She presses her lips together, trying not to react, but the faint shiver that runs through her body gives her away.
And that single tremor hardens every inch of my cock, making me want to carve out this entire room of people just to have her alone.
The night stretches, bodies dancing and laughing, but I don’t care. Every sip of alcohol just sharpens my obsession, every glance of Sammie fuels the fire until I’m ready to detonate.
By the time I step outside, cool night air biting my lungs, I’m past reason. The glass door gives me a perfect view of her silhouette in the living room, golden light glinting off her hair as she forces herself to laugh with friends. But her eyes keep drifting, searching, restless.
For me. Always for me.
My fingers flex at my sides, aching to tear her away from all of this, to pin her against the wall and make her admit what we both already know.
Instead, I reach for my phone one last time, and type slow, deliberate words:
By the end of tonight, you’ll be exactly where you belong. With me. No one else.
I send it. Watch her freeze when the vibration buzzes against her hip. Watch her slip the phone out and read.
She swallows hard, her hand trembling just enough that I know she feels it. My claim, my promise.
Her eyes lift, scanning the dark windows. They find me, just for a breath.
And I let her see me. Just long enough.
Then I vanish back into the shadows, smiling to myself, because it doesn’t matter what Wayne says.
This Halloween isn’t about masks, or memories, or parties.
It’s about Sammie.
And tonight, she’s mine.
Chapter Four
Sammie
The words on my phone screen blur as my pulse roars in my ears.You only dance with me.
I shove the phone into my pocket, but it’s too late. My body betrays me. Heat crawls up my neck, rushing into my cheeks, and I know anyone could look over and see the flush glowing on my face. My father. The boys. Him.
Especially him.
Because I know he’s watching.
The party swirls around me in a blur of color and sound. Thumping bass rattling the walls, shouts of laughter, clinking bottles, the squeak of sneakers on the wooden floors. People in masks and paint, costumes cobbled together half-heartedlyfrom the clearance bins. Everywhere I look, someone’s shouting, kissing, dancing too close.
But all I can feel is that text searing into me, branding me.
I force a shaky laugh when a girl from school bumps into me, her cup sloshing sticky cider across her sleeve. She giggles, wipes it away, and keeps moving. She doesn’t notice I’m trembling. She doesn’t know I’m not really here.
Because I don’t belong to this crowd.
I belong to the shadows. To him.
My chest tightens as I shift closer to the wall, the crowd pressing too near. It smells like sugar, sweat, and cheap perfume, but underneath it all I swear I can taste him. That sharp cologne, heavy and dark, clinging to the back of my throat.
My phone vibrates again.
Don’t hide from me.
