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His face is blank as he stares at me. “What’re you going to be dressed up as?”
He smirks. “You’ll find out, eventually.”
My lungs seize.
Is he my masked man?
I shake my head, giving him my back and walking away. At the last minute, I glance at him over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes. “Did you put something on the car today?”
He lifts a brow. “Like what?”
My tongue rolls across my teeth, and I debate whether I should tell him. Whether I’m stepping into his trap, or if he’s genuinely confused.
“At school. There was a word written on the side of the car. Just wondering if you’re trying to toy with me or something.”
He looks annoyed. “Why the fuck would I do that? If I had a message to send you, I’ll say it to your face, Lake. You know that,” he clips.
He chuckles, ashing his joint before bringing it to his lips. Squinting through the smoke, he nods his head toward the door.
“Better get moving, baby Lake. You need get ready for the Halloween party.”
His cocky tone has my body jolting. Archer will never change.
He’ll always play these games with me.
And sadly, I’ll always play back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LAKYN
My tight black dress molds to my curves, the two red stripes around my thighs and arms making it look like a makeshift hockey shirt, though the deep V down the center shows off more cleavage than any of the guys are going to like tonight.
The thought has me smirking. I may be feeling a little devious. After everything they have put me through these last few weeks, maybe they deserve to suffer. Just a little bit.
Bending down, I zip up my leather boots just over my knee, the black fishnets underneath clinging to my naked thighs.
Turning around, I pick up my machete from the bed. It’s fake, but it’s not. It’s heavy, but the blade is blunt. Finally, my fingers wrap around the strap of the mask, and I place it over my straightened hair, lowering it over my face. Turning toward the mirror, I glance at myself, a smile beaming from behind it.
A part of me is excited, while the other part of me is nervous.
It’s been a year. A year since the night of Zane’s death, and how fucking coincidental the party is at the place he was buried.
It’s like we’ve come full circle.
And though I regret his death more than anything in my entire life, I wouldn’t change a thing about where life has led me.
Because I’m here, and I’m fucking proud of how strong I am and everything I’ve been through.
I don’t care about the people who stare at me and call me a killer. I don’t care about the accusations or the suspicions.
I’m fucking Lakyn Ashford, and after a year of this, I’m done with the bullshit.
Hopefully, it’s not just this damn Jason Voorhees costume that is giving me courage.
A knock on my door has me turning around, coming face to face with Posie. She’s dressed as a female Pennywise. The makeup she’s wearing is both creepy and hot. Her face is painted white, her lips red, which lead all the way to her eyes, sharpening them with black and red makeup. Her hair is tied up into two small buns on the top of her head, and her white and red costume is sexy and distressed, the white puffy sleeves cut to a corseted top. It poufs around the waist, some slits made in the fabric. She has on thigh-high socks that lead down to a pair of red stilettos.
She’s hot as hell.
