Oh God.
It was still capturing everything.
I ducked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me with trembling fingers, the deadbolt sliding home. Leaning against the door, I took a steadying breath, trying not to breathe too deeply as it was a pretty disgusting bathroom, but I also needed air to fill my lungs.
Get it together, Mallory.
I pushed off the door and went to the grimy sink, which I was sure hadn’t seen a sponge and cleaner in about a decade or more. Gripping the porcelain rim, I stared at the cracked mirror, feeling my heart pound rapidly. I couldn’t get a hold of myself, my breathing quickened, and a painful tightness dug into mychest.Oh God, I’m having a panic attack.I wanted to curl up in the corner.
18
MADDOX
Hales came back pale as a ghost, my sweatshirt dwarfing her frame. I didn’t want to think about how it made me feel seeing her in something that was mine, and I didn’t have time to dwell on it, not when I saw her face.
It didn’t take a genius to see something was wrong. Was it what happened in the cellar? Or something worse? At Raven Night, the worst was always possible. I’d only lost sight of her for a few minutes, but here, with this crowd…it was like hours.
“What happened?” I asked, stepping into her space and cutting off her path before Mason or one of the guys could find her.
She shook her head too fast. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
Little liar.
And not a good one, either.
“Hales.” My voice came out lower, harder, stripped of patience. “What happened?”
She sighed, her hands rubbing her arms as if she were chilled despite wearing my hoodie and the fact that it was hot as hell in the church with all the bodies. “There was… a message. In thebathroom.” Her eyes glimpsed past me, darting to faces in the crowd. “It’s probably just someone being stupid. Trying to scare me. I’m sure it’s nothing?—”
I was already moving, shoving my way through the crowd, shouldering past bodies who didn’t move fast enough. Someone cursed, and I shot them a look that made them step back with their hands raised. The crowd parted, people recognizing the glower on my face. The hallway stretched ahead of me, the bathroom door still shut, a thin line of yellow light visible beneath it.
I kicked it open, wood banging against the interior wall, and stepped over the threshold, not giving a shit who might be inside. My eyes immediately ran over the room.
And there it was.
Written across the mirror in thick, blood-red lipstick, impossible to miss. The letters were large and smeared in places where whoever wrote the message had been rushed and pressed too hard.
I don’t share, so keep your place,
Your lips don’t belong on his face.
You crossed a line, you rolled the dice,
Next time you try, I won’t be nice.
—Mine
My jaw locked so hard it hurt, teeth grinding together with such force my temples throbbed. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Shakespeare?
I read the words again, burning them into my brain. This asshole came to my zone, threatened the girl I’d been kissing. That itself was a direct threat to me, and I didn’t take threatslightly. When I found out who this idiot was, I’d make him wish he’d never looked at Hales.
Glancing down, I spotted the lipstick tube abandoned in the sink, discarded evidence. I picked it up, the cheap plastic slick with product, and squeezed it in my fist. The tube cracked under the pressure of my hand, plastic splintering, red smearing across my palm in a sticky mess that looked too much like blood.
“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping the broken tube back into the sink and wiping my hand on my jeans without really seeing what I was doing. My mind whirled, trying to come up with names. Who would be bold enough or stupid enough to threaten her in my territory? Right under my nose? It was a slap in the face. This fucker wasn’t just taunting her.
He was toying with me now.
I turned and stormed back out into the hall, finding Hales where I’d left her. “We’re leaving,” I stated, not giving her time to argue or convince me this was fine. “Now.”
