seen a drunken scuffle here.”
He scowls and grasps my chin, squeezing. “Livvy,” he warns.
I sigh loudly. “Fine, whatever. I’ll be fine getting home. I’ll stop and grab some food so I can break in that oven of yours as well. Is there anything you don’t like?”
His smile is huge. “I’ll love anything you cook me. The house key on the ring is yours anyway, so call me if you need me.”
“I will,” I reply.
He lifts me from the bar and pulls me into a swoon-worthy kiss. My heart is racing when he sets me back down. Our eyes lock, his sincere and serious. “Love you, sugar. Be careful.”
Our kiss has left me panting and pulling in a shallow breath, I nod. “Love you too.” Our lips touch once more, and he leaves just as Daisy walks through the door.
The rest of my shift finishes quickly. “Bye, guys,” I shout, as I grab my bag and wave. Abe and Daisy nod their heads in acknowledgment, and I dart out the door towards Echo’s truck. It’s so pretty, big and red and shiny. I jump in and drive the short hop to the grocery store. Running in, I quickly grabbing some basics as well as steak for dinner.
After paying for my stuff, I head back outside and load my bags into the box in the back of the truck. My skin prickles, a shudder running down my spine, and pausing, I turn around and scan the street. Several empty cars are parked in the lot, their drivers busy shopping, but the feeling of being watched doesn’t disappear.
Cautiously, I push the rest of my bags into the truck, checking over my shoulder every few seconds. I scan the street again, then shake my head and laugh at my overactive imagination. Climbing into the truck, I turn the music up loud and head back to Echo’s.
After pulling into the driveway, I kill the engine and the music silences. Singing loudly, I jump from the truck and dance to the front door, unlock it, and throw it open wide. I wander back to the truck, flip down the tailgate, and start pulling my groceries from the storage box. I feel eyes on me, and the pit of my stomach clenches. Spinning, I look up and down the street. Cars are parked outside houses, and a few children play at the far end, their squeals muted by the distance.
Paranoid, I grab some of the bags and rush inside. The house is comforting, quiet but welcoming. I pull in a steadying breath and talk to myself in the silence. “God, Liv, get a grip.”
I place the bags in the kitchen, tamp down my nervous fear, and walk back outside. I lean over the side of the tailgate and grab the last of my shopping. Grunting from exertion, I mutter to myself, “God, how much did I buy? These bags weigh a ton.”
I turn to head back inside and pain pulses through my shoulder; I drop my bags as strong arms wrap around my chest and cover my mouth.
A thousand thoughts flash through my mind.
What’s happening to me?
Am I going to die?
Echo.
Mum and Dad.
Please don’t hurt me.
Please don’t rape me.
Frozen in fear, I’m dragged backwards with my heels scraping along the ground.
Time seems to stop.
“Fight.” I hear Echo’s voice in my head, and I’m jolted back to reality.
Fight.
I bite down on the hand across my mouth, my teeth sinking into the skin with as much force as I can. My attacker grunts in pain and drops the hand from my face.
“Help. Help! Help! Someone help me please!” I scream. I thrash, my fingernails clawing at skin, feet kicking, arms flailing. I fight for my life.
Dropped to the ground, I scramble to my feet. Disoriented, I spin, searching for the way to safety.
I freeze in shock. “Wyatt?” I gasp.
Wyatt’s eyes sparkle with insanity, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. Fear prickles my skin, my heart thudding in my chest. I step back and pull in a deep breath, preparing to run. Filled with adrenaline, I force all of my energy into my feet and surge forward, darting past Wyatt and towards the street.
Pumping my arms, I sprint. His steps are loud behind me, and I dare a look over my shoulder. He’s so close.
Screaming, I forge forward, running as fast as I can. Fingertips scrape my back, and I’m thrown forward. My arms instinctively go out in front of me as his weight hits my back, knocking the air from my lungs.
I dig my fingernails into the dirt and try to claw myself from beneath him. But he roughly flips me to my back before climbing on top of me. “Ahhhhhh, no! Get off me! Get off!” I scream in his face.
His fist slams into my cheek, and the force throws my head to the side. “Shut up,” Wyatt snarls. Heat surges through my face, my vision blurs as the surrounding skin starts to swell. He leans forward, his putrid breath blowing into my face. “I am the executioner. Time to face your fate.”
Pain explodes through my face, and everything goes black.
Pain.
Darkness.
Fear.
Hushed voices usher me towards consciousness. Pain pulses through my head, dizziness and nausea hitting as I struggle to open my eyes. Blinding light invades my pupils. I try to lift my arm to shield myself from the glare, but it won’t move.
I can’t move.
I pull at my other wrist. Straps hold me down. My legs are spread, but something tight is wrapped around my ankles.
I’m tied down.
I force my eyes open. My stomach churns, and throwing my head to the side, I vomit, fear and bile emptying onto the floor.
Wyatt’s face appears above me, disgust lining his mouth. “What on earth’s that smell?” A female voice speaks, and I twist my neck to see who it belongs to.
Wyatt turns to speak to the woman, and longing and fear flash across his face. “She threw up,” he says.
“It’s the devil in her, trying to break free. We need to release it so we can kill it. She’s beyond saving now,” the woman says.
Instantly, I recognise who it is and try to speak, my voice scratchy and dry. “Miss Mimi?” I gasp.
Her prim, poised face comes into view, only the violent anger in her eyes making her seem different from the southern belle I’d met the first day I went to her guest house. “Foul, evil whore. Be gone, devil. How dare you speak to me. I won’t be polluted by your nefarious ways,” she screams. Hatred twists across her face, the pearls at her throat jumping when her fist rises and smashes into my cheek.
The impact of her punch forces my face to the side, and I close my eyes for a second, defeated. I force my lids to open and glance at my surroundings. I’m in a copse of trees; forest surrounds us, and only the blue sky above taunts me with the thought of freedom. I pull at my bindings, but both my wrists and ankles are tied down. I’m completely immobile.
“Temptress,” Wyatt’s voice calls me, and I turn to him. Mania glitters across his face, a wide grin spread across his mouth. “Temptress, it’s time,” he taunts.
Fear fills my chest, and my breath comes in short, frightened bursts. “Time for what?” I ask.
He lifts a silver knife, the shiny blade glinting. He reverently strokes the tip of the blade with his fingers before running the flat length of it across his cheek lovingly. “It’s time to save you. The Sinners have infected you, tainted your very soul. Made you into a whore who spreads her legs for that filthy biker.”
Open-mouthed, I stare at him. I’m going to die.
“I can save you, Olivia. God spoke to me. He said you were meant to be mine. That this was a test for me. I have to save you, and you have to be pure enough to be saved,” Wyatt says.
I shake and dither in shock and fear and helplessness. Miss Mimi appears above me, her hand caressing Wyatt’s shoulder. Staring at me, she speaks. “She’s just like the others, darling. Filth and sin consumes her. She’s not good enough for you, my sweet. You need someone pure, someone who hears God and understands his call.”
She wraps her arms around Wyatt and turns him away from me, her old wrinkled hand cupping his cheek. “I understand you, sweetheart. I’m all you need,” she coos. She pulls him towards her and kisses him, her hand dropping to rub his erection through his trousers.
I gag, disgusted.
“No,” he shouts. He pushes her away, and she falls back, landing on the floor next to me.
“No. God said Olivia was mine. A gift for all my hard work and devotion. Praise for the souls I’ve set free, all those girls whose blood ran out before they were truly pure,” he rants. Wyatt steps closer and runs the knife along my cheek, the sharp tip piercing my skin. Heat surges to the cut, blood pooling to the surface. “You’re my reward, Olivia. He should never have touched you.”
His fists rain down on me, punching my face, chest, arms, and legs. I scream and try to curl my limbs up to protect myself, but the bindings hold me still and exposed to his punishment. Pain screams from my skin. Miss Mimi’s loud laughter is the last thing I hear as I drift into unconsciousness.