Page 100 of Heartless Sinner

Stretched out on my bed, I fought off a yawn and pried my eyelids open. Damon Salvatore was on my laptop screen murdering someone.

Nearly two in the morning, and no masked psychos.

I kept replaying every terrifying detail Blair and my mom had told me. The Initiations had been completely different. That was the point.

Every Fawn went in blind with no idea what special version of hell the Sons had planned for her.

The door creaked open. I lost a breath.

Locking it would’ve been pointless since they’d break it down if necessary.

A tall man in a skeleton mask walked in.

Then another.

And another.

Until five filled my dorm.

Black-and-white skeleton masks, identical to the one Brooks had worn at the Tide Ball, hid their faces. If they were surprised to find me awake, they didn’t show it.

They formed a circle around me and stared through those hollow eyeholes like nightmares brought to life.

One Son pressed a black-gloved finger to the mouth of his mask. A silent warning not to do anything stupid. Like scream.

Another Son stepped forward. Even fully disguised, I knew those shoulders. I’d recently scraped my nails down them as I rode his cock.

Brooks.

He took two long strides toward me.

My caffeine buzz disappeared under a fresh shot of adrenaline. I scrambled for my MacBook to pause my show. He snatched it before I could and flung it across the room.

It slammed to the floor. Another Son brought his boot down hard on top of it. I cringed at the sickening crunch of the screen as it spiderwebbed.

Okay, rude as fuck and absolutely unnecessary.

I was going to figure out which one of these bastards owed me a new laptop and send them a bill.

They could kidnap and torture me all they wanted, but property destruction?

That was where I drew the line.

Brooks cut off my internal outrage by grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet in one brutal motion.

I forced myself to go limp instead of fighting back. Blair’s warning echoed through my head.

Conserve as much energy as you can.

Brooks forced me to face him. He cupped my jaw with one gloved hand, surprisingly gentle. Agonizingly gentle.

That scared me more than if he’d hurt me.

He brushed his knuckle over my cheek.

Everything in me screamed to pull away, but I leaned into him instead.

One last second of comfort before whatever hell came next.