Make Me (The Silent Hollow, #2)

by Alina May

So here’s to a world where the heroes don’t look much different than the villains. How else are you gonna beat them unless you play their game? -Alina

don’t murder where you eat, or however the saying goes—but

Have you ever tried to stuff a full-grown body into the backseat? As a former cop, I’d advise you not to answer that question.

I flop down in bed, naked and hot and restless. Something isn’t right. Oh fuck, I forgot Buffalo. I shoot up, dizzy a little at my sudden movement, and dart to the dining room. Snatching the stuffed cow out of my backpack, I move back to the room. Buffalo is a highland cow with soft tan fur and curved horns. He has kind, wide-set eyes, although he’s anything but kind. I notice a glob of blood in his mohawk. “Fuck!” A stab of emotion pushes through the numbness, and I rush to the sink to wash him out. “I’m sorry. I tried to keep you farther back this time!” Silence. “Fucking hell.” I scrub until Buffalo’s hair is rough in my fingers. There’s nothing but the sound of running water and my fingers gritting over his hair. I failed. I got blood in Buffalo’s hair, and now he’s mad at me. I let out a laugh. It’s not a happy laugh. It’s more high and manic. Fuck, maybe that tequila did go straight to my head. I bring Buffalo back to the room with me, close my eyes, and wait for the noise to start. Wait for the voices to tell me what a failure I am. To harp on all the ways I left clues at the scene. To tell me to do more, more, more. But there’s nothing. I got blood on Buffalo, and now he won’t talk to me.

Ronan is mine to break. Mine to torture. Mine to play with. And when I’m done making him pay for reminding me of what I can’t have, he’ll be mine to kill.

‘Oh god, I love him.’ Buffalo sounds absolutely thrilled.

I found out later that Greyson killed himself. Hung himself from the rafters in his room. Also found out that before he died, he vomited. And I wasn’t there to rub his back. It was all my fault. I stopped talking to him, and he thought I gave up. The good part of my soul died that night.

“My name’s Logan. You call me that again, and I’ll shove my dick so far up your ass you won’t even remember what you look like.”

I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make my parents proud. I’ll never be gay. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll realize I’ve been paying attention. Maybe they’ll say I wasn’t such a bad kid after all. Maybe they won’t stop loving me.

A loud voice in my right ear makes me jump. ‘He’s hot.’ I jerk my head to look at the voice. Buffalo is lying on his side, staring at me. ‘Like, so hot.’

‘Why is it that they’re hotter when they’re mad?’ Buffalo’s voice has gone croony.

‘Ask for a kiss before you die.’ Buffalo’s voice is a mix of panic and excitement, making things worse.

‘What the fuck?’ Buffalo has perked all the way up. ‘Lap dance before we die?’

I close my eyes and sigh. “I don’t know, man. I woke up one day, and the thing was talking to me.” More silence. ‘Tell him I want to see his dick.’ I jerk my eyes open and glare at Buffalo. That doesn’t dissuade him, though. He just huffs, ‘I bet it’s big.’

‘Did you guys fuck?’ Buffalo pipes up. ‘Last night, before I got there.’

I glance around. Three plates? Who the hell else is here? Logan just calmly slides me a plate. “Eat.” I stare at him as he slides Buffalo his own plate. “What the fuck?” Logan starts eating. “I made him one. You have a problem with that?” “No, I…” I frown. ‘If you don’t marry this man, then I will.’ Buffalo sounds awfully pleased.

Logan smiles, giving me a little pat on the cheek. “Good boy.” And now, I’m suddenly hard.

“God, you’re so perfect. Show me how much you hate me.”

“If you bite me,” Logan reaches his hand down and pinches my nose, “I’ll choke you with it.”

‘Don’t you dare,’ Buffalo drones. ‘Logan has nice hands. I want them on me again.’ I narrow my eyes. If it wasn’t so damn quiet, I’d call him a slut. Because he is a slut. A nasty, filthy slut.

“Your silence is loud.” I jerk my head up. Logan motions at me. “I can feel you moping. Shut up.” Buffalo laughs. “Moping?” I sputter, and Buffalo laughs harder. “Sorry I’m not being a good enough captive for you. What would you like me to do? Clean the house? Worship at your feet?” Logan’s gaze darkens. “You offering?” “Fuck no.” I cross my arms at the same time Buffalo says, ‘Yes.’ Logan shrugs. “Then tell me what Buffalo says.” “Fuck no,” I spit back immediately. Logan gives a mean grin. “He likes me, doesn’t he?” “Likes you?” I sputter, looking for the right words. “Sure, like a dog likes the person who hits it. He doesn’t know any better.”

‘He’s so dreamy.’ Buffalo sighs beside me. “Dude, what the fuck?” I hiss lowly. “Now’s not the time. Where is he?” ‘Probably stroking his dick thinking about you.’ I grind my teeth together. “He kidnapped us. He plans to kill us. Where is he?” ‘Maybe I’m ovulating. But, like, I’d let him.’ “You’re a stuffy. Stuffies don’t ovulate. And what the fuck?” I can’t believe him right now. ‘He left you a present.’ “What?” What if it’s a grenade? Surprise, you’re awake! Now you’re not. Oh fuck, that’s too messy. What if it’s poison? What if it’s a snake? I don’t see anything until I wave my hand around. “What the he—" and there, on my finger, is the fish ring. ‘So romantic.’ Buffalo’s voice has gone croony. “What the fuck? No.” I rip the ring off and get down off the bed, realizing I’m still naked and yanking the sheet with me. “We need to focus on getting away. Not…whatever the fuck.”

Maybe it’s not the heroes who save the world at all. Maybe it’s the villains.

“You just need to be fucking punished; that’s what it is. Fucking brat.” His hand jerks my dick roughly. The sensation is overwhelming, locking me up every time he brushes the tip. I must be drunker than I thought, and I fucking like it. Note to self: drink whiskey; it makes you gay.

“You fucking…maple syruped me!” I’m panting, and I can’t fucking help it. My whole body feels electric. “Weenie drizzle.” “What?” “I prefer to call it weenie drizzle.”

“You suffer so sweetly for me.” He grins meanly up at me, and I tense. Then, Logan kisses the tip of my dick and moves as if he’s going to stand up. “What–” I pant. Is he just going to leave me hanging? Edge me until right before I come and then just…go? “Hmmm?” Logan looks up at me. “Oh, sorry, did you want to come?” Heat flushes across my cheeks. He laughs. The fucker laughs. But then, he strokes his hand up and down my dick, instantly providing relief. I bite back a groan. “Beg.” “What?” I snap my gaze to him. Logan grins. “Beg.” And, to my horror, my drunk brain wants to. Because yes, now I’m drunk. I have to be. Logan sees my hesitation, and I bark out, “Fuck you.” Immediately, he loosens his grip on me, taking away the friction I need. I hiss, batting his hand away and trying to do it myself. “No.” He yanks my hands away, and suddenly, my dick is in his mouth. But he doesn’t suck; instead, he lightly rakes his teeth down it. “Beg.” ‘Do it!’ Buffalo’s voice is in my ear. And he’s screaming. ‘Are you fucking kidding me? Just do it!’

“Come here,” Logan demands. ‘Yes, Daddy,’ Buff smirks from his favorite spot on the kitchen island. Nosey bastard wants to see everything.

“I want to be your first.” My heart stutters, and I stare at Ronan. He…what? “Make me your first.”

Suddenly, Ronan’s blustering back in. “Brought you a coffee, Logan.” Logan’s face changes, and he looks human for a second. He looks…touched. And then Ronan moves the rim of the mug—my mug—in his mouth and starts spinning it. He spins it until he’s licked around the whole rim, then hands it to Logan. “Here you go, champ.” The room fills with stifling energy, with both men locked in lethal stares with each other. “Did you just…around the world with my coffee?” Logan asks slowly. Ronan just gives him a deadpan look.

‘Maybe you should fuck the attitude out of him.’ “Buff!” I bark, but he just cackles. ‘Just saying. He’s hot.’ I mutter quietly, “And ‘straight.’” ‘Nah. I have a sense for these things.’ “You’re a stuffed animal.” ‘So you should be even more concerned that I have better judgment than you.’ Jesus. This fluff-filled fucker has gotten way too loud. Maybe I need to stop drinking? Nah.

Callum hiccups and waves. “Hey guys.” His words are slurred. “Which one of you is shooting me?” ‘He’s so hot. Let’s add him to our harem.’ The hugs are gone. Completely evaporated with rage. This man tried to kill my man. He tried to touch my man. “Fuck you, Buffalo!”

Logan brushes back my hair, then leans in so close that our noses bump. “I’m not going anywhere. You have time. You’re not an inconvenience. And I’m not waiting for you to ‘get better.’ Whatever the hell that means. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“It’s not fair,” I say quietly. Because it’s not. It isn’t fair that Greyson died. It isn’t fair that Ronan’s seen more than his share of trauma. And it isn’t fair that Dakota has lived more than his share of trauma. But, as the music plays around us, I realize that it also isn’t fair that I’ve found the best men to be by my side. I don’t deserve them, and yet here they are.

“You’re supposed to be finding me. This is cheating.” “What is going on? Are you okay?” “What? Yeah, why?” I groan, slumping back in the seat. “Ronan texted me SOS! I thought you were hurt.” Ronan mutters, “It was the only way to get you outside.” I turn to him, taking a long time to register what he just said. “It’s because…I have a job? I can’t jus-s-st leave??” “You just did,” Ronan says. “Okay. Turn around.” “Nope. Finders keepers. I found you, I’m keeping you. Or however the rules go.” Ronan grins at me. “Hang up. You’re cheating.”

I should be at work right now. This is a soft kidnapping. I’m even wearing a gun, and I’m letting it happen. My god, the daddy issues.

‘Now you know what it feels like.’ I glance over. Buffalo is sitting next to the tank. As usual, he has tufts of hair sticking up from all angles. Buff sighs dramatically. ‘They have all the fun and never let us join.’

‘They’re probably kissing right now. Hot.’ I twitch my tail. ‘Would you shut up?’ Buffalo looks down his fluffy nose, in only the way Buff can, and snorts, ‘Make me.’