Once I’ve winced in surprise, my next instinct is to spit it right back into his face. He must sense that too, because with agrowl he crushes his lips to mine, forcing me not to. His tongue invades my mouth instantly, forcing me to taste him, and urging me to swallow as he purrs and nips at my lips.
“Be good for me, swallow that like a good girl, and I’ll let you go,” he tells me, his thigh working harder between mine. “I have the keys to those cuffs. You can run out of here and pretend the only thing you feel right now is fear?—”
“I’m not scared,” I interrupt, despite knowing I shouldn’t and with his saliva still heavy on my tongue. It’s so hard not to chase his mouth. So fucking difficult not to want more with my heart thumping in my chest and his body hot against mine.
The stranger honest to godgrowlsagainst my mouth and captures my lower lip between his teeth. He bites down until he pulls a whimper from me, then lets go to lick over the spot. “Swallow,” he orders with his hands pressed to my hips again.
Something in his voice makes me do it without even thinking about refusing. He must see, because he steps back suddenly, no longer touching any part of me and leaving me panting in the darkness.
“You should consider lying to me,” he suggests with a chuckle from somewhere a few feet away. The jingle of keys catches my attention and I follow the sound, taking a step forward. Somehow, I end up stepping right into his arms. He grabs me with one and turns me around, deftly unlocking the cuffs.
“You shouldn’t want me to come back for more,” he growls in my ear, helping me put my hoodie back on. But once I do and I try to move away from him, I end up shoved into the same wall with his hand in my hair.
“What are you—” The flash of a camera blinds me, and his snicker makes my face hot with humiliated anger. “Did you just take a picture of me?!”
“Of course I did.” He lets go suddenly, and when I lunge for him, all I find is air. “You’re arrogant, Persy. It’s going to be your downfall if you don’t learn some humility really fast.”
“Not from you,” I sneer back, trying to ignore the fear that’s making me cold and my heart race. I don’t want him to know how scared I am. When I turn again, he catches my hood, pulling me back a few steps. But then he just laughs and lets go, causing me to stumble once more.
“You’re like a pissed-off cat. All claws and tiny hisses.” I hate the amusement in his voice. “Settle down, Scaredy Cat, before you hurt yourself.”
“Before I hurt you, you mean.” Embarrassment and anxiety fuel my rash words, but then he catches me again, and this time, the feeling of the point of the knife under my throat causes me to freeze like I’ve had cold water dumped over me.
“Settle down,”he murmurs again, not sounding like he means it. “This isn’t the place for you to start something you can’t finish. But since that’s what you want so badly…” He crushes his mouth to mine again, his kiss dominating and aggressive. For a few moments I fight him, my hands coming up to grip the tactical jacket he’s wearing, my fingers barely able to sink into the rough, thick canvas.
“I’ll give you what you want,” the stranger promises, jerking me back with his grip in my hoodie. He nips once more at my mouth, harder than he did earlier, then drops me so I gasp and stumble backward.
“And I’ll make you regret wanting it at all.”
“I’m not?—”
The cell door whines as it opens, and a light on the wall flickers, sputtering to life in its iron cage.
But there’s no one here to lie to. No one in the cell except me and the weak light.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I whisper anyway, as screams from somewhere else in the haunt meet my ears. “And I don’t want anything from you.” I force myself to say it, for myself if no one else, before I dart back down the hallway, too nervous to stay and needing to find a place to calm down before I meet back up with my friends.
13
The factI almostdon’twant Brynn and Madison to drag me to their place to spend the night makes me feel guilty. Too much of me would rather go home, curl up under my blankets, and relieve the ache between my thighs that I would never admit to—even under threat of torture and death. But I know they’re right, that I should stay here instead of driving back home to go to bed alone.
At least the strange man won’t bother me while I’m with them, since he doesn’t seem to want to confront me when I’m not alone.
“I’m telling you guys,” I sigh, not for the first time as I stretch out over Madison and Brynn while they sit on either end of their couch. “I have no idea what his name is. He posts anonymously on my blog. See?” I hold my phone up, though neither of them look over. They don’t need to. They’ve read and re-read what the man wrote, and his threats about scaring me.
“He’s a stalker,” Madison tells me flatly. They’re mid-game in a tenseOverwatchround, and while it isn’t my favorite game by any means, I can still appreciate their teamwork as they drag their team towards a win in ranked. Brynn is the better gamer of the two of them when it comes to carrying the team, and as Iwatch, I think to myself that Madison has really perfected the art of being a great support player for Brynn.
Unfortunately, I’m not competitive enough with video games to care much forOverwatch,orFortnite,orApex Legendslike they do. I’d rather curl up with a horror game, even if I’m not streaming, or at least something cozy with cute, 2D graphics and animal taming.
“Stalker implies he does more than show up at the haunts that I’ve…” I trail off as it hits me—the only way heknowswhere to show up is by reading my blog. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. He’s a level-one stalker. Like I don’t think he’s stalking me through the streets. And he’s definitely not standing outside your window.”
God, I hope he’s not standing outside their window.
“But I get it.”
“We should go to the cops this time.” Brynn wanted to drive me there straight from Park Scream, but I convinced them not to. Of course, that meant giving in to staying here instead of going home, without a change of clothes to sleep in or my toothbrush. Instead, I’m slung over the two of them, tired as hell and wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt Brynn had thrown my way. “They have to believe you when you tell them youdid notsign up for that.”
“Oh, yeah?” The idea of going to the cops has crossed my mind more than once, but I curl onto my side with my phone in hand as I scroll through my social media feed. “And what do I tell them this time? That, again, a guy in a mask at a haunt grabbed me—when I paid to be grabbed—then dragged me into a side room like they do? How do you think that’ll go over?”
