Hunted

Naomi

Chapter 2

I never had much to hope for growing up. Everything was always just there for the taking. I was taught to expect the world at my fingertips, and I seized it with a feverish grip—and I wanted it—all of it. And I wanted him. My obsession with him was consuming, a dangerous fixation that both terrified and enthralled me. This time, though, I didn't care. I was marching straight toward my own ruin.

I swallow hard as I step into the wreckage of Vallory Bay's amusement park. It was once the town's pride, now just a crumbling mess. Some of the rides still sputter to life, but they barely work. The lights beam, purple, red, and blue, although it's flickering.

I clutch my chest, wishing I'd worn jeans instead of these shorts. The cold is sharper than I remembered, and November 30th feels colder than ever—maybe because it's been years since I was last here.

I don't miss the people here—there were barely any good memories. But a sick part of me still aches to see him again, to feel his touch once more.

I glance at my phone to double-check the location. I can't understand why they'd want me here, but my only focus is finding my mother. She's already so fragile; I can't bear to think of what she's going through now.

He'll regret it if he harms her.

Without warning, the flickering lights cut out completely. The amusement park plunges into darkness, transforming into a grim, silent graveyard.

I swallow hard, straining to make out anything in the pitch black. The moon offers no help tonight, and everything beyond a few feet is swallowed by the void.

My breath comes out in ragged gasps, my stomach sinking into a void.
Shit.

He's there, lurking just a few feet away. My heart feels like it's dropped into my shoes when I see the cold gleam of a butcher's knife in his hand.

Marcus stands there, unmistakable despite his black, tattered outfit—a loose-fitting, hooded jacket and pants that blend into the shadows.

I want to die.

I ask, "My mother... where is she?" My voice is a ghost of sound, and I despise how weak it sounds.

Marcus studies me for a long moment before he begins to walk toward me. Each step makes him loom larger, his six-foot-two frame becoming more intimidating. His muscular build has always dwarfed me, making me feel insignificant. As he advances, my heart pounds wildly, helpless and paralyzed.
I bite my lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

I remember that night he noticed me. The night he showed interest, and I craved it more than anything. Now, that same dark desire claws at me, and I want it again.

I clutch my hoodie tightly, taking a step back as my gaze locks onto the butcher's knife he's holding.
"Shh... don't make a sound," a voice hisses behind me, sending a jolt through my body.

I try to turn, but he has me pinned so tightly that I can barely move. Tears well up and spill down my face. "Let me go!" I squirm against his grip, my voice trembling.

"I've wanted to touch you like this for so long," the voice murmurs, inhaling my scent as if savoring it.
For long? Does he know me?

I look desperately at Marcus, hoping for rescue. But he just stands there, staring down at me with cold, indifferent eyes as though I'm a stranger.

"Why don't you excite me anymore?" Marcus whispers with amusement. "You're almost pathetic now. I promised my friends a real spectacle, not this disappointing mess. I promised them a good impression out of you."

Nausea churns in my gut as I remember just how naive I was. "I want my mother. Tell me where she is, Marcus."

He glances briefly at the butcher's knife before meeting my gaze. "She's not here," he says coldly.
Panic grips me as the man behind me seizes the opportunity. Before I can react, he hoists me onto his shoulder, my legs kicking futilely.

"Let me go!" I scream, tears streaming down my face.

The man's voice is disturbingly calm. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle. A little less cause she's whinny," He tosses a few crumpled bills to Marcus, smirking. "Or maybe that's just another lie," he says it directing to me.

I thrash, desperate to break free, but his hands clamp down on my ass, rough and possessive. Before I can react, I'm thrown onto something soft, my back hitting a worn-out mattress. It's only then I realize—I'm in a small, claustrophobic room.

"Too bad your man doesn't want to finish the job," he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "But then again, maybe you've always liked being tossed around, tied up like a little toy. Is that it? Does this get you off? It does to me."

The voice is now more clear in my head.

No... it can't be... Vaughn. My heart lurches. My head snaps up in terror. Vaughn isn't safe. Marcus let Vaughn take me.

I wipe my tears, crawling backward. "Vaughn, leave me alone." My voice is barely a whisper, trembling with fear, and I hate myself for it.

"No," he replies without hesitation, a twisted smile on his face. "See, I've got a thing for blondes. Especially dirty little virgins like you. Paid Marcus a good price for this. Would be a shame for him to let you slip away now, don't you think?"

"I'll scream if you don't let me go," I threaten, but the fear in my voice betrays me.

"And who's going to stop you?" His grin widens, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "I don't think you fully grasp where you are, darling." He gestures toward the door, and my stomach drops as I see Marcus standing there, a strange look on his face, holding a camera. "Your little boyfriend's ready to film. You're about to become a star, Naomi. Let me be your first customer."

"Alright, that's enough," another voice cuts in, shoving Marcus aside with a forceful push. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" His eyes narrow at Marcus before turning to Vaughn. "You think she's gonna give you the time of day if this video ever sees the light? Good luck with that."

He doesn't wait for a response, shoving Vaughn out of the way and pulling me to my feet. My body shakes violently, fear crawling through every inch of me. My eyes lock on Marcus, desperate for some explanation, but all I see is that slow, twisted grin spreading across his face. Without a word, he turns and leaves, abandoning me.

Vaughn grits his teeth, glaring at the guy beside me. "Don't bring her into this, Jeremy." His voice is low, venomous. Then his eyes land back on me, and he sneers. "Not that it matters. You're lucky I'm not into flat asses anyway."

He was going to record it—record Vaughn's assault on me. My legs buckle, and for a moment, I'm certain I'm going to pass out.

"M-my mom... I just want my mom back," I gasp, the words barely holding together.

Jeremy grabs my arm, pulling me upright. "Stand up straight. Your mother's not here. She never was."

His cold blue eyes meet mine, and the panic surges again. "What?" I stammer, pushing him away. "Where's my mother? Where is she?"

Jeremy drops my arm and casually shoves his hands into his pockets, like this is all some sick game. "You shouldn't be here, Naomi."

I swallow hard, the taste of fear thick in my throat. "How do you know my name?"

Jeremy's lips curl into a slow, unsettling smile, and in that moment, the air between us shifts. My heart pounds, and the brief relief I felt around him vanishes.

"Tell me where my mother is!" My voice breaks with desperation.

His smile never falters. "Believe me, if I knew, I'd tell you. But you're in the wrong place, and it's time for you to leave."