I watch it happen—Jamie’s body goes rigid. His shoulders tense. He freezes mid-step.
Good.
Fear looks beautiful on him.
He whips around, scanning the trees.
But he doesn’t see me.
He never sees me until I choose to be seen.
Jamie fumbles with his phone, then types something fast.
My buzz goes off.
Jamie:fuck you. leave me alone.
Behind the mask, I smile.
He’s adorable when he thinks he has power.
Lex (masked):Run, princess. If I catch you, I’m going to fuck you. And this time I won’t be gentle.
Jamie’s eyes widened.
Then—like the good little prey he is—he bolts.
He darts toward the woods behind the house party, sneakers digging into fallen leaves, breath echoing through the night.
I give him a five-second head start.
Then I go after him.
Branches slap against my arms as I run.
Adrenaline surges through me, tightening every muscle, every instinct razor-sharp as I follow the sound of his frantic breaths.
He’s fast.
But I’m faster.
He darts left—bad move—straight into the thicker part of the trees. He’s panting now, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, crop top riding up as he jumps over a fallen log.
I’m on him in seconds.
He glances back and sees me closing in—mask, black clothes, the silhouette he knows too well—and lets out a strangled sound.
He trips over a root.
I seize his hoodie, yank him back so hard he slams into my chest.
Jamie twists, pushes at me, shoves.
“Get fucking off me!”
I grip his wrists and spin him so his back hits a tree trunk with a thud.
He fights.
