Page 64 of Lethal Weakness

The hand over my mouth eases, letting me breathe easier but staying in place, and the steel cable around my waist loosens slightly. Only then can I fully register the solid wall of muscle pressed against my back.

The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of my own frantic breathing.

This is my fault. I should have known that this shadowy figure wasn’t some guardian angel over me, and could actually do me significant harm.

Faster than lightning, my shoulders hit the wall with a crack, and the figure behind me is looming in front of me instead.

I thought the room was dark before, but now all I see is blackness towering above me.

The hand stays clamped over my mouth, concealing my whimpers of terror, as the dimensions of my mystery come into focus. It isn’t clear, just the oval cutout of his mask that exposes his skin around his eyes.

It’s too dark to see the color of his eyes, but this can’t be Jack. I would never be afraid of him.

Right now, I’m fucking terrified. My entire body is trembling against his still one.

Jack wouldn’t want me to be scared; I know it.

The soft material covering his nose drags the length of my jaw, and a shudder rolls over me.

I was wrong. This isn’t Jack. This isn’t Jack.

But my body ignites like it is. Heat pools in my belly as his hand skims up my side and I fight the feeling.

This is so fucking wrong.

The glove-covered hand disappears, and a bare one wraps around my throat in its place, making me gasp. I know he feels every labored breath being forced in and out of my lungs.

His hand inches even higher, holding my jaw taut. He knows that I’m too afraid to scream, or maybe he knows that I was up to no good and screaming would only give me away.

But as his pointer finger traces my trembling lips, I’m tempted to bite it. And as if he senses it, his finger pushes inside, tempting me by hooking my lower teeth.

My top teeth sink into his flesh without causing any real damage, and his head quirks in amusement.

I only know because his eye cutout shifts slightly in front of me. He leans in closer, enough that our mouths would nearly brush if it weren’t for his mask.

It covers everything but his eyes. I don’t know how he can breathe.

He doesn’t seem at all affected by the lack of light and oxygen in the room.

That’s because I am not a threat to him and whatever he is trying to do here. He is the threat.

His finger slips from between my lips, and shame fills me when the tip releases with a pop.

His mask-covered mouth rubs over mine, and the warmth of him spreads through me just before he spins me so fast my hands fly out and splat against the wall. I hardly stop in time from smacking my face.

Large hands roam down my body, and I struggle for breath against the musty wallpaper. When they linger around my ankles, I’m bracing for depravity, for him to force my feet apart so he can spread my legs farther.

But then those hands disappear, and there’s a flash of light in the doorway before all is black again.

I gasp for breath for what feels like several minutes before I’m brave enough to turn around and check my surroundings.

He’s gone. I can tell because the air is different in the room.

When I take a small, hesitant step away from the wall, my foot catches, tripping me into the door.

He knotted my shoelaces. Motherfuck.

I rip the bunny ears apart and duck out of the room with less care about whether someone sees me. In fact, I would like someone else in this giant mansion to know where to find my body if I come up missing.