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The Ritual(152)

Author:Shantel Tessier

“Don’t cry, baby. This is your fantasy. This is what you want.”

“No,” I sob, my hair sticking to my wet face.

“Yes. I saw Ryat. I watched him carrying you tied and gagged and him put you in the back of his SUV where he then hogtied you. He even lifted your shirt and played with your tit. Then the woods—now that was interesting. I wanted you to come find me, but it was him you found instead. So I watched him get what was supposed to be mine. I watched him fuck you in the woods,” he whispers. “And you know what I did? I jacked off watching you get off while he fucked and choked you. You loved every second of being treated like the whore you are. I underestimated you, baby. But it’s okay. I can admit my mistakes.”

I whimper.

“I’m going to line them up for you.” He licks across my face, and I try to turn my head but can’t how he has me pinned down. “Put my Lady to work for the Lords. You’ll be the talk of the …”

“You’re not a fucking Lord!” I shout over him. I heard someone saying that he was stripped of his title. On the run after Ryat killed Cindy and Ashley.

His face morphs into red with rage and he leans down into mine so close, his forehead rests on mine while he screams, “I AM A LORD …”

I move my head just enough to sink my teeth into his nose. As high up as I can, feeling the skin tear and bones breaking. His blood fills my mouth when he yanks back, breaking it free of my teeth, and I take the skin off in the process. Then I spit it on him.

Sitting back on his knees, he brings shaking hands to his face, screaming in agony.

“Fuck you!” I roll onto my side for better leverage, propping myself up on my left arm and slam my foot into his face, knocking him back even farther. “You motherfucker!”

He throws his head back, his arms out to his side while blood pours from his face, screaming so loud my ears ring.

I get to my feet, turn and run out of the hallway only to come to another one. It’s got door after door. I try them all, needing a place to hide. To regroup. To wash up. Now I’m covered in his blood. It’s dripping off my chin onto the floor. He’ll be able to track me. Plus, it’s making me want to puke.

A door finally opens and it’s a set of stairs. I close it behind me and run down them, skipping the last three. Landing on my feet, I trip but manage to stay standing this time. I see a door to my right and open it. Shutting it behind me, I lock it and listen to myself sucking in breath after breath.

It’s pitch black. My hand slides along the wall by the door, looking for a light switch, but when I find it, I pause. I can see the light from the hallway underneath the door. So I keep it off, not wanting to give myself away.

“BLAKELY!” I hear him shouting my name.

I throw my hands over my mouth, trying to silence my sob while walking backward from the door in the dark.

“You fucking bitch!” he goes on. “You will beg on your knees! Your fucking knees, BITCH!”

Taking another step back, I hit something hard and thankfully my hand muffles the scream I make. It’s a wall.

Panic grips my chest, and I turn around to face it. My hands frantically reach out, hoping to find a door handle of some sort or any way of an exit. But the thought of any escape vanishes when the door to the room bursts open.

Spinning around, I watch a blood-covered Matt step inside the dark room. The light from the hallway behind him makes only his outline visible.

“I found you, you little bitch.”

I try catching my breath, but I can’t. My chest is heavy, and my side hurts from running. “I knew you liked the fight.” He steps closer into the room, reaching behind him, he pulls two pairs of handcuffs from his back pocket, and a lump gets lodged in my throat. He smiles. “We’ll see how hard you fight once these are on you.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

RYAT

“DO YOU HEAR that?” Phil asks me, holding up his hand to listen.

It’s faint, but I hear it. “BLAKELY!”

“It’s Matt,” I confirm what we already expected.

“Yeah.” And he sounds pissed. “Let’s keep moving.”

We tracked her to a place around Niagara, on the lake of Ontario. It’s about four hours away by car. Phil’s private jet got here in one. We have no clue as to why he picked this place, but my guess is that he plans on relocating her to Canada at some point.

Thanks to another Lord, we were able to get a hold of the prints and saw tunnels that ran underneath the structure. Thankfully, we were able to enter from the outside. The plans didn’t show the buildout complete.