Page 30 of Wallflower

Freshly fallen fronds and branches litter the ground, having been knocked free by the abrupt storm. I wonder… If I was fast enough, could I grab one and hit him with it? Would Chelsea snap back to reality and help me? Or would it be up to me to completely overpower Maximus?

Sam told me to behave and not get myself killed until he was back, but Brad’s words echo, an incessant distant ringing. They hit their mark, shaking the extremely thin foundation of trust I have in Sam.

Chelsea’s vacant vessel stumbles along on Maximus’s other side, uncaring of the path her unprotected feet follow. Making no conscious effort to avoid the sharper rocks at all. That alone cuts me the deepest. My strong-willed, sharp-tongued sister reduced to nothing, her bone-deep need to fight completely obliterated. If we managed an escape, could we find the police? Would they help? Or would it be better to disappear completely? We have no family to return to, and I’d much sooner stick my ass in an angry hornet’s nest than reach out to Sam for assistance if we were free.

I start to hold my arm rigidly, preventing it from brushing up against Maximus with every step. If he notices, he doesn’t say, or give any inclination that he cares.

Slowing my pace, I labour my breathing as the path underfoot curves, leading us uphill. Maximus halts our trek, unwinding his limb from mine. “Everything all right, doll?”

My face itches to contort in disgust at the implication that I’m nothing more than a plaything now. But I keep it bland—exhausted. “Yeah.” I force a wheeze, gripping my ribs like there’s a stitch in my side. “I just need a minute.”

Maximus nods, unlinking his arm from Chelsea’s and wrapping it around her back.

Resting my hands on my knees, I hunch over. The black hair that curtains around my face ignites something inside me. Having my choice stripped from me on something as benign as hair colour shouldn’t piss me off as much as it does. In fact, I should get used to the feeling because I’ve become nothing more than an object. A thing. A toy. Something to be rented in exchange for money. I’ll never have the free will of choice again.

Sights bounding over the ground, there’s nothing in the immediate area I can use as a weapon. Rising back up, I stretch my arms over my head, opening my airway as someone with a pain in their ribs would do.

“I need to pee!” I blurt. Maybe he will escort me off the trail, and I can get one-up on him there. Pick up a hefty branch while squatting, then clock him with it when I stand back up. Hopefully, he falls face first into my puddle of piss.

Maximus pulls his leering gaze from my sister, fingers curling tighter into her, pressing her body against his. “Can’t wait, doll face?”

I quickly shake my head, crossing my legs and slightly bouncing in place like I can barely hold it. I hope it looks like I’m two seconds away from pissing myself, not trying to fool him.

Maximus raises his hand to his mouth, fingers slipping in. A sharp whistle pierces the silence. Startled birds flock from the trees, their outrage chirping through the sky.

I look at him dumbfounded, wondering what the hell the point of that was.

But then I hear it.

Approaching footsteps crunch through the underbrush. I can’t discern where it’s coming from. The sound echoes around us, getting louder and louder with each passing second.

Three identically dressed men emerge from different directions, encircling us. Cloaked head to toe in black, each wearing a compression shirt, cargo pants, and tactical boots.

Realization steamrolls over me.

I never had a chance.

We’ve been surrounded by goons this entire time, and there’s no telling how many more linger within the darkened areas.

Max’s eyes flick to mine, a smile curving the corner of his mouth. The shock apparent on my face amuses him as he fights to smother a chuckle.

Prick.

“Please accompany her so she may relieve herself.” He speaks to no one directly, but two men step forward, moving toward me on silent feet. Clearly they have the supernaturalability to be near imperceptible while striding across the loose pebbles, so I surmise their stomping footfalls through the brush were meant to inject fear.

It worked.

I’m beyond unnerved, and quickly losing any hope of escape before reaching the final destination.

Two burly fucks with nothing but ill-will leaking off them lead my tiny sister into the shadows. Another stands off to the side, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His ashy blond hair flutters over his brow as the warm breeze rustles through the trees, brushing past us. His sea-green eyes seem to look everywhere but at me. Which makes him a perfect person to try and draw any sort of sympathy from.

Leaning over to Maximus, I whisper, “May I go too?”

Simultaneously shocked and pleased by my meek politeness, he nods. “Karson,” he directs, and the last remaining guard dog snaps his head to his master. “Take Miss Chelsea to the bushes.”

Karson jerks a rigid nod, stepping forward. He’s only slightly taller than I am, which makes him, and every other man, muchless intimidating than I assume Rose sees them. Maximus lifts his hand, guiding it to the right—the opposite direction of Rose.

Karson’s fingers clamp around my upper arm as he practically drags me into the long grass. Step after step he leads me into the darkness. I try to get a better look at him, but his eyes are honed on the area around us. I need to get him talking, but I’d have better luck trying to conjure words from a statue.