Psychos (Depraved Sinners 1) - Page 38

I’ve got nothing. I’m doomed to live out the remainder of what’s bound to be a short life, suffering at the hands of the DeAngelis brothers.

Devastation rests heavily on my shoulders and I sink to my knees, feeling them graze against the uneven stone beneath me. My head falls into my hands as the tears start filling my eyes and pouring down my cheeks. Heavy sobs pull from deep within my chest and they barely get a chance to shine before the door is thrown open and the three brothers pour into the room.

My head snaps up as fear rockets through me, my watery eyes blurring everything around me.

They rush me as I take in their black hoodies and terrifying masks that completely cover their faces. My piercing scream wails through the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing down the long hallway. Hands grab at me and I try to make out who is who, but the darkness is too harsh, too unforgiving, and they use it to their advantage. Their distinct features are concealed, leaving nothing but their haunting eyes that beg for me to try and fight them off.

I try to pull away but their fingers on my skin are like tight vices, impossible to budge as they tear me up from the ground. Scuffles are heard all around me and it happens so damn fast. I barely get my feet down before a black bag falls over my face and a hand jams into my back, pushing me toward the door.

My feet scramble to keep up with their long strides as I try to scream, but what’s the point? No one can hear me, and I’m sure as fuck that no one is coming. Fingers dig into my arms, and without warning, I’m lifted off the ground just enough that my toes drag along the stone as the brothers move up the stairs.

I’m released with a heavy thud, the only thing keeping me up is the hand shoved into my lower back. “WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?” I yell out, the panic in my tone clear as day.

The only response I get is a tightening of their fingers digging into my skin and a hard shove. The sound of their feet against the stone changes and suddenly a smooth, cool flooring hits the bottom of my feet. We must be in the space I declared as an old ballroom, assuming the boys are taking me in the same direction that Levi had taken me the night of the dinner party. Though I’ve quickly come to learn not to make any assumptions.

My heart races a million miles an hour, wondering what the fuck they plan on doing to me when I’m tugged violently to the left. I stumble into one of the boys who promptly pushes me back to my feet.

“Watch it,” a deep tone rumbles through the room, the sound bouncing off the walls and letting me know that we must be in a big empty space, probably very similar to the ballroom. Though I have no idea if the comment was directed at me or one of the brothers.

The sound quickly fades as I keep stumbling through their home, terrified of what they have planned for me tonight. I’m pulled to the left again and after a few short steps, I go flying to the right, the hands barely keeping me up.

Disorientation swirls through my head and I quickly realize that the boys don’t want me to know where I am in their home, but that’s more than alright with me. I have absolutely no intention of learning anything about this place.

We walk in circles, going up and down stairs, through carpeted rooms and onto cold tile before moving through to old wooden flooring. Some rooms are cooler than others while some feel as though a toasty fireplace has been cranking all night, but then finally, I’m pulled to a stop.

Nerves race through my body and I get the overwhelming need to make a break for it and run for my life. I was cool with walking. When I’m walking, that means that I still have time, but stopping … that could only mean one thing. My time is up.

A loud squealing breaks through the silence and my knees tremble. It sounds like some kind of ancient door, but before I can figure it out, a rush of cold air slams into me and I’m pushed through an opening.

A harsh breeze flows through the air and the familiar sound of branches and leaves rustling in the wind tells me that I’ve just been thrown out of a door.

My back straightens as just the tiniest bit of hope flutters through my body. Have they listened to me? Are they finally letting me go?

I’m pushed hard just as the hands on my arms release me and I go crashing down to the hard ground. My hands fly out and I catch myself, cutting up my palms in the process, but that’s the least of my worries.

Tags: Sheridan Anne Depraved Sinners Romance
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