The dense undergrowth scratches the sides as I navigate the Pontiac through uneven terrain for the third time in less than two weeks. We’re already deeper into the woods than I took Jensen, and heading in a different direction. The paintwork is paying the price for the ten miles we’ve covered.
Gunshots carry further than screams. Much further in an open space than the depth of the dark forest, but I’d rather not take the risk that someone on campus might hear my Glock. Ten miles is a stretch. Half the distance would’ve been fine, but I’m stalling.
I’m fucking worried what Hailey might see.
She’s in the passenger seat, her dainty fingers toying with the strings of my hoodie, her back rigid with anticipation, or fear—I can’t tell which. And the uncertainty is eating at me. The uncertainty of what she’s feeling.
I’m torn, split right down the fucking middle. Part of me, the part that’s spent the past few weeks wrapped around Hailey’s little finger, dreads another panic attack.
I can’t breathe when she’s scared. When she’s trembling and fighting the past. When that haunted look clouds her blue eyes. The look that says she’s far away, somewhere dark, somewhere I can’t protect her.
That part of me wants to turn back, take her to bed and spend the evening making her fall apart beneath me.
But there’s another, much stronger part. A separate being inside me, clawing for the answers locked in the impenetrable vault of her memories.
She’s right. The flashback she had about the gun is the most crucial memory she’s yet had.
Even if it doesn’t fit anywhere in the narrative I’ve been fed. It can’t be Babyface’s finger on the trigger. It can’t. Hailey was out of it when the fucker took my privilege and shot Alex.
She couldn’t have seen that.
So what did she see? Who was shooting? Who was shot?
Rhett never mentioned anything. The police reports are a blank slate. Whatever happened, only Hailey knows, and that tells me it’s important. New information always is.
Dusk paints the sky far above, shades of fading light peeking through the canopy as I stop the car, killing the engine. The low growl dies away, replaced by a heavy silence, the kind that rings in your ears. I reach for the glovebox to retrieve the gun, flexing my fingers around the handle.
Over the years, my gun’s become an extension of my hand. One I was robbed of the day I arrived at Lakeside.
“Ready?” I ask, waiting for confirmation.
She pinches her lips, still as a statue for a moment, before she grabs the handle and exits the car. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Stand there.” I point at a tree directly in front of the hood.
Taking a few cautious steps, she obeys, watching my every move while I open the trunk and retrieve a length of rope from my backpack.
“What are you doing?” she mutters, her complexion blanching when I come closer. She pulls back, hitting the tree with her back. “What’s that for?”
I curl my fingers under her chin, angling her head up. “You trust me, and you’re going to follow my orders. You promised. You’re safe, pretty girl. I’m not taking any chances.”
I whip one end of the rope around the tree, then tie both ends over her stomach. It’s a simple knot that’ll hold her in place in case this works and she dives back into the past.
“You’re not running blindly across the forest tonight.”
She swallows hard, her fingers clasping the rope. “You’re overreacting.”
“Am I?” I double-check the rope’s tight. Not enough to hurt but enough to hold. It’s for her safety as much as my sanity. “You still have a bruise larger than my hand on your hip from hitting the asphalt last time.”
She rolls those annoyed blues at me then quickly bites her lip, realizing what she’s done.
This girl has way too much power over my dick.
“We have time.” I grab her jaw, sinking my fingers into her cheeks until her lips part and my index finger slides into the wet heat of her mouth. “And out here… you can be as loud as you want.”
She twirls her hot tongue around my digit, sucking gently before I pull it out and close her mouth with mine.
In three tugs, the knot comes undone. The rope pools at her feet a second before I wrap her in my arms, her legs around my waist for the short ride back to the car.
“Cold!” she yelps when I sit her on the hood.
“You’ll be burning up soon.” I spread her legs, making room for myself and kiss her again, my fingers spidering up her thighs, under her dress, until I hit the mark. “Wet already. Lay back, I’ll warm you up.”
Her head meets the hood, both hands spread out, holding on not to slide off while I take a knee on the damp forest floor, dipping my head under the flowery fabric. It’s too fucking cold for dresses, but right now, as I move her soaked panties to the side, uncovering pink, glistening pussy, I’m glad Hailey’s not wearing jeans.
Though knowing her cute, girly style is all Alex, I’ll be buying her a whole new wardrobe.
“Exhibitionism,” she says, tangling her finger in my hair. “That’s a kink, isn’t it?”
“It’d require an audience.” I don’t waste time kissing her thighs. I go straight for the prize, licking her back to front, the sweet, pungent taste of her covering my tongue and turning my already hard cock into a steel baton. “We’re alone out here. It doesn’t count.”
She makes a disgruntled noise at the back of her throat that morphs into a moan when I suck her clit into my mouth.
“That’s right, let me hear you.”
And she does. She lets loose, every sound hitting my ears at full volume. I add a finger, then another, and when her thighs clasp my head, I circle the tight ring of muscles at the back with my middle finger, sending her hurtling toward release.
“I can’t fucking wait to be here,” I say, pushing my finger inside her. Just the tip, barely past the first knuckle, but she’s so damn sensitive her orgasm lasts forever. “Soon.”
“Why not now? I don’t mind.”
I whip the Glock from the waistband of my jeans, leaving it on the front seat and grab a condom from my wallet.
“We need a plug, lube, and a couple of hours. It’s like losing your virginity all over again. No rushing.”
“Will it bleed?”
“No. It won’t hurt, either. Not if I get you ready for me.” I yank her lower, the heat of her pussy an inch from my cock. “Hands on my shoulders and brace. This won’t be vanilla.”
Her lips meet mine the second my cock sinks balls-deep inside her. It’s fucking hot that she’s still wearing my hoodie. And even hotter how she nips and kisses my neck, pulling herself forward like she wants me deeper.
I grab her ass, keeping her in place while I work myself into her hard and fast. The turmoil of emotions brewing inside me on our way here finds a way out. I focus solely on Hailey’s pussy clenching around my length, on how she clings onto my neck. How erotic the symphony of her gasps, moans, and our flesh slapping together sounds, echoing in the crisp air.
How much I feel for her.
“Don’t stop,” she mewls, locking herself in position so I’ll hit the same spot over again. “Oh, oh… almost, almost…”
“Not yet, Hailey. On one,” I grunt, every next thrust longer and harder. “Three.”
“No, no, no, no, no, I can’t hold it.”
“Yes, you can. Focus. Hold it. You’ll come with me.”
“Two!” She digs her fingers into my neck, her whole body juddering with the effort of keeping her orgasm in check. “Say two or I’ll use the safe word!”
I gather her hair, tugging twice so she tilts her head and stares into my eyes, the column of her throat on display, her lips almost level with mine.
“Two,” I say, pulling her in so I can sink deeper.
Tears well in her eyes, her legs shake around my waist, and she’s so fucking close her pussy almost chokes my cock.
“You’re beautiful, Hailey. So fucking beautiful when you can’t take it.” I pull her hair again, watching her lean back, holding herself up on her elbows. “Now. One.”
It’s a fucking explosion.
Pure ecstasy paints her face as the orgasm rips through her, so potent I can almost taste the way she comes with my name purring from her sweet lips.
A name.
Nash, not Carter like I’m dying to hear her moan.
She’s falling apart at the seams, her eyes shut tight, head thrown back. Her hands give out and she thuds against the hood, her spine arching.
My orgasm follows almost instantly, cramping my thighs as I fall forward, bracing on both hands.
“Fuck,” I snap, resting my forehead on her chest. “I could do this for hours, pretty girl.”
“Maybe not here,” she chuckles. “Although… do you think that one day, not now, but some time in the future, we could—” She stops talking when I straighten, the adorable shyness in her tone piquing my interest.
“Keep going, Hailey.”
“I thought it could be fun if you kept the rope…?”
I just blew my fucking load into the condom, but the picture Hailey’s words paint makes my cock twitch. God, she’s perfect.
“You want me to tie you up?”
She blushes harder, answering with a curt nod.
“The minute I take you home,” I promise. “We’ll start with your hands, and if you like it, there’s a lot more fun to be had with rope.”
She gives me a small smile when I peck her nose and adjust her clothes. Her feet hit the ground, and I step away to discard the condom and clean up with a wad of paper napkins.
By the time I’m done, Hailey stands by the tree where we started, her back flush with the rough bark.
It’s almost dark out now. The Pontiac’s headlights illuminate the near vicinity, reminding me of Jensen thrashing in the chair.
“Go on,” Hailey urges, holding the rope ends. “I can’t tie knots.” She doesn’t look as worried as she did fifteen minutes ago.
I secure her against the tree, then grab the Glock from the car, moving ten, fifteen, twenty feet. Twigs snap under my boots as I position myself in her sightline, aiming the gun forward, away from her, at the angle she described on our way here.
“I was looking at it from the side. Not into the barrel, not like I stood behind the shooter, but from the side. Does that make sense?”
Perfect sense.
I flip the safety, my finger sliding to the trigger and it’s like I’m reunited with the part of myself I had to bury when I arrived at Lakeside. The cold metal, the anticipation of the recoil… fuck it feels good. Familiar. Real.
“Watch the gun,” I tell Hailey. “We’re only doing this once.”
As soon as she looks at the Glock, I pull the trigger. The gunshot shatters the quiet, sending a flock of birds scattering into the sky.
The echo dies away, and it’s just the gun, my girl tied to the tree, and me, feeling more myself than I have in weeks.
And Hailey’s gone… sucked into the vortex of her past.
Her eyes grow wider, the sharp concentration of a moment ago morphing into fear. She’s staring at the smoking barrel without seeing it.
I hate that look on her with everything in me. Flipping the safety on, I tuck the gun away, stopping beside Hailey. I’m itching to drag her back from whatever hell she’s witnessing.
But I don’t.
This is important. Too important to interrupt. She’s not thrashing or trying to run. She’s not whimpering or crying. She’s silently shaking, her gaze fixed far beyond the here and now.
Time drags, seconds stretching like bubble gum until she’s back, gasping for air like she’s just surfaced from an underwater tunnel.
“It’s okay,” I say, untying the knot. “I’m here. You’re fine. What did you see?”
“Blood…” she manages, her voice quaking. She flings herself into my arms as soon as the rope falls away, word-vomiting the scene. “So much blood… everywhere. On his hands, soaking his white shirt, gray pants, black shoes. His face… it was on his face, his forehead like he wiped his bloody hand there, and—”
“A man?” I echo, my mind whirring through possibilities. Puzzle pieces turn face up, waiting to be popped into place. “What did he look like? Where was he? On the ground? Is he the one who got shot?”
“No, he’s not dead, he’s the one shooting. He’s the shooter.”
My heart starts pounding in my ears, the picture becoming all too clear.
“He had… he was…”
“Keep going, Hailey, what did he look like?” I steady her as she sways. “Did you see where you were?”
“No, everything was blurry; his face was blurry, but—” She swallows hard, eyes darting right like she’s chasing the memory as it slips away. “He wore a—”
“A what? A watch? A ring?”
“A long, brown coat. I… I couldn’t see the place clearly.” She shudders harder, trying to push away. Her brow furrows in frustration or confusion, maybe both. “There was a lot of space. Empty space. Bricks, or crumbling concrete walls. Not a house. Definitely not a house. Maybe a church?”
A warehouse.
The pieces click together with a clarity that chills me to the bone. My hands shake when I pull Hailey in closer, raining small kisses on her head.
She’s here. She’s safe. She’s mine.
Here.
Safe.
Mine.
“Shh, pretty girl. Let’s get you back. You’re freezing.”
She pulls away, eyes darting all over the place. “It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand.”
I do.
