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He bends down, lifting me under the arms and hauling me up. My chest heaves as I stand before him, and though this is the moment he always sneaks out of my room, I’m wondering what is supposed to happen now.
I have so many people outside of these walls waiting for me, yet a part of me would rather hide out here with my masked man.
He sighs, his hand coming forward, his fingers grazing across my neck, down to my collarbone. He stops once his fingers reach my breast, right over my heart.
“You can hide all the secrets in the world, but your heart refuses to hide. I see every beat, every drop of blood. I know who it beats for, and who it breaks for. And at the end of the day, only one person can hold it together.”
“And who is that?”
His head tilts, and he pulls his hand away. “That isn’t my secret to tell, baby Lake. That is yours.”
With that, he turns around, opening the door.
The lights and sounds of the party are instant, and my body locks up as the back of a suit stands in the doorway.
The sound of the doorway jolts the body, and my eyes widen when I see him slowly turning around, shock on his face.
Creed.
My masked man freezes in front of me, but all I can do is watch my best friend. His eyes fall to mine, and he stares at me a moment, confusion on his face, until his eyes narrow in realization at who stands in the closet with me.
His body stiffens, and he steps toward me.
“Lakyn?” His voice is quiet, lit with fury.
My masked man takes a step in front of me, blocking me from view.
I can peek at Creed over his shoulder, though, and he is filled with so much anger.
“Who the fuck are you?” he growls.
The masked man says nothing, unmoving.
Creed glances over him, his eyes locking on mine. His hand snaps out, underneath the masked man, as he grabs onto my bicep.
“Archer was right. You are fucking someone behind Reign’s back,” he growls, shaking his head in irritation. “I cannot wait to tell him about this shit.”
The masked man stiffens, his gloved hand going out, and he shoves Creed off me. Bending down, he swipes his knife off the ground, raising it between him and Creed.
“What the fuck are you going to do?” He laughs, and then slowly, realization hits him.
His eyes roll to mine, almost lazily. “You’re fucking the slasher? The murderer who killed your father?” His face grows red with rage. “You’re letting him stick his dick between your fucking thighs? Are you kidding me?” he roars.
The masked man lunges forward, driving each of them out of the room. People move out of the way, but it’s too crowded, and no one pays them much mind.
My heart pounds as I race after them, too afraid to say anything. Unsure what I should do. Terrified to step in.
“Fucking killer,” Creed spits, rage transforming his face.
The masked man pushes him forward slightly, and they walk along the wall. I keep up behind them, fear in my eyes, my limbs trembling in horror.
“I’m not the only killer in this building, though, am I? You committed your own murder, one a year ago today. Isn’t that right, Creed?” the masked man says, his hand waving between them, his knife in grip.
Creed’s eyes narrow, the skull on his face looking deadly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says slowly.
“I do,” the masked man growls, his voice altered by the machine. “You killed Zane, and you’re as much of a fucking murderer as I am. Just admit it.”
Creed’s body coils tight, and my eyes widen when his fist flies forward, hitting the masked man in the side of the head. He stumbles to the side, disoriented for a moment, then shakes his head clear.
