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I can barely breathe in his presence; he suffocates me without knowing it and delivers all the air I’ll ever need in the world in the same breath.
My heart settles after moments of staring out into the crowd, and I lift my knife, tapping it against the wall.
Where the hell is he?
Shoving off the wall, I turn to the side as I make my way through the crowd. It’s nearly impossible, and I knock shoulders against person after person, desperate to see someone, anyone, that I know.
Faces blur, masks, and face paint, so many costumes, I feel disoriented. I spin in a circle, bodies smashing into me from every direction. The air turns thick and heavy, stifling.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I shove my way to the stairwell, my fingers reaching for the railing. Pulling myself up, my feet pound against the stone stairs as I make my way up the spiral staircase.
I bypass a few levels under the crowd as it thins out. A table is set up with drinks, and I realize how thirsty I am. Letting out a gasp, I step toward the table and grab a cup, pouring myself some vodka and mixing it with a cherry Coke. I grab a cherry from a bowl in front of me, popping it into my cup and turning around, lifting my mask to the top of my head before taking a gulp.
And slamming directly into a body.
I gasp, the liquid sloshing over the rim of my cup, splashing down my chin and neck. I pull my drink away, letting out a squeak as the icy liquid seeps into my clothes and sticks to my skin.
“Shit,” I snap, glancing up, and my eyes widen as I realize who it is standing in front of me.
My masked man.
I shuffle back, the backs of my thighs brushing against the edge of the table. “Oh,” I whisper.
He cocks his head to the side, lifting his knife until it’s level with my waist. I can feel the hum vibrate from his chest, zipping through his arm and heating my chilled skin.
My breath catches in my throat, and I glance back and forth, wondering how anyone else at the party doesn’t realize a masked murderer is only feet from them.
“What’re you doing here?” I mumble.
I expected him, yet it’s still a shock to see him stand so freely in front of all these people.
He reaches forward, his gloved hand wrapping around mine. Then he’s leading me through the moderately crowded room. I take a sip of my drink before reaching out, setting it on one of the windowsills along the wall. My machete is clutched in my other hand, and I grip it tightly as his gloved fingers wrap around my waist, pulling me toward him.
I glance over his shoulder, anticipating Reign, or Archer, or anyone else I know. He brings his hand with the blade above my head, pressing it against the top of my mask. It slides forward, back over the front of my face, until it’s settled perfectly, and we watch each other. Mask to mask.
He grabs onto my wrist, pulling me to the other side of the room, where our bodies are half hidden in the shadows, covered by everyone else.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be wrapped up in this man who is so wrong, yet the moment I’m around him, it feels so damn right.
Leaning down, his mask brushes mine. “You want to run, Lakyn?”
I stiffen in his hold, and his fingers tighten around my waist. I don’t say a word, too afraid to lie to him, or tell him the truth.
“Why don’t you run now? Do you think I will chase you?” he murmurs, his body shifting against mine. I whimper, grinding against him slowly. “Bodies” by Drowning Pool blares through the speakers, people jumping up and down, the floor shaking below me, and all I can do is press my breasts against his chest. As always, I become intoxicated by his darkness.
His hands go to each side of my face, and he pulls me toward him. I gasp, biting my lip behind my mask as plastic slides against plastic. I can hear his heavy breaths in my ear. “Do you think you can hide from me behind your own mask, baby Lake?”
I shake my head. I put on a mask because I wanted to know if he could find me.
He did.
“You even got yourself a knife. Do you think you could cut me as deep as I’d cut you?”
My blood heats, and I press my thighs together as his hands drop from my neck, down my spine, and over my ass. He squeezes tight, and I let out a groan from deep in my throat.
