A whimper threatens to slip from my lips.
He wraps his hand around my throat. “When you hear its whispers travel through the rustling leaves, you run as fast as you can. You hear me? Don’t look back.”
My clit pulses almost painfully as my grip slips on the axe. He takes it from my hands and props it against the stump. “Good girl,” he praises, straightening back up. His warm lips find my ear again, and his soft breath caresses my skin. “Now, run.”
I don’t hesitate. Every nerve ending in my body screams at me to flee.
So I do.
I run like my fucking life depends on it.
ELEVEN
CAMRYN
“I’m telling you,we shouldn’t be here,” Lily says, ever the worrier, as we look around the crowded living room. It was Brittany’s idea to drag us all to a party, and now we’re here, looking out of place in a stranger’s home.
“They’re all too drunk to pay us any attention,” Gwen says, pointing at a girl in a short skirt who walks past.
Brittany sways her hips in time to the beat on her way to the kitchen. We follow behind, trying our best to go unnoticed.
Cluttered countertops greet us, with countless half-empty bottles littering the room. Plastic cups roll across the floor as we gather around the island. Benny—dressed in a black hoodie—adjusts his backward cap, then rubs his hands together in anticipation while Aron pours us each a shot. He hands them out, winking at me with a playful gleam in his eye, and downs his in one go.
I mirror him, swallowing the too-sweet liquid, which burns a path down my throat.
“That’s disgusting,” Lily mutters, screwing her face up.
“Really? I thought it tasted of strawberries.” Brittany blows a strand of pink hair away from her lips and scans the room.
Outside, hollers ring out as the footballers take turns cannonballing into the infinity pool.
“Why are we here again?” I ask.
Gwen rolls her eyes, then slides the bottle toward her and pours a second shot. “Our delusional friend, Benny, thinks he stands a shot with Erica, the cheer captain, remember?”
The man in question accepts her shot with a playful smile. “Now that we have survived the séance, which, let’s face it, was freaky as fuck, and no crazy demon is coming after us, I have learned a thing or two about life.”
“Let’s hear it, then.” Gwen hands me a shot, and I eye the pink liquid.
Benny tosses his back, then discards the shot glass over his shoulder. “Well, life is short. We need to seize opportunities as they come our way and go after what we want.”
“Aren’t you the philosophical man all of a sudden?” Brittany teases, sliding his backward cap around.
He fixes it and hands her a shot glass. “It’s your turn. Don’t bow out on us.”
Aron’s fingers ghost my lower back, and I pretend I don’t notice as I lock eyes with none other than Dominic over by the staircase. A blonde girl hangs off his arm, pushing her tits against him while his eyes drill holes into my head.
Of course, he’s here. Where else would he be on a Friday night?
“Give me that.” I grab the bottle, pour my third shot, and swallow it down. I’ll need all the liquid courage I can get to face him after he’s glared daggers at me for days.
He still sleeps on my floor, though.
I level him with a glare of my own as I pour another shot.
Aron clears his throat, subtly taking the bottle from me and placing it back on the table. But he doesn’t stop me from taking my fourth shot.
“Wow,” Gwen says, her voice thick with amusement. “Our girl here is on a mission to get drunk.”
