Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“The idea of having sex with a complete stranger is just not my cup of—”
“It’s more than just sex. I can’t explain it but—”
“It’s having sex with one of those rich fucks we just served raw oysters and champagne to.”
Fiora returned her attention to the sea. “It doesn’t feel like you’re having sex with a man. I know that sounds crazy, and even saying the words out loud is almost unbelievable to me, but something happened that night. He’s in a bone mask, he chases, you run, and when it finally happens… it’s animalistic. Primal. It was the first time I ever really felt alive. Blood was pumping through me, electricity even. I felt like a different person to be honest. I felt alive. I felt empowered. And I want to feel that way all the time. And I want you to feel that way too.”
The look in her eyes was real. She wanted it. She wanted to do it again.
“I don’t know, Fiora. I’m skeptical.”
“So was I. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I don’t sleep around, and I have no intention of changing that. But the way I saw it was that it was one night. One night to experience the unknown. One night to leave behind everything and everyone you ever knew, to feel free, to feel alive. Do you really want to spend the next forty years of your life working those docks, struggling to put food on your table and make ends meet, and then die without ever really living? Aren’t you tired of the same thing every single day? You’re an artist, Storee. You paint. That’s what you’re meant to do. Not clean guts all day.”
She had a point. I sighed. But painting for a living was only something fools dreamed of. Hell… I hardly had enough money to pay for the paint and brushes I used. Painting was a hobby. An expensive one.
But Fiora’s words did ring true when she spoke of feeling free and alive. I felt nothing but… hollow.
“I’m not asking you to sell your soul. I’m not asking you to change who you are. I’m asking you to do this one thing. One night. And see what happens. Take a life-changing risk.”
I nodded. “I’ll think about it.” Suddenly the practical, reasonable side of me kicked in. “Wait… what about birth control and all that? How do we know we aren’t going to get some rich man’s disease?”
She rolled her eyes. “Storee… they’re vetted. So are we. Which is why if you agree, you need to get to the clinic on Main Street. They know what to do.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. What if people find out? It’s a small town.”
“It’s Heathens Hollow,” she said. “We have The Vault. We have private sex parties. And we’ve had The Hunt for generations. No one judges you. In fact, you’re judged for not being part of the ritual. It’s tradition.”
She was right about that. Heathens Hollow was often known by people as the kinky vacation destination. The Vault was a club located in an old bank that had themed sex parties for the members and the invited. The Vault was also co-owned by Locke Hartwell, though it was a topic of conversation not allowed between us. It was almost as if I was supposed to pretend I didn’t know he owned it with a few other men.
I also knew that after the party at Olympus Manor tonight, many would end their evening fucking at The Vault.
Including Locke.
And The Hunt represented all that was Heathens Hollow. There wasn’t a soul on the island who wasn’t aware of what happened here after the Harvest Moon. We might not know exactly what happened in the forest when someone was caught or all that was entailed. But we knew it happened. We knew there were rules to the game. An etiquette to be followed.
Once you agreed, you put up the red light bulb on your porch. This was your one, and only one, time to consent. Once you turned the light on, there was no backing out. The hunt was on.
We sat in silence for a few moments, watching the waves crash against the shoreline, as I contemplated Fiora’s words. The idea of The Hunt was both terrifying and alluring. The thought of being chased and caught by a stranger ignited a primal instinct that stirred something deep inside me. But the idea of putting myself in such a dangerous position was also frightening.
I couldn’t believe I was even considering it, but the idea of feeling alive and free was tempting. Fiora was right—I was tired of the same thing every day. I wanted something more, something different. The Hunt could be that something.
“What about Locke?” I blurted out, surprising even myself.
I hadn’t meant to mention him, but his presence at the party tonight had been weighing heavily on my mind. I still felt his presence nearby, as crazy as that might sound.