Page 4 of Only Be Mine

“Calm down,” I whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s fake. It’s all fake.”

But when I opened them, my hands were smeared with something dark and slick.

Oh no.

Against every instinct I had, I looked at the table.

A severed head rested on a silver platter, a bloody tongue beside it.

“Nope,” I whispered, wiping my hands on my jeans. “Absolutely not.”

My heart was thundering. I backed away slowly, too scared to run, too scared not to.

A cackling laugh split the air and I dove under the table.

The world narrowed to my own breathing. A group of girls walked past, giggling, and I reminded myself this was pretend.

Stupid.

Over-the-top.

Still trembling, I crawled out and found the red-lit path again, refusing to look anywhere except my feet. Three rooms later I finally spotted a light ahead.

The exit.

I sped up, nearly colliding with a guy walking in front of me.

“Sorry, sorry,” I muttered, willing myself not to panic. “Almost out. Almost…”

“RUUUMMMM!”

A blast of air hit the back of my neck.

I spun around in time to see a tall figure looming behind me, cloth mask stretched tight, chainsaw raised overhead.

I screamed and launched forward, slamming full-force into the guy in front of me. We tumbled through the open doorway and onto the floor.

“Oof.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, face buried in his chest, waiting for the chainsaw to carve me in half.

It didn’t.

Instead, strong hands slid up my arms, steady and grounding.

“Hey,” a voice said calmly. “You okay?”

I cracked one eye open.

He was… unfairly handsome.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, mortified, suddenly aware of his body beneath mine… and how perfectly we were lined up. Heat rushed to my face. “I’m so sorry.”

He grinned up at me, eyes warm. “Well, hello there.”

My stomach flipped.

“Are you okay?” he asked gentler now.