Page 72

A fraction of a second passes before he answers.

“They were.”

Were.

The word hits harder than everything tearing through the ground around us.

My stomach drops.

I start toward them but Ezra catches my wrist. “Stop.”

I rip away. “Touch me again and I swear to God, rich farm boy or not, I’m going to punch you in the fucking throat.”

Something changes in his face.

Good. Maybe he’ll listen.

“My friends are out there.”

“So are two hundred other people.”

“They aren’t MY friends!” The words leave my mouth before I can make them sound less horrible. I don’t care. Mariah and Ali came here with me. We’re leaving together.

Rhett pulls off his mask. “I’ll get them.”

I look at him. “You know what they look like?”

“Mariah is wearing the witch costume and currently has glitter on one side of her ass.”

I blink.

Rhett shrugs. “She fell.”

Despite everything, a laugh tries to escape me but I kill it. “And Ali?”

“Vampire. Red velvet. Looks like she regrets every decision that led her here.”

Okay. That’s Ali.

“Bring them back.”

“I will.” He starts to turn, but panic surges through me so violently that I grab the front of his shirt and yank him back. “Rhett.”

His gaze drops to my fist twisted in the fabric before lifting to my face.

For the first time tonight, I don’t have a joke. I don’t have some smart-ass comment waiting behind my teeth.

I’m fucking terrified.

My chest is so tight I can barely drag enough air into my lungs, and all I can think about is Mariah and Ali. Both of them somewhere in this screaming mass of people while the fucking ground tears itself apart beneath them.

“Please.” The word breaks on the way out.

Whatever playfulness remains in him disappears. He covers my hand with his, his expression turning deadly serious. “I’ve got them.”

I search his face, needing something I don’t even know how to ask for.

A promise.