Page 35 of Hollow Forest

“Stay right here,” he ordered after tucking me carefully into the corner of the brand-new sectional.

“I’m not an invalid,” I protested.

His eyes narrowed behind the slit holes of the mask. Suddenly, I felt myself falling. I’d never seen his eyes. Not clearly. Every encounter had been with dim lighting or in the dark.

They were the darkest of browns, glittering midnight twins.

“Stay put,” he ordered.

I saluted him, sinking back into the cushions as he went into the kitchen. The sound of rummaging floated through the opening, but I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. Now that I was safe, my stomach did not feel good.

The sugary drinks were to blame.

Apple pie shooters might be good in theory, but the caramel was going to make me sick if I didn’t eat something soon. That being said, it made sense why I didn’t feel buzzed. That man forced my coworkers. I was going to talk to them about it. I would demand they tell me everything.

Or maybe you should let the mystery remain.

As strong as the temptation was to unmask my stalker, I was just passing through town. It didn’t matter. What we had wasn’t real.

The fantasy should just stay that—a fantasy.

I was about to rise, to scrounge up some food, when the masked man returned. He had a simple ham and cheese sandwich in one hand and a baggy of ice in the other, both wrapped in paper towels.

“You read my mind,” I teased, eagerly snatching the sandwich.

He grunted and busied himself with propping up my ankle on the throw pillows—darling, fluffy pink things that I would have selected had I decorated this place. In fact, all the bright pops of color made me happy around here.

The ice made me hiss, but it soon ebbed as the cold soothed the sore joint.

“You owe me a story,” he said roughly. “What made you panic?”

I continued to chew and shook my head. That wasn’t happening.

Those chocolate eyes narrowed. “Sam.”

“Stalker.”

He leaned in close, and I caught the woodsy smell of his cologne. “I’m going to find out either way, beautiful, so you might as well talk.”

“Can’t.” I held up the sandwich. “I’m eating.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed, and I felt a secret rush of delight to know I’d gotten under his skin. It blended nicely with the feel of his hard touch, stroking up and down my calf.

I was…happy.

I didn’t want it to end.

Did that qualify me to be locked in an asylum? Maybe, but that was a shrink’s problem, not mine. It didn’t matter how insane this situation was, I focused on how I felt. It was just a brief pause in my quest. Once he left, we would go back to no touching, and I would resume plotting my revenge before I left town for good.

But it was nice to feel safe by someone invested in taking care of me if only for a fleeting moment.

Might as well make the most of it.

I polished off the last bite of food, dusted my hands onto the white wrapping, then folded the paper towel into a tight ball. When the masked man reached out his hand, I pressed mine in his, holding it tight.

“What if this truce lasts a little longer?” I asked, voice suddenly breathless in anticipation of what I was about to do.

He cocked his head, studying me from behind the skeletal visage.