“Thinking of ways to try and kill me again?”

  “Would that make us even?”

  He chuckled and pushed away from the table he’d been leaning against.

  “You’re cute.”

  I ignored that. There were too many other important things to focus on.

  “Do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on? And how do we--.”

  “Yes,” he bit out, cutting me off. “I do mind. So should you.”

  He walked behind the plywood, out of my line of sight. There was a soft rolling noise, and then the ends of my restraints tightened around my wrists.

  “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t reply, continuing to tighten my restraints.

  My arms began to raise up on either side of me. When I resembled the shape of a capital T, he finally stopped. It wasn’t enough to hurt but this position was far from comfortable.

  Ciaran reappeared to my immediate left, walking right up to me this time. He placed a gloved hand on my lower hip and leaned in close. I swallowed, shutting my eyes as his familiar magnetic cologne wafted through my mask. He still smelled like a mix of warm cinnamon, mint, and masculine leather. The leathered parts of his hoodie were making that last part worse.

  “Careful, the walls can see and hear,” he whispered softly.

  My eyes flew open as his words registered. Did that mean even now we were being watched?

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know the answer.

  He skimmed his leather clad fingers across the exposed skin of my stomach, moving so that he was standing directly in front of me. “We’re going to give the people what they want.”

  His other hand landed on my right hip, he came even closer, bringing us practically chest to chest. I couldn’t lie and say this had no effect on me. My stomach felt like high tide, nerves were zinging beneath my skin. He’d always felt familiar to me, safe despite the fact he was a direct threat to my vitality.

  “You can’t mean--.”

  “I do,” he interrupted. “I need a reminder of what your pussy feels like when my tongues inside it.”

  My skin flushed, my body readily agreeing while my brain tried to rationally find a way out of this. Because, seriously, no freaking way. Not in this place. Not with everything going on.

  “You said people are watching,” I objected.

  “They are. That’s why we’re going to give them one helluva show.”

  His hands moved to the front button of my shorts and popped it through the hole.

  “You can’t,” I tried again.

  He ignored me, jimmying my shorts down until they were down around my ankles. The warm air hit my exposed skin, and I slightly shivered. My shirt was next. I figured he’d leave it on me because of the way my arms were positioned, but no.

  He removed a thick, silver handled blade from beneath the waistband of jeans behind his back and began slicing upwards. Going straight through the middle of my shirt. The material tore and my body jolted from his motions. I leaned my head back as far as I could in case his hand slipped.

  “Don’t you trust me, puppet?” he asked, his tone teasing.

  “Trust you as far as I can throw you.”

  He made quick work of the sleeves, tossing the ruined shirt onto the dirt floor when he finished shredding it. I was left tied up in my bra, boy shorts, and jean shorts down around my ankles. Mix that with the sinister mask and unkempt hair, I’m sure I was a sight to behold.

  Ciaran stepped back and simply stared. He was way too attractive in this getup. His black and white mask obscured his face, but I could feel his eyes all over me.

  “You’re beautiful.” He said it so softly I didn’t think I was meant to hear it.

  This certified he was out of his damn mind.

  “Ew. I’m covered in dried blood and who knows what else.”

  “Blood and grit are your colors, puppet. They make your skin glow.”

  He tucked his knife away and moved close again, this time going right to down to his knees.

  I tried to move my pussy away from his face, failing spectacularly due to the restraints.

  “I’d love to worship your body all night, but we’re gonna have to make this quick.”

  “Get away from me,” I ground out, attempting to twist away.

  His hands clamped down on my hips, locking me in place. Head tilting back, the coal black eyes of his mask met with mine.

  “You can cry, scream, beg, if you want to. It’s not going to stop me from taking what you’re pathetically trying to protect.”

  “Fuck you,” I seethed.

  “Patience,” he implored, dragging my underwear down to join my shorts. He let me go to raise his mask just high enough that only his mouth was exposed and then aligned his face with the center of my thighs.

  His leather clad palms skimmed over the back of my legs, inching them further and further apart until I was spread wide open.

  His mouth met with my apex, his soft lips making a trail to my pussy. Once there, he tenderly kissed and licked down and then back up, using two fingers to fully expose my clit. He cupped his mouth over it and began to tease me with his tongue, going from side to side and working it in a circular motion.

  I clamped my mouth shut and rolled my lips together.

  I struggled to suppress the moans building within my chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “Let me hear you,” Ciaran demanded, swiping his tongue down my slit, slowly easing it inside me.

  I could feel it as my pussy contracted. He rotated his hand and brought the pad of his gloved thumb down on my clit, rolling the swollen nub in torturously slow circles.

  Beneath the mask my face flushed, sweat beaded on my brow. The pleasure built, causing my abs to contract as electricity shot through me.

  I tried so hard to think of anything but coming in his mouth or how good this felt. We shouldn’t have been doing this, but right or wrong never mattered here. It was even more irrelevant when it came to me and him. He felt my body tense and smiled against my pussy, increasing pressure, maintaining the same tempo.

  Unable to hold back any longer, moans started to slip through parted lips. The feeling of his strong tongue slowly making its way up and down my pussy and to my clit had my body trembling.

  “You’re close,” he paused to tease. “Let go, puppet.”

  With one hand, he reached around and grabbed a handful of my ass, burying his whole face in my pussy.

  He was so deep inside me I felt his tongue between my walls as I spasmed. I moaned loudly, curling my fingers around the ends of my ropes.

  My brain was in a state of static when Ciaran rose to his feet, leaving cum and juices between my thighs. I heard the faint sound of a zipper going down, snapping back to reality when I was suddenly slammed against the plywood.

  “Ciaran,” I breathed, reaching out to stop him.

  My arm snagged, promptly reminding me that I was tied up.

  He slid his hands beneath the back of my legs and hoisted me up, using the bloodied plywood to brace my upper half, hooking my thighs over his arms. The head of his cock rubbed between my lips.

  Without a word, he seated himself inside me. I moaned—loud. He held still for a minute, his body tense.

  Mine did the same, pussy stretching to accommodate the sheer size of him. Holy shit his dick was bigger than I remembered. Thick and veined in all the right places.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he murmured only loud enough for me to hear.

  He pulled out, slamming himself back in. Not giving any further reprieve, he began to fuck me with hard, deep-seated thrusts. My chest was rapidly rising and falling, moans openly filling the air along with the sound of skin hitting skin.

  My arms began to burn, still being held up by the ropes. It was overshadowed by the overwhelming sensation of him being inside me. I was completely filled. As he pounded into me, I could feel his hard cock entirely.

  “Let go, puppet. I’ve got you,” he whispered in my ear.

  His warm, exposed lips brushed against the side of my neck, causing me to shudder around him. This felt overly familiar, like we’d done something it many times before.

  Waves of pressure built inside me, increasing in intensity. It peaked again and again until I had to let myself go. I curled my hands into fists, squeezing the ends of my restraints against my palms.

  A guttural moan tore from my throat as white-hot pleasure swam through my veins, toes curling from its intensity. My pussy contracted around Ciaran’s cock, spurring him into his own climax.

  He buried himself as deeply as he could, his dick twitching as he pumped his release into me. He didn’t pull out right away, simply holding me up and massaging the skin of my thighs where he’d harshly gripped me at. I could’ve been imagining things, but I swear he placed the lightest kiss on my cheek before finally pulling out.

  He lowered me down before he stepped away. I felt his loss in a different way than simply not having him inside me.

  “Whenever you’re with another man, remember whose dick was last inside you raw.”

  “What?” my voice came out sounding foreign. I blinked twice, the carnival sounds reaching me again as reality set back in.

  He fixed his jeans, tucking himself away without bothering to wipe my juices off. Once he was done, he removed the knife from his waistband and moved back in.

  “In due time you’ll know everything,” he murmured, placing the tip of his blade between my legs. I sucked in a breath, feeling cool metal skim over my inner thighs and briefly brush against my pussy before being brought up to eye level.

  A mixture of our cum and juices sat on the shiny metal. Ciaran lifted my mask from beneath, exposing my mouth like his was.

  Then, making sure I saw it, he licked the end of his knife and brought his mouth to mine, claiming it in a possessive, brutal kiss, ensuring I tasted us. When he broke away, I was left fighting for air and trying to clear my head.

  “I left your payment on the table,” he stated loudly, tossing the knife down onto the ground.

  Payment?

  That better not have meant what it sounded like. He fixed his mask, so his face was entirely covered again, then pulled up my shorts and underwear before fixing mine. Watching him silently, I wondered for the millionth time what his end goal was.

  I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt this time and try to believe he wasn’t out to get me. He could’ve killed me over a dozen times by now. He didn’t even seem mad I stabbed him.

  So, while he may not have been on my side one hundred percent, he wasn’t exactly an enemy either.

  At least, right now he wasn’t.

  “You’ve got five minutes until everything is clear. Don’t let me down, puppet” he stated before vanishing from view.

  “You can’t leave me here like this!” I yelled after him when he didn’t come back. I didn’t receive a response either. There was a faint rolling noise, and then my arms dropped like paperweights. Not prepared, my knees buckled, and I wound up down in bloodied dirt.

  I took a second to catch my breath, listening for any sound inside the tent. There wasn’t any. Ciaran was either hiding behind the plywood or he’d left. My wrists were still bound by the ropes but now that I could move my arms, I grabbed the knife he’d thrown down.

  I picked it up and quickly sawed through the rope on either wrist, freeing myself.

  Clambering to my feet, I looked around the tent wondering what to do next. Finding my group again was a given, but the way I’d come in from was more than likely being guarded and it would lead me right back to the funhouse. Not to mention anyone standing on either side of the fence would be able to see me clearly.

  Wait…

  Maybe that’s what Ciaran had meant.

  He said I had five minutes before everything was clear.

  Did that mean I could leave freely? Or did it mean that the cameras weren’t watching anymore? Turning over everything he’d said, I was going to assume it was the latter. He also mentioned something about a payment. I approached the desk to see what he had left.

  Folded on it neatly was a t-shirt like the one he’d just cut off me. Atop of that was the tiniest strip of paper. I sat the knife down and picked it up.

  Rear panel. To the right.

  The text was written so small it was nearly illegible. I ripped the paper up just in case, tucking the scraps into my pocket so that there was no evidence of his assistance left behind. I was ninety-nine percent sure he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything that benefited me.

  I quickly pulled the shirt on and then retrieved the knife. Those five minutes were now closer to two or three. I looked around the tent again, making sure there wasn’t anything I was missing. Not seeing anything, I made my way towards the side Ciaran vanished on. The panel had to be over here somewhere.

  I ran my fingertips over the heavy fabric that framed the wooden structure until I found what I was searching for.

  Once I pulled it back, I discovered a slightly angled door was right in front of me. Clutching the knife in my dominant hand I eased it open and slipped outside.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Everything that had happened so far, aside from a few small incidents, was all part of a bigger scheme.

  Mine.

  And theirs.

  I was doing all I could to ensure my puppet made it through this. Once she made it to the next checkpoint, we could work side by side again. That would be imperative to us making it out of Devil’s Playground alive.

  Until then I had to keep doing my part.

  Being the hellraiser—working with and against certain members of the Infernal Syndicate.

  Ky spoke to me via my still muted earpiece, guiding me through the carnival towards where he and Brody were waiting. The only people that gave me a second glance were the ones forced to attend the Diablos Carnival. Everyone else was aware of who I was and made sure to get out of the way.

  When I reached the far side of the carnival grounds, I double-checked I wasn’t being followed. There was a faulty piece of chain link fencing back here I would be using to make my exit. There weren’t any cameras in this area so only someone being a nosey fucking bastard would see me. That’d be the last shitty decision they ever made.

  When I didn’t see anyone, I quickly ducked through and stuck to the shadows until it was safe to step out. I knew the people in the control rooms had to be scrambling right now.

  They’d be sweating bullets trying to appease the big bosses and find out what the fuck was going on. Me and the boys were notorious for doing whatever we wanted, but we were being a bit more unpredictable than usual.

  I’d muted my headset so no one could hear what I was saying unless I wanted them to. I hadn’t wanted anyone stranger than me hearing my girl moan either. These twisted fucks would be just hairbrained enough to want the same for themselves and I couldn’t turn the Playground into my personal slaughterhouse.

  Not yet.

  I crossed the street and jogged to where the ice-cream truck was idling silently. As soon as I was inside, Brody shifted into drive and got us away from the carnival.

  “It went well?” Kyrous asked.

  I stepped over Morrigan’s gagged and bound body, reclaiming my usual seat on the bench.

  “Pretty much as expected,” I replied to Ky.

  He didn’t ask me to clarify. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. His headset wasn’t muted like mine.

  “Where we heading to?” Brody asked, doing a slow turn around a corner.

  I glanced down at Morrigan and nudged her with the toe of my boot. She wriggled around, drawing further into herself with a soft whimper.

  “We need to drop her off now.”

  “Got it.” Brody flipped the switch for the music and immediately the calming tune of the ice-cream truck began to fill the air.

  It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the predetermined intersection where Morrigan needed to go.

  Along the way we passed by another group that was doing surprisingly well. I think they’d lost a single person so far out of four. They were running in the opposite direction, the sound of the ice-cream truck spurring them into action.

  At the intersection, Charon and his cousin were already waiting on their set of matte black Vulcans for their new toy.

  “I got the doors,” Kyrous stated, slowly rising from his seat.

  I retrieved my back up knife since I’d just left my usual behind for puppet. I crouched and freed Morrigan from her restraints. She was covered in sweat. Given our truck was air conditioned, this could only be from a bad reaction to the injection of Helios she’d gotten.

  Her response time was slower than usual too. Even as I pulled her to her feet, I think it was the undeniable sound of the motorcycles that got her attention.

  Or maybe she noticed the two masked figures waiting for her once Ky opened the doors.

  “Wait,” she pled weakly, dragging her feet. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Stop embarrassing yourself. Your life doesn’t mean shit to me.” I shoved her towards Ky, unphased by her begging for the pathetic excuse of a life she wanted to hold onto.

  He caught her and shoved her ass out onto the street where she landed on her face. She immediately tried climbing her delusional ass back into the truck. It was truly running from one evil to another. Ky slammed the doors in her face and Brody hit the gas, giving him a chance to lock them.

  “We can move on now,” Ky more stated than asked once he was done.

  “Yeah.” I sat down and lifted off my mask, taking a few minutes to breathe without it.

  Ky did the same across from me, pulling his phone out, no doubt watching Gracelyn again. He hadn’t said anything yet, but I knew he was pissed about the vicious drug that was now swimming through her veins. I don’t know if that was because he was growing fond of her, like one did a pet or a pupil, or because someone had fucked with the controlled variables he always had.

  Whichever one it was, it put us on a potentially tighter schedule. She hadn’t shown any of the negative effects Morrigan had so far, which was obviously a good thing.