I’m bringing her back with me, even if I have to throw her over my shoulder and carry her kicking and screaming the entire way.
Satisfied that there’s no apparent threat outside, she slips out the cracked door and locks it behind her. Her beautiful red hair is tied up in a ponytail and she’s wearing tight black yoga pants with a pale purple running top. The clothes are far too tight and too revealing for a sketchy part of town like this. It’s getting late in the day too, the low light of the sun barely illuminating the streets. This is not the time or place to go out. It’s dangerous and she’s vulnerable.
Good thing she’s got her very own Devil watching over her shoulder.
She begins jogging down the street at an even pace. She’s been running since she got here, at least, since I’ve found her. I imagine it’s to pass the time and rid herself of some of her anxious energy. But it’s driving me mad. She wears those tight fucking pants that hug her ass in the most obscene manner whileshe skitters off like a wounded animal. She’s just begging for a hungry predator to chase her down and take a bite.
I wait until she’s at the end of the block before exiting my car and closing my door quietly so as not to spook her. Sliding the glowing red mask down over my face, I begin to follow her.
At this point, the mask is largely unnecessary. It’s played its role and my secrets have almost all been bared. But what can I say, I’m fucking sentimental.
The streets are mostly empty at this time of day. There’s a few stragglers darting in and out of buildings with their heads down and their focus solely on their task. No one seems to notice or care that a man in a mask is stalking a woman in broad daylight. Fucking bystanders. Society has become so consumed with their desires they don’t even notice the evil that lurks around them in the real world. This is why my girl needs me, needs my protection—the world is a dark and dangerous place full of Devils in disguise.
My footsteps echo off the empty buildings as she drags us deeper into the old part of town. The buildings here are run-down—many boarded up completely. The sun is barely breaking through the rain clouds above, bathing everything in a gray gloom that reflects the cold and depressing setting she’s put us in. It’s currently not raining, but that won’t last long. Not in Washington. Not this time of year. I let her stay a block and a half ahead of me so she doesn’t hear me following. I don’t need her knowing I’m here, not yet, anyway. Within minutes, we’re surrounded by entirely empty ruins of what were once houses. Thick fluffy moss hangs on the dirty stone facades. Everything here is just bleak. Even in my memories, this place was drab and decrepit. It looks even worse now.
I turn a corner and swiftly come to a stop. Allison is standing in front of a small run-down building which once held apartments. I know because we both were stuck here once upona time. I can’t see her face, but I can sense the tears. She’s no doubt reliving those moments, the fear, the pain, the emptiness. She brings her left hand up and traces the palm with her right pointer finger. I mimic the movement, tracing the matching scar along my palm—the scar I made when we were kids, living here together, as a sign of my promise, my oath, to her.
I haven’t forgotten the promise that I made.
I take a step forward, not watching where I’m going. My foot hits a can, sending it skittering across the sidewalk. The noise of the metal breaks through the eerie silence of the gray evening, echoing off the empty stone walls around us. Her head whips backward, her vibrant green eyes finding mine. Spilled tears trail down her cheeks, their unshed counterparts lining her lash line. A few stray locks of hair have come loose and sweep across her face in the light breeze. She’s beautiful. My beautiful disaster.
“You!” she seethes as she stares at my glowing red mask. “Why the fuck are you always here? Always fucking watching? Always following me like some stalker?” Her chest heaves as she lets loose, the fiery girl I once knew finally breaking through her polished and pristine facade. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
I don’t answer her. I cock my head to the side and take a slow step forward. She instinctively takes one backward, maintaining the distance between us.
“I know it’s you, Gabriel!” She yells the name as if we both don’t know it’s a lie. She knows that’s not my name. And I know she knows. Still playing silly games. “Just fucking admit you stalked me and lied to me!”
I don’t answer her. I cock my head to the other side. I watch the fury in her eyes melt into fear.
I fucking love her fear.
“This isn’t funny, Gabriel.” She stumbles backward as she ascends the stairs up to the front door. I chuckle behind mymask. Silly, silly, girl thinking she can run from me. “I’m not kidding!” She shrieks as her fear peaks.
Her breathing is heavy now, her breasts rising and falling beneath her thin exercise top. I know where this is going, what she’s thinking, what she will do next. The thought and the sight of her stuck on the precipice between fury and fear has my cock thickening behind my jeans.
“What do you want from me?” she cries out as she reaches the top of the stairs and places her hand on the knob. Her body is tense, her muscles pulled taught and ready.
I take a step forward. Then another. Her breath hitches and I revel in the sound. Once I’m close enough to taste her fear, I lean in. The red lights of my mask glow in her blown out pupils. “Run, Princess.”
TWENTY-ONE
Allison
The mind is a fucked up place full of repressed bullshit. I’ve been running from my past, hoping that if I just stayed away, all my problems would eventually disappear. I was wrong—so very wrong.
I’ve spent most of my adult life running from my past, running from who I was. I thought that if I could just make the perfect life, with the perfect suburban house, and the perfect boring job, that all my demons would somehow disappear. I could be nice, normal, pleasant. I fooled myself into believingthat I wasn’t just another fucked up kid from the wrong side of town. And yet, here we are—back to the one place I never wanted to return to. I didn’t even realize I was driving here, to this town, the town I grew up in, until I was already taking the exit off the highway and pulling into the sad-looking main street. It’s even worse here than I remember. Time and distance doesn’t heal all wounds—whoever said that was a fucking liar. All time and distance did was make me believe I didn’t belong in this shithole, that I was better than this place and these people. But I was wrong, so very wrong. I moved to a nicer town, got a college degree, and still ended up married to an abusive asshole, just like my mother. I just live in a prettier house.
The red mask glows in the low light of the overcast sunset, like a sinister demon who came to collect what is owed to him. He takes another step up, inching closer to me, closing in. My hand lands on the doorknob behind me, testing slowly to see if it’s locked. It’s not. My eyes dart around, checking for any other route of escape, but I’ve cornered myself against the door. I feel like a caged animal—every muscle in my body tensing in preparation to bolt. It might be foolish to try to run from the Devil, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s running away from my problems.
“Run.” His voice is low and threatening.
I don’t wait for him to say more or explain. I punch in the door behind me, spin, and run.
Inside is a dark maze of cobwebs and shadows. This place has clearly been empty for years. Water is pooling around the windows, leaking from the corners and leaving bubbled trails of damage down the walls. Windows are broken and boarded. Spray paint covers most of the surfaces. What once was a crappy foster home for troubled kids seems to have become an empty shell full of ghostly pain. I try to block out the memories of fights and agonizing moments from my past, instead focusing on justgetting away.
“Run, run, pretty princess,” the Devil calls out from behind me, his large boot steps thundering through the emptiness of the abandoned home. “Don’t let your villain catch you.”
His laughter echoes off the wall, a sinister sound that sends a chill down my spine. How did he find me? How did he know I’d come here? No one knows I came from here, not even my husband. Some part of my mind still remembers the layout of this house as I bound down the hall toward the staircase hidden in the back of the house. I used to use the back staircase to sneak down and steal snacks late at night. That was, before my foster mom found out and put a lock on the outside of my door. After that, I had to rely on the kindness of a fellow kid, a boy my age, to sneak out.
