Page 11 of Theirs to Chase

“Guys, we need to get out of here,” I breathe, taking a step back.

But Max and Nadia are nowhere in sight. My breath quickens just when the man takes a step toward me, holding that cable wire cutter ominously. I scan my surroundings, looking for a place to run to, but I suddenly have no idea how we even got to the Ferris wheel.

Where are you, Nadia?

Another step forward, and the weight of despair crushes me. Another breath, and I walk backward as the murderer takes a step forward in a game of chase. He’s toying with me.

Something flickers in the corner of my eye, another shadow stalking toward me. Blood covers his chest, eyes red-rimmed. I instantly recognize who he is, even without the pumpkin mask on—Eros. Piercing green eyes are wild and terrified as he runs toward me.

“Eveline!” A scream tears from his chest as he sprints toward me.

“What the fuck happened?” I ask, terror-struck.

“They’re dead. All my friends are dead.”

He catches sight of the murderer a few meters away and the crushed people inside the Ferris wheel cart, swallowing harshly with a lingering sense of paranoia. Quickly, he grabs my hand, rushing me away from the horror scene and into the shadows.

Relief washes over me at having him here—I’m no longer alone—even as a flicker of unease filters through me. I don’t truly know him, but right now, he’s leading me away to safety. Adrenaline fuels my body forward.

“Do you know where the exit is?” I cry out, because I can’t fucking remember anything in the jumbled mess of my terrified mind, and Nadia and Max are nowhere in sight.

“This way,” he hushes me, our feet pounding against theground as we pass by multiple attractions, all dark because of the electricity being shut down.

Suddenly, Eros stops, turning in circles while looking around, confused. “I swear the exit was this way.” He swallows harshly.

I grab his hand in my trembling one, needing to hold on to something steady. A blinking red light catches my periphery. My palms grow clammy.

“He’s watching us,” I whisper, as if the murderer could hear us through the surveillance cameras.

It blinks red, zoning in on us.

“Come on,” Eros urges, holding my hand as he takes us into the shadows, away from the sight of the cameras.

“Look, there,” I say, my gaze drawn to a miniature pumpkin house. No cameras are stationed outside, and merely a few strides have us inside the building.

It’s a peculiar structure—roundly shaped with the floor flat, warped mirrors inside that takes you into a world of fun and giggles.

This is anything but.

Eros closes the door behind us as quietly as he can, panting. He’s covered in his friends’ blood, and I reach out a hand to stroke his cheek.

“What happened?”

He looks defeated, staring into my eyes with such sadness it makes my heart ache.

“The murderer pushed them into the waterslide, crushing them underneath the machine.” He closes his eyes, willing away the memories. “The water turned red. T-their body parts…”

I say nothing. There’s nothing to say when your friends have been brutally murdered.

He breathes me in, as if grounding himself in my present. Suddenly, he pushes me against one of the mirrors, making it rattle. His tattooed hand caresses my throat, staring me downwith his intense gaze. His jaw is sharp and defined, nose slightly crooked. It’s not until now that I’m able to absorb him properly—his face is striking, with angular, defined cheekbones adding a sharpness to his look. His brown hair is tousled and messy, and there’s a rawness to his expression that pulls me in, wrapping around me like thorny vines.

I don’t know what I’m thinking—I just don’t, as I trail my hand along his cheek, taking in his dark eyebrows that are slightly arched and framing his deep-set eyes. I’m mesmerized by this man who captured my soul the moment he chased me last year. It’s terrifying, and I don’t even know him.

“Spider, and I stop. Okay?” He holds me captive to the mirror which digs into my back with abandon.

My eyes are wide as I stare at him, that mischievous look in his eyes. “Ugh, I hate spiders,” I blurt out.

“Tell me you understand.” His finger digs into my skin, squeezing tightly—I’m sure it will bruise tomorrow.

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