Of course, he’s also much more skilled at hiding things from other people.
“I remember this cat,” he says. “Damn. He’s old by now, isn’t he? He’s the stray that came that one Christmas.”
It’s times like this that I’m reminded just how long I’ve known him.
“Ah, yeah,” I say.
Someone comes over then, and Bonnie rises to her feet with her arms wide, bringing the person into a hug. I’m back to pretending I’m not dying to get home already—with or without Maddox.
Do you want to get out of here?Maddox texts me.
Thank fuck.
You read my mind.
I’d like to read other things on you, he says.
I smile at the screen, noting that he peeks at me when I do.I’ll call a car and meet you at home.
Not a chance, he counters.I’ll text James. He can take us.
I’m fine by myself. I have my pepper spray.
Please, Andi.
Something in me wants to argue. To tell him that I’m perfectly capable of catching a car on my own.
You don’t always have to face the big, scary world on your own, Maddox texts.
Maybe I think my demons will protect me.
I’m your demon, and I will.
I almost smile. I nudge him slightly with my elbow so he knows I hear him.Out front in five, then, I text back.
Put your spray in my jacket pocket, just in case.
I don’t bother telling anyone else that I’m leaving. I know Maddox has to make his rounds, and maybe he’ll tell Reed that I’m going with him because I’m tired. At least I had already put the bug in his ear that I wouldn’t stay more than a few hours.
James isn’t on the staircase when I make my way down. I spot a couple of the other guards on the bottom floor. Nevertheless, none notice me when I slip out the front door.
I slip on Maddox’s jacket when the chill hits my skin, hoping he doesn’t need it. His smell wafts over me, and I bring the long sleeves to my face, my eyes closing as I imagine all the things he might do to me later.
A body presses up behind me and wraps their arms around my waist. I smile and lean back, thinking it’s Maddox. “You’re trying to get us caught,” I say as I pull slightly away from him. “You know you can’t—”
My insides drop as I turn, and I realize it isn’t Maddox behind me.
Shit.
“Ah… Adam.” I can barely get his name out, let alone catch my breath. I back away and glance around us. “I thought you were told not to come here.”
Adam has a Michael Myers mask in his hand, a knife in the other.
“I just want to talk,” Adam says.
“I don’t,” I reply. “I don’t care what you have to say to me. I don’t want to hear it.”
There’s still a scar on his eyebrow where I whacked him with the microphone stand.
