Page 33 of Masked Mayhem

“What about your ex? Could it be him?” Her voice drops to a whisper, as if the very mention could summon a ghost.

I try to appear brave, though fear is clawing at my insides. “He’s in prison for attempted murder and isn’t due for release for another sixty years,” I murmur, feeling those words tumble from my lips like poison, igniting my throat just by uttering anything having to do with him.

“Is there any chance he could be released early?”

“I doubt it. And if he were, the authorities are supposed to inform me. I haven’t received any notifications—no calls, no letters, no emails, nothing indicating his early release.”

I pull away from the window and collapse into the nearest chair, my mind a chaotic whirlwind of dread, and breathing feels almost impossible. Boston approaches and gently rubs my back, trying to soothe the panic enveloping me. I wish I could tell her that it’s not working, but instead, I remain silent, letting her believe her comfort is helping.

Finally, after what feels like hours of anxious silence, I find the courage to speak again. “Boston, what if I’m in danger? What if this masked guy is connected to him somehow?” My voice trembles with the weight of panic that refuses to subside.

Boston’s hand stills on my back, and I can feel her resolve hardening. “We need to be smart about this. You should probably come stay with me at Lux’s for a while. Just until we figure this out. You can’t be alone with this guy lurking around.”

I shake my head vehemently, my heart racing at the very thought. “And leave the club? My job? I can’t just walk away from this place and risk not being able to come back once this is over. Besides, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but I've already talked to Lux about it, and he gave me a room here to stay in until we figure shit out."

“Okay, here is better than our apartment. We’ll make it work,” she insists, determination etched on her face. “You’re more important than a gig, Raven. This is about your safety. Trust me.”

There's a long pause as I weigh my options, the masked man still visible below, his presence like a dark cloud over my mind. The air feels thick with gloom, and my instincts scream at me that he’s not simply some random guy looking for a good time.

Just then, footsteps echo through the corridor outside Lux’s office, and I stiffen, worry flooding my veins. Lux’s voice rings out, commanding and confident. “What did you see?” he asks someone.

“It was just him—no one else,” replies a voice I don’t recognize. “He hasn’t moved. But he’s not just a normal guy. Something about the way he sits there… it’s like he’s waiting for something... or someone.”

My heart races; it could only mean one thing—King and D are on to him already, and they won’t let this shit slide. Suddenly, Lux bursts through the office door, eyes sharp and alert. He barely glances at me before focusing on Boston.

“Get her out of here. Now,” he demands in the sternest voice I've ever heard come out of his mouth, and it scares the shit out of me.

“Lux, wait—” I start, but he holds up a hand, his expression leaving no room for argument.

“Raven, listen to me. This isn’t a fucking game. We don’t know what that guy is capable of, and I won’t let you put yourself in danger. You need to fucking go.”

In a daze, I nod slowly, the reality of the situation crashing down hard on me. I shoot a glance out the glass panel, and my blood runs cold—he’s still there, unmoving, like a predator waiting for its prey.

Boston interlaces her fingers with mine, tugging me towards the door. “Come on. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

"Find Havoc and Crow and have them take her to the safehouse," Lux states firmly, giving Boston a smile as he sits down and picks up his phone.

With a last, hesitant look back towards the club, my sanctuary twisted into a nightmare, I step away from the twisted chaos behind the glass and follow her out, the weight of uncertainty heavy on my shoulders.

As we navigate the winding hallways of the club, my pulse races. Every creak of the floorboards beneath my feet sounds like an alarm echoing through the stillness, leading me deeper into the glaring reality that I’m in danger. My heart pounds with each step, anxiety clawing at my chest as Boston pushes open the door to the back exit, a powerful gust of cold air hitting us as we spill into the alleyway.

"Stay close," she whispers, scanning the surroundings with caution.

The alley is dark, muffled sounds from the club bleeding into the night. Neon lights flicker in the distance, painting the walls in hues of blues and reds. The once comforting hum of the place now feels suffocating and threatening.

I glance behind us, half-expecting to see the masked figure following us, his ominous presence looming. But there's nothing—just shadows. I breathe a little easier, though dread still lingers heavily in the pit of my stomach.

Boston leads the way, her grip on my hand strong and reassuring. She guides me towards a nondescript black SUV parked towards the far end of the alley. As we approach, I can see Havoc leaning against the vehicle, arms crossed, looking like the very embodiment of cool detachment mixed with deadly intention. Crow stands beside him, his unmistakable bulk intimidating against the SUV's sleek form.

“Did Lux tell you what’s going on?” Havoc asks as we reach them, his voice low but steady.

“Not much,” I admit, anxiety creeping in again. “Just that I should leave.”

Crow opens the back door of the SUV, revealing the dark interior. “It’s not safe here. We’re getting you to the safehouse. That’s all you need to know right now.”

I nod, though I still feel a flood of questions bubbling beneath the surface. As I climb inside, I squeeze Boston's hand, feeling a twinge of guilt for leaving her behind in the chaos.

“You’ll be okay?” I ask, concern etching my features.

---