Page 1 of Sinful Sorrow

PROLOGUE

The screeching roll of a chainsaw cries into the night as Mason’s hand wraps around mine, tight enough to hurt. He doesn’t mean to crush the small bones in my palm. He would be horrified if he knew. But a clown’s laugh, and then a six-foot-tall, red nosed, razor-sharp-toothed fucking monstrosity jumps around the corner and steals a squeal of terror from the depths of my soul.

And with it, my boyfriend’s massive basketballer hand squeezes me even tighter.

“Naomi!” Kallie cackles and practically climbs Brent’s tall, athletic frame. He’s her boyfriend. And she’s a cute, little, pixie-like cheerleader he doesn’t mind carrying. But she reaches for me. Stretching her fingers like I can somehow save us from the zombies and rabid clowns. “Get us out of here!”

“You put us in here!” Brent laughs. He seems to enjoy the macabre. Smiling, while Mason trembles. “It’s a fuckin’ haunted house, babe. Did you think they replaced the psychos this year with flowers and rainbows?”

Nervous, I slide my free hand over the tiny bulge at the bottom of my stomach. Over the baby that began growing four months ago. An accident, for sure. But not wholly unwelcome. And while I rub the bump, I wonder if we were closer to eight or nine months along, would the baby feel the adrenaline pulsing in my veins? Would he or she roll around in there, fighting the way we as grown humans do when we run from danger?

“It was cringe last year.” Kallie screams when that damn zombie comes back with the chainsaw. Then, as we turn a corner and stop in a large room of mirrors, I see myself at every angle. My face. My profile. My back. Intentionally or not, my eyes drop to my soothing hand, and when I squint, I guess I catch the small lump my clothes can’t hide.

Mason and I are college freshmen. Kallie and Brent, too. We graduated high school in June, and now the new year at Copeland U has begun—though I admit, the little surprise under my sweater added a small hitch to my plans.

I scream when a hand taps my shoulder, spinning to find a creepy Jason mask just inches from my face. Then a peel of laughter rolls along my throat when Mason drags me closer against his chest.

I’d like to say he’s protecting me. But the God’s honest truth is, I’m shielding his organs. He’s made me his human armor.

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, realizing what he’s done and yanking me around to deposit me behind his back. “I hate this place so fucking much.” He shoves—it’s gentle, but to the point—Jason back and spins at the cackling, witchy laugh of a woman all in green. And by all in green, I mean her skin. Her hair. Her elongated nose, and the prominent wart sitting at the end. But her hat is black, bent off to the side, and her broomstick is broken, so the snapped end creates a threat of splinters and sharp promises. “It’s not even October thirty-first yet. Why the fuck are we even here?”

“Because we wanted to beat the crowds.” Kallie scrambles from Brent’s hold and ducks, squealing and snagging my hand to pull me with her when the witch swings her broomstick around. It claps Brent’s shoulder, bending, so we know it’s a prop made of rubber or foam. Then Kallie drops to her ass, dragging me with her, gasping for breath through her laughter when every character inside this godforsaken house clears out of the room we’re in.

Mirrors reflect off each other. They showcase the four of us.

Two committed basketball players, destined for great things. And two cheerleaders who just so happened to be accepted into the same business program at Copeland U. We’ve been together, all of us, since Brent’s family moved in down the street from mine. Mason has been the boy next door since I was old enough to look out the window. He made friends with Brent and played ball in the street before elementary school ended. And by the completion of middle school, when hormones came into play and kids started thinking about their love lives, Kallie made her presence known and snagged the guy who wasn’t shy about looking when she wandered by.

We’ve been inseparable for a decade already, so when it was time to walk the stage at our high school graduation, and before that, apply to colleges so we could figure out our futures, it only made sense we’d head in the same direction.

The guys are gonna become NBA stars. And Kallie and I will do something worthwhile in the business world. Maybe we’ll even do that something together. And when the time is right, who knows, maybe we’ll share a wedding, too.

“It’s so much fucking spookier now that nothing is happening.” Mason pulls me to my feet, wrapping me up close and crushing the side of my face to his chest, so his pounding heart becomes all I hear. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. “I’m man enough to admit places like this make me wanna piss my pants.”

Brent laughs loudly, booming and mocking. Then like he has a point of bravery to make, he scoops Kallie into his arms and plops a kiss on her glistening lips. “It’s a haunted house. They’re kids dressed in their Halloween best and given rubber swords to scare us with. It’s fine.”

“It’s fucking stupid.” Mason loosens his fierce grip on my hand so blood pumps to the extremity once more. Then he tiptoes, his other hand outstretched, toward what might be a door. Maybe. I have no friggin’ clue. “Scary movies aren’t my thing. Scary stories around the campfire are dumb. And haunted houses are the epitome of fucked up. You know this about me! Why should we pay to be terrorized?”

“You’re paying for the adrenaline.” Brent pokes the back of my ribs, eliciting a shriek from the depths of my throat, and then a snarl when I realize it’s just him. “You’re shaking, Nomes. You got your scaredy pants on?”

“Shut the hell up.” I slap his hand away and reach out for the mirrors on my right. They’re filthy with the handprints of the people who came here before us. Smudged with sweat and terror. “I think if we…” My entire body trembles when that witch’s cackle starts up again. “If we push through here, we might be able to?—”

“Over here!” Kallie shouts, loud enough to make me jump. Then she giggles when I spin and gasp. “You’re so fucking scared,” she bursts out. “This is too easy.”

“You’re a couple of jerks.” I burrow into Mason’s side and growl at my friends. I’d kill for them, sure. I’d turn up at their homes with soup and love if they’re ever sick. I’d do just about anything for them. But right in this moment, I might be tempted to tape them to my family’s driveway and back up over their bodies just to hear the smoosh. “This place blows.”

“You’re a couple of goobers,” Kallie taunts, entirely too pleased with herself. She looks down at my belly, almost losing her humor for a beat. “This is okay, right? Like, with the baby?”

“I don’t know!” I caress my stomach and drag Mason along when Kallie and Brent go another way. “I don’t think being scared for a few minutes will harm it. It’s just… It doesn’t have ears yet. Or eyes.”

“That’s actually not true.” Mason throws his arm over my shoulder and tugs me in tight. “At four months, Google says it has ears and eyes and eyelashes and vocal cords and all sorts of cool stuff.”

My heart melts for the man who secretly researches a baby’s development despite the oodles of studying already on his plate, then I shoot a glare at my best friend. “Jerk! The baby can hear everything. So a Jason lookalike scaring us is hardly a great start to life.”

“It’s October,” she sniggers, turning when Brent gives her hand a gentle yank. “It’s supposed to be a spooky time. We do this every single year.”

“We hate this,” Mason growls, “every single year.”

“Boo!” Freddy Kruger jumps out from a dark crevice, swiping his bladed glove through the air so the tips barely glide through the ends of my swinging hair. Then he disappears again before our screams die out. Meanwhile, somewhere else in the house, other idiots just like us enter and yelp.

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