Hunted Desires Ch 02

***Caleb***

The heavy iron gates of Millhaven Correctional Facility groaned open. The air was thick and heavy, like an invisible weight was sitting on my chest. I felt my skin prickle as a soft breeze swept through my hair, feeling like someone opened an oven door in front of me. My heart pounded against my ribs as I stepped further out into the sunlight, momentary blindness forcing me to shield my eyes. So this was it then, freedom? Five long years since I'd seen the outside world. Five years of brawling in the yard, sleeping with one eye open, and counting down the days. Good behavior my ass. I couldn't wait to get out of this Arizona shit hole.

Scanning the parking lot, half-expecting to see no one, my gaze locked onto a sleek black Audi idling by the curb. Leaning against the hood was Alex Rothschild, my childhood friend and the reason I'd spent the last five years inside, his face hidden behind designer sunglasses. He drove all this way to pick me up? Of course he did. I should have known.

Part of me, the part from before those five years ago, wanted to believe he was just being a friend. That he knew I'd paid a hell of a price for having his back, and he was here out of gratitude. But the more cynical part -- the part prison had nurtured -- knew better. There were strings attached, always were with Alex. I guess I should've been grateful. After all, only serving five years for murder -- sorry, _involuntary manslaughter_ thanks to his family's lawyers -- wasn't too bad.

I plastered on my best fake smile and gave him a wave, slinging the prison-issued duffel over my shoulder as I made my way across the near empty lot.

"Hey, stranger," Alex said, voice harder than I remembered. He'd changed, no longer the scrawny rich kid I'd known. "Ready to rejoin the real world?"

I grunted, tossing my bag in the back seat. "Define real." Alex pulled me into a quick embrace. The expensive fabric of his suit felt alien against my skin.

I returned the hug stiffly, still unsure as to what I owed this pleasure. "Thanks for coming," I managed, voice gruff.

Despite his new look, that glint in his eye was the same. That look that always spelled trouble. I wondered how he'd managed without me watching his back. He had a bad habit of starting fires he couldn't put out. Back then, he would always be at the center of all the drama. Whipping people into a frenzy then when the shit got real and people were ready to come to blows he would duck behind me and let me clean up his mess.

Alex stepped back, looking me over. "Damn, prison's been good to you. You could snap a man in half."

I rolled my shoulders, feeling the pull of muscles that hadn't existed five years ago. He was right, prison had changed me. Standing a few inches taller than six feet I was always bigger than most of the people my age, but now I had a lot more muscle mass to go with. "Not much else to do in there," I shrugged.

"Nice ride," I said, gesturing towards the car.

Alex's grin widened. "Only the best for your homecoming. Hop in, we have lots to discuss."

For a while, we drove in silence. I stared out at the passing landscape, drinking in the sights I'd been missing. Endless stretches of sunbaked earth and scrubby vegetation. Stark, unforgiving -- felt about right.

"So," I said, breaking the silence. "You gonna tell me what this is all about? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's good to see you, but I don't think you came all the way out here just to see my pretty face."

For several seconds Alex didn't respond. At first I thought maybe he didn't hear me, but as I opened my mouth he finally spoke. "Good to have you out, man. These last five years... well, at least my folks got your sentence reduced, right?"

I grunted. The subject of Alex's parents was touchy. Their connections had helped, sure. But they had only visited once, and when they did they made sure that I knew all the hoops they were jumping through. "Yeah. Thanks for that."

Alex nodded, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Least we could do. You did take the fall, after all." Yeah, no shit.

I bit back a retort. No point in starting shit now. "So," I said, changing the subject, "what made you come all the way out here to pick me up?"

Alex's fingers drummed on the steering wheel. I couldn't see his eyes behind those expensive shades, but I knew that look. He was thinking. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and immediately piss me off. "Patience, Caleb. First, let's get you a proper meal. I'm sure you're sick of prison slop."

My stomach growled audibly. While the crap they served us inside may have attributed to my chiseled frame, it did little to quench the need for fatty American style food. "You know what? A cheeseburger and milkshake sound like heaven right now."

He chuckled. "Simple man, simple pleasures. I know just the place." He pressed his foot on the accelerator as I stared out the window at the deserted wasteland. Other than a few trees scattered here and there, there was nothing but sand and shit for miles. We could have been going 200 MPH and it wouldn't have mattered, we were so far away from civilization.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a parking lot of a hole-in-the-wall diner. The neon sign flickered weakly, a few letters burnt out. Perfect.

Inside, the vinyl booths were cracked, and the air smelled of grease and coffee. Home sweet home. We slid into a booth, and I ordered without even looking at the menu. As I took my first bite of the cheeseburger, flavors exploding on my tongue after years of bland prison food, Alex leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"Alright, Caleb. Time we talk business."

I swallowed, washing it down with a swig of a chocolate milkshake. "Yeah, I figured this wasn't just a welcome home party. What's the deal?"

He sat back, studying me. "You know we took care of you inside, right? Made sure you were protected, got you that hotshot lawyer who pled your case down to manslaughter."

"Involuntary manslaughter," I corrected with a grin. He didn't seem to find the humor in my remark, but I didn't care. All I cared about right now was this deliciously fatty cheeseburger. After taking another bite I sensed he was waiting for a more serious answer. "Yeah, I know. And I'm grateful, really. But something tells me that wasn't out of the goodness of your heart."

"Smart man," Alex grinned, his eyes dark and soulless behind his shades. "You've got a debt to repay, Caleb. And I've got just the way for you to do it."

I felt a chill run up my spine, was he trying to ruin this meal for me? I'd known this was coming, but hearing it said out loud... "What kind of _debt_ are we talking about here?"

His grin widened, all teeth as he tossed his designer shades to the side. "Oh man, Caleb. You have no idea. This... this is gonna change everything."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Alex glanced around, the diner was practically deserted. But that didn't stop him from leaning in close. "What do you know about the dark web?"

I frowned, I hated where this was going. "Not much. Heard guys inside talking. Drugs, weapons, that kinda thing."

"That's just the start," Alex said, eyes gleaming. "There's a whole world out there, catering to the darkest desires of the rich and powerful. And I've found a way in."

A knot formed in my stomach that had nothing to do with the shake. "What you talking about?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes dancing with excitement. "It's called 'The Hunt.' High-stakes game, invitation only. We set up a controlled environment -- forest, abandoned town, whatever. Bring in 'prey' -- mostly willing participants, all vetted."

"Prey?" I echoed, not liking where this was going.

Alex nodded eagerly. "Yeah, mostly women. Young, hot. They get a head start, then the 'hunters' are released. Goal's simple -- catch your prey."

My jaw clenched. "And then what?" I asked. The milkshake ran out, and I suddenly felt sick.

Alex's grin turned manic. "Then the real fun begins. Hunters can do whatever they want -- within reason. We got rules, safewords, all that. But the thrill, Caleb... people pay insane money just to watch."

I stared at Alex, trying to square this with the kid I grew up with. "You're talking rape, Alex. Sexual assault. And who the hell is watching?"

He waved a hand. "Don't be dramatic. Everyone's willing, even if they don't know it yet. Hell, some come back for more. It's all about the thrill."

"What do you mean even if they don't know it yet?" None of this sounded like I was on the road to the straight and narrow, but then that was never in the cards for me anyway. Not since the day I met Alex fucking Rothschild.

"Look, you may not know this on the account of being locked up next to a bunch of guys for the last five years, but chicks have really fucked up fantasies." I eyeballed him unsure where this was going. "Some of them, the really fucked up ones, have a rape fantasy. Their husbands and boyfriends come to us for an... authentic experience. They pay double and the audience goes absolutely ape shit for it. But don't worry, the contract we get them to sign is iron clad. I had my parents' lawyers go over it three times."

I shook my head, disgusted. My brain still trying to process what he was saying. "Where do I fit in?"

Alex's eyes lit up. "I'm so glad you asked," he said with a smug look on his face. I didn't miss that look. "We need you as a hunter. You've got that whole ex-con vibe going on -- intimidating as hell. Our viewers will eat that shit up."

I laughed more out of nervousness than humor. "You want me to chase women for sport? After assault charges? You fuckin crazy?"

"Look, I get it sounds crazy, but hear me out," Alex pressed. "The money's ridiculous, Caleb. One night's work could set you up for years. And let's face it, your options aren't exactly overflowing right now, are they?

I fell silent. As much as I hated it, Alex had a point. Options were shit. Going back to scraping by made my skin crawl. Not to mention, if there was one thing I knew about Alex and his family it was that you only had the perception of free will. It was all an illusion.

I shook my head. "Dunno, Alex. Risky as hell. Fucked up, too. And what are these viewers? How's that work?"

Alex laughed. "Since when did you grow a conscience, huh? We crossed that line years ago, pal. Look at it this way -- we're providing a service. Helping people live out their darkest fantasies in a controlled environment. As for the viewers, that's my department. You just focus on your part. And ease up on the twenty questions, will ya?"

I snorted. "Right. Cops will love that explanation. She wanted it officer, really. She just didn't know it yet."

"We won't get caught," Alex said, confident. "Got it all figured out. Remote locations, NDAs, top security. Trust me, Caleb. This is our ticket."

I stared out the window, watching the harsh landscape. Part of me wanted to tell Alex I was just going to leave, go back to Millhaven. At least there, I knew who I was. But another part -- the growing part -- was intrigued. Excited, even.

"I'll think about it," I said finally.

Alex's grin was triumphant as he reached back over and grabbed those stupid sunglasses. "That's all I ask, man."

As we drove on, the diner fading behind us, I couldn't shake the feeling I was heading for something I couldn't control. Just like the fateful night five years ago, I was going to let Alex fucking Rothschild control my future.

****

"Run."

The word had barely left my lips before Jess bolted, crashing through the underbrush with a sudden, terrified burst of movement, like a startled deer. I couldn't help but grin. This was always my favorite part. I watched her stumble away into the darkness, her torn dress catching on branches, until she was no longer visible. My heart was pounding, blood coursing in my ears. I shouldn't have enjoyed that so much. But fuck, I did.

It had been almost a year since that car ride. Months of preparation, training, and sleepless nights wrestling with what remained of my conscience. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see faces of potential 'prey', hear their imagined pleas. But the further it went, the more loudly the promise of money and power spoke, drowning out the whispers of morality. Until finally, I made my choice. Now prowling through the forest for a third time, I knew I was hooked on the high.

I counted to twenty, letting her get ahead. It was part of the game, part of the excitement. Let them think they can get away with it, but the truth of the matter was they couldn't. Just like my life, it was all rigged from the start.

At twenty, I reached up and touched the small device nestled in my ear. "Target moving northeast," a voice, emotionless, spoke back to me. I smiled, tucking an elbow under to turn myself northeast. These rich bastards and their toys. Grunting, I shifted my course. Catching everything, the small camera on my shirt was broadcasting to who knows how many sick fucks who would pay for the POV experience. I thought about Jess as I went. That first capture. I was caught off guard by the intensity in her eyes. Most women in these hunts, they're scared, meek. Not Jess. She had fire. Fight in her, and I couldn't wait to break it down.

The forest around me came alive with tiny red lights, barely visible unless you knew what to look for. Cameras. Hundreds of them, hidden in the trees, tracking every movement. Poor Jess probably thought she was being clever, zigging and zagging through the woods. But to me, with this tech, she might as well have been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs.

Either way, she made my job almost too easy. These city folks, with their designer clothes and expensive perfumes, they were like fish out of water here. They had no idea how to move silently, how to cover their tracks, how to become one with the forest. Years of surviving in the harshest of environments, inside and outside prison walls, had taught me skills these pampered prey could never understand.

I set off at a leisurely pace, savoring the night air and the thrill of the hunt. The moon creating just enough light through the trees for me to see, without the need for night vision goggles. Perfect hunting conditions.

At a small clearing, I heard a muffled curse followed by a splash. Grinning, I quickened my pace slightly. The sound was from a muddy patch just ahead, obscured by a fallen log.

I cleared the log in one Olympic-like bound. Now this was a sport I'd medal in. My Olympic aspirations vanished, though, as I saw Jess wrestling in the mud. Her designer dress was covered in muck and she was tugging furiously, trying to pull her stilettos free of the sucking earth.

"Having some trouble there, princess?" I called out, my voice oozing with false solicitude.

Jess's head snapped up, her eyes wide with fear and. something else. Excitement? Anticipation? It was hard to tell in the dim light, but I couldn't wait to have another taste of her.

"Stay back!" she yelled, her voice trembling, as she stumbled backward on stockinged feet.

I tutted, shaking my head. "Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your savior? I could help you out of that mud, you know." I took a step closer, watching as she tensed like a cornered animal.

"I don't need your help," Jess spat, finally finding solid ground for her feet again. "Just leave me alone!"

I laughed, the sound low and menacing in the quiet forest. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, you seemed to enjoy our last... encounter."

A flush of heat crossed her face, visible even in the moonlight. Shame? Arousal? Both? "That was... that was different," she stammered, backing away slowly.

I matched her pace, keeping the distance between us. I could've closed it in an instant, we both knew that. But the chase was half the fun. "Was it? Or did you just get a taste of what you really want?"

She looked around, as if searching for a way to escape. I almost saw the wheels in her head, furiously working overtime as she weighed her options. "You're wrong," she said, her voice without conviction.

"Am I?" I took another step closer, greatly enjoying the way she twitched. "Then why are you still here, Jess? Why haven't you used that pretty little pendant to call for help?"

Her hand flew to her throat, her fingers closing around the teardrop necklace. For a second there, I actually thought she might just do it. That she might just end this wretched game here and now.

But then her hand fell away, and her eyes lit with a spark of defiance. "Because I don't need help in beating you at your own sick game," she hissed.

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. This one had spunk, I'll give her that. "Oh, sweetie. You have no idea what game we're actually playing."

With that, Jess spun and ran, crashing through the underbrush with renewed vigor. I let her go, counting slowly to ten before setting off in pursuit once more.

The chase led us deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser, the shadows longer. I could have caught her at any time, but where was the sport in that? Instead, I kept her just on the edge of panic, close enough to hear her ragged breathing, but never quite within reach.

I couldn't help but praise her determination as we ran. Most of them broke long before this point, falling down in tears or begging for mercy. But not Jess. She just pushed and kept fighting. I nearly regretted what came next. Almost.

A gust of wind picked up, and I caught a whiff of her perfume, some Chenille number that meant nothing to me, if I had to guess. The scent was coming from the direction of that damned clock tower. I shook my head, a wry smile on my lips. Why did they always gravitate towards that stupid thing? Maybe it was the false sense of security it provided, a landmark in the vast, dark forest. Or perhaps it was just human nature, seeking out the familiar when lost and afraid.

As the tower came into view, looming against the starry sky, I knew the game was entering its final phase. Jess was getting tired, the steps more jerked, the breathing more labored. She needed a rest from all the running, and I had the perfect idea of what would help for that.

I caught a glimpse of pale skin through the trees and picked up my pace. She was close now; the ragged breathing gave her away. As I closed in, I couldn't help but remember that sound in her voice earlier, not just the fear, but the desire, the way she said my name, the way she screamed it. Far from my first of these games I participated in since getting out, but it was shaping up to be my favorite.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I said in a low, teasing voice. A small gasp, followed by the rustling of leaves as she tried to hide. I made my approach slow, savoring this. This was the part I lived for: the anticipation, the power. In here, I wasn't just an ex-con paying off a debt; I was a predator, apex of the food chain.

As I rounded a large oak tree, I saw her. Jess was racing toward the base of the tower, her red hair a beacon in the moonlight. She was shaking, whether from fear or the chill night air, I couldn't tell. As I approached, I caught a glimpse of her slipping through a small doorway at its base. Clever girl, most people ran right past that.

I followed her, silent, not allowing my presence to draw her attention. The old wooden door was left half open; she hadn't even bothered stopping to close it behind her. She wasn't very good at this at all.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, I saw there was a spiral staircase that wound up the tower and escaped upward into darkness. Musty air hit my nostrils; it had probably been months since that door was opened before tonight. I started my climb, my every step carefully worked to minimize the noise. The air thickened with dust and the weight of time with every step I made. A faint scurrying noise, probably rats, echoed from somewhere in the shadows. Halfway up, I heard Jess's footsteps falter above me. Then, a sharp intake of breath.