Illicit Rendezvous by Lilith Tate

Author:Lilith Tate [Tate, Lilith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

eight

“Good morning Bambi. Did you have a nice nap?” the masked man asks.

His dark grumbly voice startles me awake from a dream he had been haunting. My skin cracks when I move and I remember this isn’t some crazy nightmare. I’m not in my bed.

Good morning? I turn my head from side to side, not exactly sure about what’s going on but I know it’s not fucking morning. How long was I out? Even more importantly, how long was his crazy ass watching me?

I can’t believe I fell asleep in this hole. It takes me a few moments until I’m able to focus, but when I do, I see him leaning nonchalantly against the dirt wall opposite me with one leg propped up behind him and his arms crossed. I can feel the weight of the man's stare behind the creepy black-and-white mask and it makes my skin crawl.

Could I still be sleeping? I close my eyes, maybe when they open, this will all have been a dream. Ghost Face won't be haunting me, and I'll wake up in my bed instead of being in a muddy, cold pit. But when I force my lids apart, I face my reality. I'm not dreaming, and the man is now kneeling in the sludge beside me.

“What's the matter? Are the accommodations not up to your standards?”

Ugh, of course I'm not dreaming. Not sure how else to respond so I shake my head. The strands that were wet before are now muddy and slightly stiff from drying in random places. I’d love to come back at him with a smart-ass comment about it not being the accommodations and more like the forced company, but I’m not ready to face my death quite yet. For now, I’ll stay quiet.

“Cat’s got your tongue, Bambi? Speak up, I can't hear you,” he roars as he lunges, getting rid of the few precious inches between us. My muscles jump but that’s all I have time for before he’s roughly grabbing me around the ankles. He drags me through the mud, forcing me on my back. I flail my arms, trying to find something to grab onto to use as an anchor.

“You are such an ungrateful little whore. I spent days digging this hole trying to make it perfect, and you won’t give me the common decency of answering a simple question.” His firm grip reignites the burning pinpricks in my ankle, causing a twinge of fire to shoot all the way up my thigh as he continues to spit nonsense at me.

Fuck! I was right! Ghost Face dug this damn hole to trap me.

“Ow, son of a bitch! Let go!” I shriek with all my might. My little nap revitalizes my tenaciousness. However, he doesn’t let my returned sass deter him. Not in the mood to relent, he squeezes tighter, seemingly to get pleasure from the grimace on my face. Then he stops, pulls my legs apart, spread eagle and kneels between them. I’m feeling more exposed than I ever had while getting a pap smear or giving birth.

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