Magnate (Acquisition Series Book 2) (17 page)

“Did it see us?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

We stayed put until we were sure the drone was gone, and then took off again, running faster even though we were drained. Gavin’s limp grew worse. The terrain turned rocky again, the sides closing in as the slopes became more treacherous and the hollows petered out. Over stones and up steep hills, we climbed and descended, hopped streams and ducked under fallen trees.

Every muscle in my body was on fire, but I forced myself forward. I wouldn’t sit and wait for them. They would have to come get me.

The ravine ended in a wide open grassy plot. A hunting blind stood at one end of it, and some deer were munching in the field. As soon as we burst from the trees, they scattered, silently disappearing back into the woods. The sun had risen higher than I’d thought. We’d spent at least an hour in the ravine. What time was it? Nine, ten?

For the first time since we started running, I entertained the hope that we could make it. That we could get far enough away to where they’d never catch us. The stale, dead grass grew waist high as we picked up speed on the open terrain. We jetted across, the faded trees at the edge of the grass becoming an oasis in the desert. If we could just make it through the field and into the woods on the other side, we could outwit Cal, outwit them all. It was like turning a page. Gavin must have felt it too, his feet thundering unevenly on the dirt as we pushed ourselves as fast as we could.

Then we heard the buzz, the familiar whir of flight. The drone had come back.

“Down,” Gavin hissed.

We both dropped, lying in the grass and hoping the drone hadn’t seen us. I held my breath as the sound grew closer, the hiss of the helicopter blades like a hand at my throat, cutting off my air.

The drone passed overhead and I could breathe again. The whir lessened, and I was about to get up when the noise grew louder and louder until horror atrophied my senses. I turned my head to the side and it was hovering over us, sitting in place. They’d seen.

“Fuck. Run, Stella!” Gavin lunged from the ground and took off.

I pushed my aching muscles, the stiffness already setting in even though I’d only been still for a few moments. I dashed after him as the machine lazily followed.

We finally made the tree line.

Gavin crashed ahead. Limbs scratched my face like clawing fingers as I tried to keep up.

The machine whirred above us now, floating above the trees and keeping track. Gavin stopped so quickly in front of me that I slammed into his back.

“What?”

“We have to split up.” He ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair.

“No.” I peered up through the branches. I could feel the drone staring back.

“We have to. It can’t follow us both. It’s our only chance.”

“No. I can’t. I’ve got your back, remember?”

His eyes softened, and he ran a cool hand across my cheek. “I know you do. We’ll still be alive. Remember that, okay? I’ll see you again.”

“Here.” I shucked his gloves off and handed them back to him. “My hands are warm. You need them.”

He tried to refuse but I shoved them into his palms. “Please.”

“Fine.” He pulled them on and hugged me tightly before glancing sideways at the woods around us. “Left or right?”

It didn’t matter. “I’ll go left.”

“Okay.” He kissed my forehead, his lips like ice. “Go.”

He limped to the right, and I hopped the fallen tree trunk to my left, skittering across the leaves and rushing between the trees. I stood at the base of a gentle slope. Turning back, I caught a flash of Gavin’s white pants before he was lost in the browns and grays of the woods. The rumble of engines cut over the sound of the drone, some sort of off-road vehicles moving far faster than I could ever hope to. I balled my hands into fists and forced myself to move, fear and rage mixing to give me one final jolt of energy.

I kept going, slower now, the pain in my body, the lack of food, and the constant exertion killing what little physical ability I had left. The sun still rose, the minutes ticking off the clock. The whir of the drone never stopped. It had chosen to follow me instead of Gavin. I couldn’t do anything about it, just keep moving, keep striving.

When I reached the top of the slope, I stopped to catch my breath. I felt heavy, heavier than I’d ever felt in my life. My dress was drenched with sweat, and my legs were an ugly shade of red. The wind and cold had burned them. My face was tight, the skin stinging as my silent tears flowed down over them. The sun continued its climb, but I still had at least an hour before noon.

“Stella!” A man yelled out in a perfect mimic of Marlon Brando from “Streetcar,” followed by howls of laughter from others. It was distant, but not distant enough. The yawning pit in my stomach opened even wider, dragging me down.

I pushed my legs into motion, ignoring the wave of nausea and aching hurt. My feet were blistered, and my socks dug into the swollen skin. Even so, I hobbled away from my pursuers. The drone flew toward my right, toward Gavin. It had abandoned me. Why? Was I as good as caught?

I tripped halfway down the slope and tumbled into the wet leaves and over a rock before skidding to a stop against a tree. My leg was bleeding. Still, I picked myself back up and kept going.

More yells, this time “Gavin” and “Brianne” added in. They must not have found her yet. I smiled, my chapped lip splitting as I did so. Maybe she would make it.

The sound of an engine grew louder and then died. Voices. They were close.

I stumbled and wrapped my arms around the nearest tree, catching myself before falling again. I retrieved the knife from my pocket, ripping the tape off as I lurched forward. No matter what happened, I would fight. The consequences be damned.

A desperate yell met my ears and then was quickly cut off. Gavin. They had him. I wiped the back of my hand across my face, erasing the tears as I put one foot in front of the other.

I was almost to the bottom of the hill when I glimpsed movement in the trees ahead of me. I stopped, but the multiple voices at the ridge to my back had me moving again. I prayed a deer was in front of me, running from the hunters just like me. I would have laughed at the absurdity of hope, but I didn’t have the energy.

My steps lingered, my feet leaden and my limbs spent. I tripped over a root and caught myself, my hands on my knees as I raised my head and peered through the shadowy trees. More movement. A man strode right toward me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I rose, scurrying back the way I’d come. The man’s steps didn’t falter. He was large and not the least bit winded. He wore the same white mask as the others, the rest of him covered in camouflage.

Blood roared in my ears as I scrambled back up the slope, back toward the grasp of the others. In the open woods, the sun filtering down in orange rays, I was caged. The crackle of leaves and heavy footsteps behind me spurred me faster. I didn’t turn around, only pushed my legs harder. The steps picked up their pace, the thuds growing louder. A scream built in my throat. I turned to face him.

He was only yards away, his large arms swinging as he advanced, my destruction balled into the palms of his hands. I froze. There was nowhere to go, no one to save me. Caught. I held my knife at my side. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

He slowed when he was but steps away, then stopped and stared. His white mask obscured everything but his mouth and eyes. He took another step.

I held the blade out in front of me.

He smiled and shook his head calmly. “Stella.”

I peered into his eyes. I knew them. “Dylan?”

“I told you I’d take care of you.”

“Oh my god.” My knees buckled, and he rushed to me, taking me in his arms before I sank to the ground. The knife tumbled from my hand and landed in the leaves at my feet. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” He pulled me to his warm chest.

Hope exploded in my heart. “Oh my god.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. I had never felt so grateful in my life. I was blinded by it. “Thank you. Oh my god! It’s you.”

“It’s me. Calm down. Shh.” He moved his hands up and down my back as I clung to him.

“But how?”

“I may have gotten a head start.” He smirked and cocked his ear toward the sound of male voices along the ridge at my back.

I glanced behind me, but they were still out of sight. “We have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t share you. It’ll be nice to have an audience, though.”

I pulled my hands away from his neck as his words slithered around in my mind. “Audience?”

“For the big show.” His hands ventured lower and gripped my ass.

“Dylan.” I tried to back out of his grasp, but he squeezed me to him. “What—”

He crushed his mouth to mine, his tongue stabbing at my lips. Ice trickled down my spine.

I pushed as hard as I could. “Dylan, no!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He pushed his fingers between my ass cheeks, only the thin dress separating us.

Panic rose in me, twisting like a tornado, until I was biting and scratching wherever I could find purchase.

He threw me back and ran his fingers along a deep scratch in his neck. “You fucking bitch.”

I darted past him and took a few long strides down the slope. His thudding steps were at my back in moments.

“Gotcha!” Dylan tackled me to the ground. We slid through the rotting leaves and careened to the base of the hill.

We rolled a few more times until I landed on top of him and tried to scramble off, but he gripped my throat and slammed me onto the ground before climbing on top of me.

“No!” I fought, scratching at his wrists, his neck.

He batted my hands away and unzipped my jacket. Then his warm hands were on my thighs, hiking up my dress.

“Dylan, please stop. What are you doing?” I let go of his neck and pushed at his shoulders, as if that simple movement would snap him out of whatever dark daydream had taken hold in his breast.

“What I have to do.” His light brown eyes, the same ones I’d trusted, shown through the mask.

“No. You don’t.” My mind tumbled, the thoughts not connecting. I squirmed and tried to get out from beneath him. “Stop.”

“I do. This is what you need. What I need. Mom was right. I need to stop having a fucking schoolboy crush.” He squeezed my throat and reached between us with his other hand.

“Dylan, no. You aren’t one of them.” I could barely push the words past his palm at my neck.

“No, Stella. You aren’t one of
us
.” I felt his hard tip pushing against my thigh.

He gripped my breast so roughly it hurt, and a strangled scream burst from my lungs. I thrashed, fighting with all I had left, but he was too big, too strong. I didn’t have a chance even at full strength. He reared back and slapped me, dimming my vision. My body stilled for a moment at the force of the hit.

“That’s better.” He squeezed my throat as my eyes watered. “One fuck when we were kids?” He shook his head. “God, I was such a fucking pussy. I should have taken all of this a long time ago. Every time I stood over you as you slept. Every time your dad left the house and I jerked off as I watched you shower. I should have fucked you like you deserved. Like the little cunt you are. But I didn’t, because I was trying to be something I’m not.”

“Please don’t, Dylan. Please.” I cried, my tears flowing in a never-ending river as I hit and kicked at him to no avail.

He leaned closer, his eyes boring into mine. “But I’m going to make up for it now. I’m going to show you what a filthy whore you are. And I can’t wait until I get you back to the house so everyone can see how I treat cunts like you, especially Lucius. I want him to watch while I fuck you until you pass out from the pain.”

The rough stones dug into my back and the smell of peat and earth sank into my pores as he crushed me. “Please.”

“I like you this way.” He smirked down at me as his cock pressed closer to my entrance. My skin screamed as his palm tightened at my throat, his fingertips digging into the back of my neck. His hot mouth was at my collarbone, and I thought I might vomit.

“Stop!” I screamed.

And then his weight was gone.

Another masked man stood over him, a pistol in his hand, butt out. Dylan had gone completely limp next to me. I skittered back, kicking at the leaves as the man advanced, his steps sure and steady.

“Please, don’t.” My progress stopped as I backed into a tree trunk and I put out a shaking hand. “Please, I’m begging you. Please, I won’t survive. I can’t survive it.”

“Stella. It’s me.” He gripped my hand and pulled me up.

“Sin?” I couldn’t trust my senses anymore. I glanced at Dylan’s prone form and then quickly back to the man. I couldn’t trust anyone.

He lifted the mask. It was him.

I wanted his warmth, his strength. I couldn’t move.

He yanked the mask back down over his face.

“Are you going to do it?” I stared into his eyes, the tempestuous blue so familiar, the man behind them so strange.

His eyes narrowed, as if I’d hurt him. He stepped toward me, but I had nowhere to go. My stomach twisted in a knot as he glared down at me. Then he bent over and threw me over his shoulder.

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