Lost -RH- Savage Psychos of Wonderland

(Lost Cruel Boys of Wonderland-old title)New title-Lost Savage Psychos of Wonderland © 2022 Stacey Marriott All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

1

Pills

“You sneaky little snake—” The room spins a little as I take more of the pills I was given. Not sure what these ones in particular do, but if they take me away from here—far away from here—I don’t care. “—Talking me into wearing this ugly blue dress.” Really, it’s not that ugly, but the point is, it isn’t me. Not to mention my sister always gets her way.

“What did you take?” Maddy asks, skillfully skipping the subject. Her name is Mathilda, but I’ve always called her Maddy. “Ha, like I know.” There’s not much I won’t try—once.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going.” Some jerk face, ah, a really attractive jerk face with red hair and blue eyes, yells at me. He has a right; I’m stumbling all over the place, tripping over my feet. Music blasts and lights are flashing in this warehouse that has been turned into a club. The thumping of the bass coming from the speakers vibrates the floor beneath my feet.

The jerky redhead lets me push past him. Swaying my head, I desperately try to get my vision to focus. Brightly lit-up red letters blur before coming together reading -Exit-. I make my way toward the sign. Need fresh air, that’s all, I just need to breathe.

The sea of bodies doesn’t move without effort, but after stumbling all over their feet, they part, allowing me through. Slamming into the thick metal bar, I push my way out into… an alley.

Okay, I could just be high as a kite right now—you know what, it’s probably that—but this club was in the middle of nowhere. I’m talking gravel lot that stretches on for miles. Oh, and when you make it away from the gravel, it’s dirt roads and cornfields.

This alley has shops on the other side, across from me. All of them have up -sorry we’re closed- signs, in their windows. Scratching my head in confusion, I stare at the rusty green dumpster that has—Off with Their Heads—spray painted on it. Strange. I’m used to the normal graffiti—you know, like cock sucker or something.

“Glad you could make it. You were almost late.” A boy about my age says. Right, you don’t know my age. I’m celebrating my eighteenth birthday tonight. He’s very good-looking despite his blood-red colored eyes. I don’t mean bloodshot. No, his eye color is red. He straightens out his red leather jacket over his muscular shoulders. Running a hand through his white hair that’s short on the sides and long on top before reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone. “Name’s Ryder, but people around here call me Rabbit.”

His face is handsome, the kind that makes it hard to look at him. Every one of his features is chiseled and seems unreal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful to look at as him. That goes for Hollywood too. He’s staring at me as I stare at him. My eyes travel down to his gray form-fitting jeans and combat boots. That’s when I realize I’m being rude. “Alice.” I smile, but his face remains cold. His eyes are still searching me for something that isn’t there.

“Yep.” He starts walking while I stand and watch him go. “You’re coming with me.” Not are you coming with me? No, mister cranky Rabbit is a demanding asshole. See, the problem is, I try to follow him, but it’s like my feet are glued to the ground.

Thrashing around a few times, I try to free myself, but it’s no use. I let out a huff before falling. Only I don’t fall. Bossy-boots catches me and tosses me like a rag doll over his shoulder. “God, Alice, how many pills did you take tonight?” My head thumps against his back, but I grip his waist to help stop it. He has to be around 6’4, which makes me feel far from the ground and nauseous.

“Stupid Tweet. I told him to only give you one.” He says under his breath. Tweet? How does he know how many I took? I never answered. “Who did you take the pills from?” Oh, now that’s a question. Suddenly, I feel a giggle working up my throat.

“Oh, now that’s a question,” I repeat out loud, laughing all the while. “I’m already over this shit. The fuck I end up running an errand for Hearty Big Red, anyway?” His tone kills my laughter.

There’s no other sound besides his boots crunching over the loose gravel. He seems like a psychopath, and I don’t really want to die today. Speaking of, I might have already screwed that up. What the hell’s wrong with me? I let a stranger whisk me away without even putting up a fight. “Duh. I know why Alice, because you were like, oh, handsome stranger, forget all your senses.”

Ryder chuckles and I realize I’m talking to myself out loud. Then the hiccups start. Boy, are those things annoying. Ryder moves so fast that it makes my brain curious. Right until the moment he’s in my face screaming, “Ah!”

My heart leaps out of my chest and I find myself frightened.

With a loud crack, my butt meets the rocks beneath me. “Ouch.” I groan. Quickly, I scramble to stand up. Unfortunately, there’s no finding my footing. “Oh, chill, I was trying to help you get rid of your Cup Bumps.”

Okay, is he fucking with me?

“Cup Bumps?” My mouth is open with my upper lip pulling at the left corner.

“March taught me how to get rid of those. He also told me what the medical name is for those, and they’re called Cup Bumps.” He leans forward, places his hand under my chin, and shuts my mouth. They’re called hiccups. It’s a little hard to argue when your mouth is forced closed. But I can scowl. Pretty sure I have the best resting bitch face, too. At least Maddy says I do.

“Apparently you associate with a liar,” I tell him as soon as he moves his hand. “For the love of fuck, where’s our ride?” Ryder shakes his head, tapping at the time on his phone. Meanwhile, I’m still on the ground. Ole Rabbitt Head isn’t going to help me up either. He’s just standing in front of me, arms crossed over his chest, looking out into the distance. “Don’t worry about me down here.” I scoff.

“I’m not.” He says matter-of-factly.

Wow, asshole.

“Why on earth would I be worried about you, anyway?” Ryder the fucking rabbit says, rocking on his heels.

“You’re rude,” is how I respond, getting up on my feet. No thanks to him.

“Okay.” He says, his red eyes framed with his white lashes, staring into mine.

“Oh, thank the gods, I was beginning to think he forgot about us.” Squinting my eyes, I try to see whatever it is that Ryder is seeing. If you guessed—it didn’t help—then congratulations, you guessed right. All I see are shops and a very empty road. Oddly, I swear I can see through the buildings across the street from us. I’m not sure when we exited the alley, probably because I was being manhandled by the white-haired rabbit. But the more I focus, I can see cornfields swaying in the wind through these buildings.

I must be super fucking high.