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To anti-heroes and villains.
I’m trapped by the devil. What started as an innocent mistake turned into actual hell.
He stalked me from the shadows and stole me from the life I know. Jeremy Volkov might appear charming, but a true predator lurks inside.
But I have no plans to stick around in his blood-soaked world. Or so I think.
The price of becoming a Heathen is handing over your life. In a literal sense of the word. If you aren’t willing to pay that, please exit through the small door to your left. Once you leave, you’ll lose any chance to join us again.”
Red Mask’s fingers circle a baseball bat that’s resting nonchalantly on his shoulder. Green Mask is holding a bow and has arrows with rubber points in a quiver that’s slung over his back. White Mask strokes a huge chain that’s draped around his hands like a snake. Orange Mask’s gloved hand rests on top of a metal golf club that’s propped on the ground. Yellow Mask has no weapon at all, but his fists are balled.
Orange Mask rises to his impressive height that nearly eats up the horizon, then slowly, too slowly, his head tilts in my direction. The neon stitches glow in the near darkness as eerie silence stakes its claim. My spine jerks when his rough, deep voice echoes in the air. “I know you’re hiding. Come out and I promise not to hurt you. Much.”
I’m trapped by Orange Mask who’s standing about thirty meters away nonchalantly holding the club that rests on his shoulder.
Hell, maybe I’ll have to be admitted to the hospital and my parents will hear about this reckless decision I made and be disappointed in me.
Since he was hot on my trail, he should’ve caught up to me by now. Unless…
“Is there a reason why you’re always hiding?”
the girls and I often see at the fight club. Or Jeremy Volkov. Please don’t let it be Jeremy.
A sane person would wish for anyone aside from the psycho Killian Carson or the crazy Nikolai Sokolov, but in my eyes, Jeremy has always been the worst of the Heathens.
He already eliminated me, why would he need to see my face? There was no rule about that.
Also, why does he get to see me when I don’t get to see him? That’s not fair. The world isn’t fair, Cecily. That’s just the way it is.
The best way to allow someone to win is to let them get into your head, confiscate your thoughts, and replace them with paralyzing fear or threats.
“Fuck me first,” I whisper, my voice so low that I barely hear it. His entire being pauses, like when I slapped his hand earlier. “Fuck you first?” he repeats slowly, almost as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue. I nod. He releases my hair, hand snaking down to the pulse point in my throat, leaving shivers in its wake before he cups a breast through my shirt. His touch is savage, almost punishing as he digs his fingers into the skin. “Why?” It takes everything in me to remain collected despite the throbbing and the dull ache in the sensitive flesh of my breast. “I don’t want to die a
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The only exception is him. The one I’m doing a favor for and because of whom I’m in this predicament.
Most importantly, why are my thighs clenching, throbbing, and demanding I go back to that merciless stranger?
Something a lot more intense than pain slices through me, and my fingers tremble before they move up to stroke over my breast.
The same breast Orange Mask grabbed so savagely, tortured and dug his fingers into until I was gasping for air. But it’s not the same feeling now.
How could I recreate the image of being trapped with that monster when I should be glad I escaped him?
follow me to finish what he started. He’d trap me against the nearest wall and tell me in that deep voice of his that running away was only the beginning, not the end.
A part of me, a stupid, lovesick part, views it as a betrayal to Landon.
And that’s the height of irrationality. Lan and I aren’t an item. Hell, he has no clue about my feelings for him and had friend-zoned me to the next planet when we were kids.
How he touches me like he does his sister. How he looks at me with nothing of the fire that I hold for him deep in my heart.
I’ve never been good at expressing myself—I’m a listener, not a talker. At least, when it comes to things that concern me.
have to show Landon that I’m not a delicate princess and that I can and will take the hardcore stuff.
Anyone on Brighton Island is well aware of that name and the promise of fear it brings.
Jeremy Volkov. Leader of the Heathens, part of the Russian mafia, and the current reigning monarch over the whole of TKU.
I can’t even control my own life. All I’m capable of is watching from afar like a perfect spectator.”
it’s not like I want to know the identity of Orange Mask. I do not.
Could it be Orange Mask?
Gareth Carson and Jeremy Volkov. The first looks like a groomed prince with his styled hair, clean-shaven face, and elegant trousers and button-down.
Jeremy is considered the dark beauty type. He’s that one person you know is handsome, beyond attractive, but his actions paint him as more monstrous than beautiful. Destructive. Unapproachable.
“What—” “Shhh,” his rough voice sounds in my ear like a twisted symphony. An invitation
It’s Landon. This is actually happening. Though…wait.
That he’s the one who’s running the show. The one who’s in control. The one who can both hurt me and please me if he chooses to.
“So this is how good girls like you get off. Does being used in the middle of the night like a worthless fuckable hole turn you on, Lisichka?”
He definitely doesn’t pause. He, as in, the guy who certainly didn’t sound like Landon.
“Try again.”
Oh, God. Oh, no. Please, no. The only reason I went against my character, my moral code of conduct, and did this is because I thought it would be with Landon.
“You look plain and innocent, but deep down, you’re nothing but a dirty little slut. You’re ready to do anything to get rid of this barrier, no? You asked for it last night, begged for it, even.”
He’s Orange Mask.
“You think I give a fuck about whatever little game you had with Landon?”
It is Jeremy.
If there’s anything I’ve learned about the Jeremy Volkov, it’s that you should stay out of his path. Avoid him. Change direction upon seeing him.
Do whatever it takes to not be noticed by him. Or worse, be threatened by him.
He’s planned this. From getting me in this part of the forest to impersonating Landon. He planned everything. And I fell right into his trap.
He’s watching me, but he might as well be looking through me. It didn’t take him long to flip my world upside down, to unlock a part of me even I was scared of, but he doesn’t look affected in the least.
