My lower lip wobbled against my will as the sting of rejection washed over me.
“Sara.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Sara, look at me.”
What he was saying made sense, so why the fuck did it hurt so badly? Why did it feel exactly like rejection? What was wrong with me?
“Sarafina,” he said, his tone softer and more lusty. “Be a good girl and look at me.” His tone was gentle but still commanding enough that I couldn’t help but look. “Please don’t cry.” He gripped the metal table while I batted my lashes, trying to keep the water in them from spilling out. “I need you to know something,” he lamented. “It’s taking everything in my power not to rip across this room and grab one of those party favors so I can fuck you against the wall until you’re screaming my name again.” My skin tingled, wishing he would do exactly that. “But I’m not going to do that because you’re the kind of girl, I could—” He swallowed hard and stopped himself. “I’m not going to fuck it up because we moved too fast before you were ready.” My heart stalled out as his words hung in the airlike dynamite, ready to blow up.Marry?Is that what he was going to say? I was the kind of girl he could marry? “I want to do this right.” He panted frantically, adding, “Have to do this right.”
“What about what I want?” I asked, emotion getting the better of me.
“We need time to figure this out.”
“I know what I want—I want you.” I declared, knowing I should try harder to play it cool, but I was so damn tired of pretending.
“Sara, I don’t want to screw this up.”
“This.” I pointed between us. “Is kinda screwing things up.” I headed for the door feeling—I didn’t even know. Everything. Nothing. Not enough.
“Sara, please don’t walk away.” He begged.
I crossed my arms, jiggling my leg, trying not to cry. “Move the table.” I just needed a breather, a second of space to think.
“Can we talk about this?” he pleaded.
“I can’t do this right now.” I admitted quietly as I stared towards the door, “Please, I just—I need a minute to think.” I added, unable to look at him. “I hear what you’re saying, I just—” Something panicked started clawing its way up my throat, the feeling of being trapped, out of control, I didn’t know. “Carter. I need to get out of this room. Right the fuck now.” I snapped, the music feeling too loud, my skin feeling too sticky, the air feeling too hot.
He reluctantly moved the table, and I headed down the hallway, feeling his presence a few paces behind me. Only I wasn’t watching where I was going, and suddenly, the floor dropped out from under me.
I was falling, flailing, screaming, and then my body barked with pain as I landed on a filmy, stained mattress. Something cold and wet splashed all over me as gargling and screeching creatures grabbed at me.
“Carter!” A dirty hand clamped over my mouth, and myhands were tied before I even realized what was happening, and suddenly, I was being hauled away with alarming speed.
Carter had already dropped through the ceiling when we locked eyes. The look in his expression was terrifying—it made me feel like something was actually wrong. Something more than just haunted house theatrics.
“Carter!” My voice cracked as I thrashed against the goblin, but Carter was already in motion, already closing the space between us, and nearly to me already. He was going to get to me, just like he had minutes earlier.
And then I saw it, as if in slow motion, a thick metal door started to roll shut, and Carter’s panicked expression disappeared as the hallway grew darker and darker, until finally, the door seemed to thunder as it slid into place, sealing off the hallway.
It was all happening so fast, hands all over me, body slamming into one wall after another as we rounded so many corners, and I was screaming, but suddenly I was being dropped into some sort of container.
A sickening feeling lurched through me as I scrambled up, but there was a heavy click as everything went dark and quiet.Trapped. And as I frantically pounded on the lid, I realized something awful.
I was not the only thing in this container.
Carter
There are moments in your life when you can think, plan, strategize. Moments when there is time for rational thought, and then there are moments when the reptilian brain takes over, when there is nothing but instinct, muscle memory, and survival.
Unlike the adrenaline that I’m so used to at work, the adrenaline that flooded me at the sound of Sara’s terrified scream was wholly different.
My body reacted before my brain did. I was already moving, launching into a sprint. How she’d gotten so far, so quickly, washorrifying, but there was no room for guilt, and no room for second guesses. There was only instinct and action.
I saw that fucking door as it started to roll across the hallway, and I pushed harder, ran faster. I was nearly to her, almost there, when it slammed shut. Separating us. I slammed straight into the door, yanking on it, but it didn’t open.
“Let me go!” Sara screamed from the other side, making my stomach bottom out.
“Sara!” I heaved against the door, over and over again, but it wouldn’t budge.
Frantically I fumbled at the seams, when Sara screamed in the distance, “Get off me!” My gaze snapped up and a new sort of fear drenched me.
