Page 32 of Hide and Seek
“Why not?” I say to the empty room and scribble out another question. “Carpe diem and all that jazz, right?”
Would you want to do more to me if I went for a run now?
My pulse quickens when I see the single flash, and my cheeks heat as adrenaline pours into my veins.
“Why the fuck not,” I say to myself, my pen scratching across the page as I write out another message. I’m already talking to my stalker through window messages and flashing lights; I might as well have some fun since things can’t get any crazier.
And if it turns out I’m barking up the wrong tree, almost literally in this case, then it’s not like anyone will ever find out.
Do you like games?
The flash appears almost immediately this time. I don’t hide my grin as I pull the notebook down and flip to a new page. I’m crazy, I know I am. But I’m also tired of being scared.
And I’m not just afraid of the Kings or being stalked or any of the other shit that’s dogpiling on me right now. I’m tired of being afraid of myself. Of my thoughts and wants and the things I daydream about. The things I fantasize about.
I already know I’m fucked up, might as well lean into it and just let my freak flag fly instead of pretending it’s not there.
Do you want to play one now?
Another fast flash.
Shaking my head at how utterly insane this whole situation is, I put my notebook and pen down on my dresser, pull open one of the drawers, and grab some running gear.
There’s a good chance I won’t live to see my nineteenth birthday if I don’t figure out what the hell is going on with the Kings and the threats on my life, so why not live a little now and have some fun?
Snickering at how ridiculous my life has gotten, I hold up a shirt and running pants. I can’t see anyone in the tree across from my window, but I keep my eyes on the spot where I saw the flashes as I change into my gear.
I try not to think about anything so I don’t talk myself out of this, but I can’t help wondering if he enjoys watching me undress and if he likes what he sees.
When I’m ready, I grab my notebook and write one final message on it, then press it against the glass.
Hide and seek?
The single flash sends a rush of adrenaline through me, and I toss my notebook on my desk as I hurry out the door.
I don’t see anyone as I lock up my room, then race down the back stairs like my shoes are on fire. I have no idea what’s gotten into me or why I’m suddenly acting so recklessly, but I feel nothing but anticipation and excitement as the back door to Boone House bangs shut behind me, and I step out into the cool evening air.
The area around me is clear, but that familiar sensation of having eyes on me is back, and instead of turning around and going right back up to my room like a sane person, I jog toward the trees.
It’s nearly dusk now, and the woods are eerily quiet. I’m almost at the path when a figure melts out of the shadows and grabs me around the waist.
I let out a pathetic squeal as he yanks me against his body, and my breath catches as he holds me tight, one arm around my middle and one hand loosely wrapped around my throat.
My entire body glitches out for a second as fear and excitement mix together, creating an incredible buzz that feels like being high, and I’m overwhelmed by not just his presence, but the weight of what I’ve just invited to happen.
I didn’t get a good look at him before he seemed to materialize out of nowhere, but he’s once again clad head to toe in fitted black clothes with an oversized hood obscuring his face. He’s warm and solid behind me, and his hands are rough and lightly calloused. Everything about him screams danger, but the faint scent of apple shampoo and spicy cologne that surrounds us is weirdly calming.
“Think really hard before you answer,” a low, raspy voice says in my ear. “Are you sure you want to do this? If you run and try to hide from me, Iwillfind you. But I won’tjustfind you.”
I swallow at the implication. He could be saying that he’ll hurt me, but my instincts are telling me he means something completely different. Something I’ve not only dreamed about but have spent way too many hours thinking about. Something I’ve never told anyone because I know they’ll never look at me the same if they find out what I’m truly into.
But this isn’t a fantasy. This is real life. He’s giving me an out. Too bad I’m not smart enough to take it.
“I understand,” I croak as more adrenaline pours into my veins.
He loosens his grip on me and drops his hand from my neck. “Twenty, nineteen, eighteen?—”
It takes a second to process that this is really happening, then I dart out of his arms and race away from him as he continues his countdown.
