Page 33 of Make Her Scream

“Enough,” Cain says. “Now she runs.”

I let out a sob. They’re deliberately bringing me close and then stopping, aware that when I do eventually reach my release, it’ll blow my mind.

Whoever was inside me steps back and pulls my dress down over my backside and thighs. A hand helps me straighten, and then someone whips off my blindfold.

“Run,” a deep voice, which I think belongs to Cain, growls against my ear.

I don’t look back but take off across the platform of the bumper cars. I’m no longer wearing any panties, and my pussy is wet and swollen between my legs. My nipples are like bullets. I feel desperate and horny, and I’m almost tempted to stop running just so I can push my hand beneath my dress and bring myself to my climax, but I don’t.

The anticipation of what will come next is too sweet.

22

ROMAN

We are close on Ophelia’s heels, but she suddenly pivots and runs in a new direction. I chase her, faster than the other two, but then I slow and come to a stop. My heart begins to beat too fast. She’s running toward the funhouse, and suddenly everything that happened to her in there crowds my mind.

We don’t even know the full extent because we haven’t discussed it in detail. One thing I do know, however, is that everything that went down within the funhouse is my fault. Why is she going back? I would have imagined it’s the last place she wants to be.

Cain thunders past me, as if he’s not noticed me stopping, but Malachi slows down and pats me on the shoulder.

“Come on, Rome. Maybe this is what you need.” He throws me a wink and grabs my robe to tug me with him.

I go along with it, but I’m still not sure. A moment ago, when we were on the bumper cars with her, I began to feel a little bit better about things. Now I’m not convinced this was a good idea at all. Mal is out in front again, and I’m the last. I look around, paranoia creeping in, but it’s only us and the empty rides.

As Ophelia disappears into that great yawning mouth of the clown and into the house itself, something inside me snaps. She’s doing this on purpose.

Pumping my legs to catch up with the other two, I push past Cain and Mal to be the first of us to reach the funhouse. My heart smashes against the inside of my ribcage, and my breathing is ragged.

“Let’s split up.” Cain gestures to a direction for each of us to take.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head.

“They’re dead, Roman.”

“I know they’re dead, Cain, I’m not fucking stupid. What if some kids come in—maybe teenagers looking for some fun? What if there’s some other weirdo who lives around here? We don’t even know who owns this land. They might have known everything about the brothers and what they did and still let them rent it. It’s not fucking safe. We should never have come back.”

Malachi grabs me by my upper arms and looks me in the eyes. “Dude, you’re spiraling. It’s okay, Roman. Just breathe.”

Cain speaks up. “We’ve got guns this time. We’re prepared. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

I press my lips together. “Even so.” I approach the control box and search the console looking for something. I find it and hit the switch. Immediately, the fake screaming ceases, though everything else in the funhouse is still working.

“Now we can hear someone else coming,” I tell the others.

They nod their agreement, and, together, we slip inside the funhouse. We head deeper, following the same route we did before.

At that exact moment, Ophelia comes running around a corner and skitters to a halt. Her eyes widen and she realizes her mistake instantly. She must have gotten lost and turned around on herself. I shake my head at her once and then give chase. How can I feel so wound up, angry, and scared, but, at the same time, so turned on?

I catch up to her in less than thirty seconds and haul her into my arms. She gives a cry of outrage as I throw her over my shoulder, fireman style, and sweep my hands up her dress. The material lifts and exposes her ass. I take advantage of that as I spank her.

I give her ten slaps, hard enough to turn her skin pink, but never hard enough to do any real harm. I’m pissed at her for coming in here, but I would never hurt her. Not the way I like to hurt myself.

“Roman, what are you doing? Put me down.” Her struggles are almost comical. She couldn’t get free of me no matter how hard she tried. She rains blows down on my back, but her small fists can’t cause me any real pain.

Cain and Mal are beside us now, and Cain merely shrugs when she raises merry hell.

“Do something,” she demands of him.