Chapter 10: Octavia - Pack of Mine

It’s been two weeks since I’ve been locked in here. The boys take shifts bringing me food and water, restocking my cigarettes and doing my laundry.

One of them went back to my apartment and grabbed a bunch of my clothes for me so I’m not wearing the same thing every day. Whenever they give me my clothes back, they’re always nicely folded and smell like crisp detergent. For a group of boys, they’re surprisingly hygienic, or one of them is a major fucking clean freak.

I lay in this dog bed at night and I think about the life I used to have.

When will I go back to that? Or better yet, will I ever?

My bar, my regulars. My car and my apartment. My freedom. I don’t know how long they plan to keep me here or if I’m ever going to leave.

I want to go home, but a piece of me aches to stay.

Skyler comes in here every night without fail. He thinks I’m asleep, but I really can’t sleep much at all. I stay still and listen to him stroke his cock off to me. The last few times, we’ve fucked, but we never talk after. He uses me like his own personal sex toy, then leaves with a malicious grin on his face. And somehow in my twisted brain, I fucking enjoy it.

A few nights ago, I was able to snatch a blade from Valentine’s thigh harness while he wasn’t looking, but when it came down to using it to try to escape, it was used against me.

Fuck, it was hot though. My thighs rub together as I think about it.

I’ve always been into rough sex, but Skyler’s the roughest I’ve ever had. He’s brutal and just takes what he wants. I don’t even know how to put it into words, it just makes me want him. He’s overly masculine and dominant and he has this deep desire for… me.

The morning after, Tristan came to the basement and woke me up by hosing the blood off the floor. He helped me move my bed out of the way and even tended to the bite on my thigh with an antibiotic ointment and some gauze.

We didn’t speak of where it came from or why there was a mess everywhere, he just cleaned the concrete and looked at me with guilt in his eyes, but I swear I saw a bulge at his crotch.

Since then, Skyler hasn’t hurt me as badly, so no one has come down to tend to my wounds. I just fall asleep all alone, almost missing his presence. I must have Stockholm syndrome or something.

The dynamic between the three of them is interesting, now that I think about it.

I ponder what Valentine said when I first got here – that he wasn’t in charge. With the way Tristan seems to submit so easily, I wouldn’t say he’s the leader either.

That leaves one person.

Skyler fucking Vale.

He’s unpredictable and hot headed. I can hear him yelling through the ceiling sometimes. He has no respect for boundaries, rules, or even other people’s desires. And considering the importance of me calling him “Daddy,” it only makes sense that he’s the king of the jungle.

It’s his way, or no way at all.

Valentine’s stoic demeanor, coupled with the fact he’s much older than the other boys, makes it seem more natural for him to lead them. He’s calm and collected, but in an unsettling way. Nothing seems to shake him.

Tristan is an obvious pushover. He follows the others around like a little puppy and does whatever they tell him to do. If he protests once, he’s scolded for it and shuts down without a fight.

I’ve been learning their schedule, keeping track of when they come down here, how long it takes between each visit, and how they get in and out.

The door looks to be made of pure iron with no visible handle on the inside. One of them is always standing in front of it when it opens, so I’ve never seen how it actually works. Sometimes at night, I go to touch it, but I can’t feel anything in the dark. The lights are controlled from somewhere outside of the basement, so I can’t turn anything on to take a look around either.

Right on schedule, Tristan walks in the door to bring me some dinner. Tonight is a juicy roasted chicken breast, rice flavored with butter and herbs, and fresh peas with a lemon wedge on the side.

Everything they have fed me so far has been seasoned and cooked well. Whoever the chef is between them does an incredible job.

As he sets the tray down next to the bed, he softly speaks.

“Octavia, can I ask you something?”

He squats down and looks at me with his bright blue eyes, a deep sadness within them. His face is so gentle and kind – I’m not sure how he ended up with these two.

I quickly cut off a piece of the chicken and shove a large bite from the fork in my mouth before answering him.

“Yes.”

He slowly reaches over to my face and I freeze with a mouthful of food, not knowing where this is going. His hand tucks some of my long hair behind my ears and the warmth of his fingertips brush across my cold skin.

I may be afraid, but not of Tristan.

He pulls his hand back with hesitancy and cracks open a bottle of water for me.

“Do you… think I’m a horrible person?”

I see a tear drip off his chin and he quickly wipes it away, turning his face away from mine. Aww.

I sit and ponder his question for a moment before replying to him.

Do I?

He hasn’t ever been directly rude to me. He’s been attentive to my needs and goes out of his way to make things more comfortable down here. But the fact that he’s conspiring with the other two makes him pretty untrustworthy in my eyes. You are who your brothers are, or whatever that saying is.

“Tristan, I don’t know you that well, but you’ve been very kind to me since we met.” Unsure of what else to do, I continue to eat my dinner and keep my distance.

He perches there for a moment, contemplating my words.

His hands run through his fluffy blonde hair and he slides out of the metal chair and takes a seat down on the ground, his head falling between his knees. This conversation is already uncomfortable and I really don’t know what the best course of action is here.

“Are you okay?”

I’m reluctant to ask because I don’t know if I desire to know him any better. He’s cute, thoughtful, the type of guy that my mother would be proud of if I brought him home, but I can’t help but feel he might be as unpredictable as his brothers are. Well, as unpredictable as one of them is.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my fully charged phone and a flat white key card before setting them on the ground between us.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally mumbles out.

He pushes both items towards me and lifts his head from between his legs. His blue eyes are filled with tears and his cheeks flushed red.

“Leave before Skyler comes in and I’ll try to keep them occupied. I’m so sorry…” His words trail off and he stands up to leave.

Okay, so he is unpredictable, but not in an aggressive way.

As he walks over to the metal door, he stands to the side to show me an area to place the key flat against the surface and the latch clicks open.

He eyes me one last time, almost with regret in his face, and softly closes the door behind him.

I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. Maybe I messed up, maybe I should’ve gone for him instead, maybe he’s the one. I wish he stumbled into my bar instead of Skyler.

I grab both items and stick them under the blanket quickly. What if this is a test, and I’ll be punished if I try to leave?

What if things go wrong and I end up getting hurt? I doubt I’ve even seen the worst of what they’ll do to me.

I chew on my food and think of the way he spoke, the regret in his eyes, the tenderness in his tone. He seemed genuine, actually a little trustworthy. If I want to get back to my life, I have no choice but to believe him.

This is my chance to leave, but do I risk it?

My fork scrapes the plate clean and I place it back on the tray on the floor, pushing it away from the bed. A sour feeling floats around with my dinner in my stomach. I rub my belly, contemplating if this is really my chance to escape and trying to keep the food down.

* * *

I sit with my thoughts as the time passes and my bedtime check-in approaches. It has to be a test, they’re messing with me. They’re trying to see if I’ll run or obey and stay. If I run, I’m going to be tortured.

My phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.

Add a novel to your reading list.

Browse Lokepub and choose your next book.

“I bought you some time. Good luck out there. I wish I had more time to get to know you better. – T.”

Fuck it. It’s literally now or never.

I grab the keycard and my phone from under the blanket, throw on my shoes and the warmest clothes I can find out of what they brought for me and walk over to the door.

My dinner rumbles around my stomach more and I force the unease back down my throat. I have to take this chance, I have to go back to my life. I can’t live in this basement forever.

Just before I tap the flat white key to the lock, I turn around and look at my home for the last two weeks. The rusty light, the old metal chairs, the blankets thrown on top of a dog bed in the corner. I watch memories of each one of them coming down here, cleaning me up and serving me food.

I might actually miss pieces of being here, but I have to leave.

This is it. I’m getting out.

The keycard clicks the latch open and the door comes slowly swinging open towards me. I slip through the gap and pull my hood over my head, immediately walking into a set of stairs.

Looking up, I see another door, but this one has a handle and looks fairly normal. No lock in sight.

Anxiously, I drag my shaking legs up the stairs, my heart thumping so loudly that I can hear it in the eerie silence. My feet tiptoe on the wood floor and I pray nothing creaks as I put my weight on it.

When I reach the top, I grab the gold handle and turn it as smoothly as I can, peeking just my eyes around the door to see what room I’m in. It appears to be a garage. Skyler’s red Mustang sits pretty on the polished concrete next to a few other random and slightly dirty vehicles.

Taking a deep breath to center myself, I debate burning Skyler’s precious car on the way out. I take a quick look around for a tank of gasoline. It would be fun, but it would also be a waste of time.

Tristan’s words replay in my head and I trust that he has a good enough plan to distract them, but I don’t know how long I have.

I sneak again and make my way towards the final door, which has a small square window on it. The dark forest waits for me, just steps away. The trees rustle in the wind, drawing me toward them as moonlight spills between their branches.

I slide the keycard under one of the run-down-looking cars, hoping no one will find it for some time. Just before I walk out the door, I open my phone and dial 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

My stomach drops to my feet.

Before I can answer the operator, I spot a corkboard on the back wall covered in pictures and strings, like a classic detective movie. My legs reluctantly carry me closer to it and I see newspaper clippings, old photos of men and women, even from generations ago and my eyes take it all in.

“Hello? Is everything all right?” The operator continues.

The photos have names next to them and strings link to different articles discussing sudden deaths, disappearances and local events. Some of the headlines speak of animal attacks, autopsies with organs missing, rumors of witchcraft in Silver Lake.

One of the photos catches my eye and I stand eye to eye with my dead parents. My phone drops out of my hand and to the floor as I put my fingers on the picture, stroking their faces.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cross, deceased at 54 and 56.”

A red string ties their photo to some of the witchcraft articles, one even speaking of an orphan that they left behind, but her whereabouts are unknown.

“What the fuck?” I mumble under my breath.

My mom used some herbs and stuff when I was a kid, but this? Aren’t witches from the 18th century or something? She just had an interesting way of worshipping God, anything else is blasphemous.

A warm tear slides down my skin. Fuck, I miss them more than anything in this world. I know I need to get out of here, for them and for me.

I pick my phone back up and whisper to the operator.

“I don’t know where I am. I’ve been held hostage here for two weeks and I’m fleeing into some woods. The men that live here killed someone and I think they plan to kill me too. Please send help.”

I hang up, tuck my phone into the jacket pocket and pray they can find my location from my cell tower.

Then with every cell in my body, I send a signal of distress and sprint like my life depends on it.

My quads burn as they pound into the ground over and over. The trees and their offspring branches whizz past me and I don’t look back once. Owls hoot in the treetops and birds fly away as my feet stomp into leaves and dirt flings up behind me.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m getting as far as I can away from that house.

The air is chilly and I can see my hot breath in front of my face as I pant. Sirens wail and grow farther and farther away the further I get. I can see the red and blue lights barely reflecting off the trees in front of me and the moonlight shines a path for me through the forest.

I’m doing it, I’m escaping, it’s almost over.

I think of my parents again, trying hard to remember all the times my mother stood in front of metal statues and said a bunch of gibberish. The plants she burned, the pots of water she would pray over, the language she spoke in that I didn’t understand… there’s no way. That’s not witchcraft, that’s just… I don’t know. Religion? And what does that have to do with Skyler anyway?

Why is a random man who walked into my bar one night looking into the death of my parents?

Attempting to catch my breath, I take a quick break and rest my hands on my knees. It feels like I ran for almost twenty minutes straight, and it’s been years since I’ve set foot in a gym.

Looking around me, all I see are more trees, more branches, and more leaves. No roads, no streetlights, no houses. Fuck.

My lungs burn and I cough. I could be running deeper into the woods and further away from any living soul, and I would have no idea. But I figure if I keep going straight, I’ll eventually find signs of civilization, even if it’s hours from now.

Oh, how I would kill for a bottle of water right now. My throat aches from the dry, cold air and I swallow whatever saliva is left in my mouth to try to soothe it.

My feet cramp as I start to run again in the same direction I’ve been going. I hope for a road, a gas station, something, literally anything with life at it.

My head starts to sting, my vision goes blurry and I begin to struggle to move. Invisible restraints begin to pull at my limbs, making my knees feel weak. I close my eyes and rub my temples, a splitting headache running across my skull, but the forest floor starts to spin.

Am I about to pass out?

I fall to the forest floor as my limbs can no longer bear the weight of my existence, shaking like jelly. Panic overthrows my mind and I’m convinced I’m dying of a heart attack or worse. Before I can figure out what’s actually happening, my vision turns completely black.

I’m quickly teleported into a world where I can see a forest, similar to this one, and three giant wolves standing over a body. I’m floating just above them, watching them tear and rip apart the flesh like they haven’t eaten in days.

One of them has the same leather harness that Val wears every day and the others are brown and light yellow. Their colors resemble the hair of Skyler and Tristan and then it hits me.

I’m watching a memory.

I try to move around, but I’m stuck in this floating third-person perspective. I watch the brown wolf bite off a piece of the body and place it in the leather harness.

My eyes squint and just as I’m getting an idea of what’s going on, I feel an intense falling sensation and wake up, vomiting all over the leaves below me. My arm wipes foam from the side of my mouth and I shake it off my skin onto the leaves. Did I just have a fucking seizure?

Patting my arms and legs to feel if I’m alive, I find that I’m back where I was, sitting on the forest floor. Dirt covers my clothes and bugs crawl under my body. The trees around me creak in the wind and I crawl, propping myself against a large one.

The body… I noticed a small mole on his wrist that Connor had. Skyler, Tristan and Valentine…

I just watched them devour my ex-boyfriend like a delicious dinner.

My head spins as I try to make sense of what just happened. I’ve never had a fucking seizure before, or even passed out. I try to take a few deep breaths, my lungs burning with each one and hear the sound of leaves crunching coming from behind me.

Jumping to my feet, I run faster than I ever have and continue my way through the trees. Everything hurts, my entire body begs me to stop, but I keep pushing.

I have to get home.

My phone buzzes in my front pocket and I don’t even slow down to check it. The light turns on and I squint to read it, but it’s a text from a number I already have saved.

“Did you think you could get away that easily, Kitten?”

Fuck. I’ve been caught.