Page 29 of Ghosts of Halloween

“You should have used a condom,” I spit out. “Because I’m not bringing a kid into the shitshow that’s my life. No way. So either bring me plan B or let me go so I can get it myself.”

He barks out a surprised laugh and comes closer again, raising his hand to touch me. I snap my teeth at him, and he pulls the hand back, shaking his head.

“Fuck, babe. That’s okay. I won’t knock you up. I’m sterile, okay? Calm down.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” I snarl.

Groomer exchanges a look with Strangler, their masks communicating in silence, and it makes me livid.

I shouldn’t have done any of this. I shouldn’t have let them. Now that it’s over, I don’t even know how it happened. I guess… Sparks. They clouded my judgment.

That touchy-feely bastard.

Well, no one is touching me now. And no one will.

“I’m tired of this game,” I say, glaring at each of them in turn. “I want to see who you are, and then I want to go home. You had your fun with the armless girl. You can brag to your friends. So let me go.”

“Fine,” Groomer says, and it seems like the other two are surprised, because they turn to him as if to protest.

Strangler clears his throat, but Groomer raises his hand to silence him. He turns back to me, stepping so close, I smell him. Warm, male body. Sweat. Arousal and some kind of body wash that vaguely rings a bell.

“Fine, princess. I will untie you and you can see me without the mask.”

Groomer gets to work on my harness, expert fingers loosening the knots and pulling on the rope until I stand free, rolling my shoulders in discomfort. When Groomer makes no move to take off his mask, I give him an impatient look, and he laughs quietly.

He leans closer, taking my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing up my cheeks. My breath hitches and I squirm, helpless as sparks pour into my bloodstream.

Fucking sparks.They are my drug, my addiction, the high I’ve chased for so long. And he can give them to me just like that. Without any effort at all.

I can’t help but hate him a little even as I bite back a whimper, not even trying to push him away. He’s my crack. He can do whatever he wants with me, and it’s the most helpless I’ve ever felt. I want to glare at him, but I know my eyes must be pleading as I look into the holes in his mask.

Then I squint. It seems like his eyesaregreen. Just like Jack’s. But then he speaks again, and I forget my ridiculous suspicion, outraged by his words.

“You can see who I am,” he says again. “But you have to catch me first.”

16

Caden

“We’re playing fucking tag now? This wasn't part of the plan,” Silas growls as we run through the house, getting away from Harlow. “Why can’t we just use the mojo and…”

“In a minute,” Jack says, looking frustrated. “We’ll talk in the basement, all right? It’s the last place she’ll go.”

Silas doesn’t reply, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as me. That Jack is no longer on board.

Hell. If he tries to convince us to let her go, I swear I’ll fucking hit him. He can like her pussy all he wants and fuck her until morning for all I care, but she’s not leaving this place. I refuse to be trapped even one day longer.

All right, scratch that. He can fuck her until morning as long as I get a turn, too. She can blow me while he takes her from behind. Shouldn’t be a problem.

I really fucking need the little bird before it’s over.

Jack locks the basement door and we go down the narrow stairs until we reach our card corner. Silas lounges in the armchair and I grab a stool while Jack lights the candles. His hands shake.

We take off our masks and throw them on a pile. Jack fidgets with his, reluctant to let it go, and Silas rolls his eyes.

“I fucking knew you’d bail on us,” he says.

Then he stands up and stomps on his and my mask, breaking the cheap plastic into pieces.

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