Page 123 of Two Sides of Sin

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The abrupt pounding on the front door echoed through the quiet estate.

Sage flinched, the chain I’d looped around her neck rattling with a clatter as she tried to pull away. The sudden loss of her warm mouth was torture, leaving me pulsing and unsatisfied in the cold air. A frustrated groan ripped out of my chest, sounding like a low-frequency growl behind the plastic mask.

I reached down, my gloved fingers catching in her hair as I tightened my grip on the ends of the chain, anchoring her to me for one more desperate second.

“Don’t stop,” I growled, the vibration of the mask making my voice sound like a threat. “Ignore it.”

“No way!” she gasped, her eyes darting to the door as she reached up, her small fingers trembling as she slid the heavy links over her head to free herself. She scrambled back on her knees, a bright, excited smile breaking across her flushed face—a jarring contrast to the primal heat we’d just been drowning in.

“It could be trick-or-treaters! They could be our only ones tonight, Julian. We can’t leave the little kids waiting!”

I dropped my head back against the doorframe, letting out a heavy, suffering sigh. “I told you, there won’t be any kids out here, Sage,” I groaned, the words muffled by the mask. “It’s too far out for anyone to bother.”

She paused, her hand on the carpet as she looked down the hallway. “Then who could it be?”

The question hit me. I went still, my frustration cooling into a sudden, sharp caution. Who could be out here? The estate was a fortress, or so I’d told myself. I felt a flicker of that old, military intuition prickling at the back of my neck as we both stood up, walking to the door in a tense, mismatched silence.

“You are going to be the death of me,” I teased, but she just giggled, pushing herself up and smoothing down the white satin of her corset. She happily skipped out of the bedroom and down the hall, while I was left frantically adjusting my pants over a painfully hard, unsatisfied ache.

I followed her out, my heavy boots thudding against the hardwood. By the time I reached the foyer, Sage had pulled the heavy front door open, stepping out onto the porch.

“Hello?” she called out into the dark.

I stepped up behind her, my eyes instantly scanning the tree line. There were no kids. There were no cars in the driveway. The mountain was dead quiet.

“Who was it?”

“Nobody,” she frowned, looking down at the small patio table where we had left the massive bowl of lollies. “The bowl is still full. But… this was sitting on top of it.”

"She turned around, holding a vintage, aged heart locket."

I couldn’t even process.

Cain. He had bypassed the perimeter, somehow. He had walked right up to the front door while I was distracted in the bedroom. The suffocating dread I had felt in the car rushed back, wrapping around my throat like a physical hand.

“Just kids playing a trick, I guess,” Sage shrugged, oblivious to the predator lurking in the dark.

“Kids wandering around the mountain that didn’t take any of the lollies?” I said, sounding slightly on edge.

Before she could even lift her thumb to pry it open, I stepped forwards and snatched the locket straight out of her hand. The sudden movement made her blink, her fingers left empty in the air. I didn't want her looking inside. I wouldn't even know how to begin explaining the photo she'd find hidden behind that aged metal.

“Hey,” she protested softly, looking at her empty palm.

“I can’t see someone leaving a piece of jewellery as a trick, Sage,” I muttered, my fingers tightening over the cold vintage heart. I pushed the heavy steel door shut, instantly throwing the deadbolt, before turning back to face her. “But you don’t know who this belonged to, or what’s on it.”

Sage followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the marble island. She tilted her head, a playful, daring smirk spreading across her lips as she took in my rigid posture.

“Oh, lighten up, Mr. Executioner,” she teased, her voice dropping into a sultry, mocking lilt. “Is a little vintage necklace scaring the big, bad soldier?” she teased, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “What, do you think it’s cursed?”

She had no idea how much danger she was in, and I couldn’t tell her. If I panicked, she would panic. I needed to keep her distracted. I needed to keep her inside, and I needed to turn this terrifying night back into a game before she realised we were being watched and hunted.

I turned my head slowly, looking at her through the eyes of the skull mask.

I reached out and wrapped my black-gloved hand around the handle of the massive, steel chef’s knife resting in the butcher block on the counter. With a sharp, metallic shhhk, I pulled it free.

Sages darkened eyes widened for a split second, a genuine, thrilling spike of adrenaline flashing across her face before she forced her daring, flirty attitude back into place.