“Because you’re just like us,” Jason adds when I don’t answer. I bite my tongue to stop myself from telling them to fuck off, because I assume their patience is wearing thin with me right now, and I’d rather not die tonight if I can help it.
They murdered Harley.
They killed him in cold blood because he saw them kill someone else, and neither one of them brought it up to me. I decide that it’s probably for the best that Idon’t bring it up either, because what if they don’t actually know that I was here to see them do it?
Maybe they really do believe that I was stalking them.
“Don’t do that,” Ghost mutters, and my eyes shoot up to stare at his mask, confused, because I thought my being quiet was a positive.
“Do what?”
“Don’t hold back on our account. We like it when you’re feisty. Makes us hard,” Myers cuts in, and it’s all I can do not to kick him right in the damn balls.
The moon is higher in the sky now, making it easier for me to see them, but with their masks in the way, I can’t tell what they’re thinking. For all I know, all of this could be part of their process to lure me in before dragging me to a shallow grave.
“What do you want with me?” I question, my voice weak, and I inwardly wince for letting them see through my false bravado.
“You,Stalker. We want you,” Jason says, barely above a whisper, and I pray they can't see the obvious effect his words have on me. Desire courses through my body with every promised whisper of possession, unravelling my every twisted fantasy I've hidden beneath the surface.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask, forcing as much venom into my tone as possible, but it tastes fake, even to me. They must notice the tremor in my voice because it's Ghost who chuckles.
“We're your darkest sin, Little Harlequin, and we will shatter every last piece of you until you're begging for a taste of our salvation.” Uncontrollable want tugs at my resolve at the sound of his dark, rugged voice, and my knees weaken at the thought of them claiming me, taking me for themselves, and the guilt I felt earlier for wanting them, even after everything they did to Harley, starts to dissipate.
“We’re gonna play a little game, Bailey,” Myers says, as he steps in closer to Ghost. Closer to me.
“We're gonna give you ten seconds to run,” the Jason guy says, as he, too, moves in on me, brushing a shoulder with Ghost’s.
“If we catch you, we fuck you, and once we claim what's ours, there's not a damn God alive that will save you.” I gaze up at Ghost in disbelief, and the dread I felt earlier immediately resurfaces, settling in the pit of my stomach. He releases my arms, but my brain doesn’t fully catch up to my body as I try to process what the fuck is happening.
“Ten. Nine…” Jason slowly counts. My pulse starts to quicken, and my breathing becomes frantic as my eyes dart between each of the tall, masked figures before me.
“Tick Tock, Stalker.”
I don’t wait around to hear another word. Spinning on my heels, I bolt. I sprint as fast as I can toward thewarehouse like my life depends on it, because there’s still a strong possibility that it does.
They've made me feel every raw emotion in such a short amount of time that I wouldn't be surprised if they made my death feel like a fucking orgasm.
My lungs scream for me to stop, clawing for a full breath of air, but I push through the sharpness, too afraid to look behind me. I know better than to look back at the devil, especially when the devil comes in threes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROMAN
Iwatch as she runs deeper into the night, moving further and further away from us with every second that ticks by. No amount of distance will ever be enough to keep us from claiming her. There is no escape, not from us, but we give her a head start anyway. We watch as her pink hair, which was tied up in pigtails, comes loose with each stride, falling across her back in thick, tangled moonlit waves.
I spent years imagining what it would feel like to run my fingers through it, making every part of her mine in every way, and tonight is the closest I've ever come to it actually happening.
She thought I hadn’t noticed the way she meltedagainst my touch. The way her body answered mine, betraying everything her honey-colored eyes tried to deny, and that’s all the fuel I need to go through with this.
My Harlequin.
My stepsister.
The only woman I’d die for, and the reason I just might.
My soul was always built to burn at her feet, and I’d throw myself into her fire over and over again without a hint of hesitation if she asked me to. Of course, she knows none of this, and that’s how I intend to keep it.
The woman is a damn distraction.
