Page 2 of Slash or Smash
When I glance over my shoulder with a smile, they’re approaching at an even pace, carafes and strollers in hand. I’dbet my life savings there’s wine in those cups, perhaps even something stronger like an Irish coffee. Then again, it’s not that cold this year. There’s the softest howl in the autumnal breeze, but it’s not nearly as chilly as it usually is. No need to keep warm while doing the neighborhood rounds.
“I’m so glad I’m not on trick or treat duty this year,” Letti says. “Love my kids, but damn, it’s a workout.”
“Amen,” Nina agrees. “Charli’s in that phase of wanting to get out of her stroller every five seconds, and I just don’t have it in me to wrangle her the entire night.”
“Yeah, I don’t miss that,” Audrey adds, her tone amused and only slightly reminiscent. “Peyton decided she didn’t want to dress up this year, so she’s going to watch a movie with her dad instead.”
Audrey had Peyton really young. She was a month shy of sixteen by the time she gave birth. Given how small our town is, it was the scandal of the year, especially when she and Jace broke up for good. But she’s a great mom, and Peyton’s such a bright, sweet girl. Everyone loves her.
“She was so cute, though,” I remind her, looping my arm lovingly through hers. “Her costumes were always adorable.”
“They were,” my best friend agrees fondly as we cross Fogsmere Road to Main Street. “And she loved showing Auntie Way Way all of them.”
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling open the doors to the Moor’s newest addition. For as long as I can remember, this place was the local oddities and metaphysical joint. The owner, Mr. Farthingstone, died a couple of years ago, though, and with no family to take over, it sat vacant until April. I don’t know what I thought The Lock Box was, I haven’t paid it much mind, but it wasn’t an escape room.
“Welcome to The Lock Box,” a husky timbre greets. “You ladies walked in just in time.”
That voice…
It’s not anyone I recognize. The sound of it is just so…sexy.
Snapping my gaze away from the lavishly decorated space, I note a mammoth of a man behind the counter—and he’s in a fucking Ghostface mask. If it wasn’t for Audrey pinching the back of my arm and tugging me along, I might have made friends with the floor.
And I’m not even wearing heels.
“Why’s that?” Frankie questions, her tone sassy and flirty.
“Because it’s almost closing time. If you’d shown up ten minutes from now, we would’ve had to turn you away. Each experience takes anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour.”
“How many rooms do y’all have to choose from?” she presses.
“Currently five. Four smaller ones on the first floor, and a huge one with various rooms within the experience on the second.”
“Which one would you recommend?” the question rolls off my tongue as my legs carry me to the front of the group, my hips swaying naturally with each step. I may not be able to see his eyes beneath that mask, but I canfeelthem roaming every inch of my body. The bat wings at my back, the peeks of fair skin beneath my fishnets, the way the latex bodysuit hugs my curves, how my H cup tits jut out from the sweetheart neckline…
“The one on the second fl?—”
“Alright, room two’s almost done. They just activated the last puzzle,” another voice interrupts, revealing himself from behind a curtain. He’s as big as the man in front of me, only he’s donning a Jason mask.
Well, fuck.
His smile is palpable, head cocking aside. “What do we have here?”
“Our next victim,” Ghostface states.
Again, I can’t see him, but the eye contact is unmistakable.I nearly melt into a goddamn puddle.
“What’s the theme of the one on the second floor?” my best friend asks somewhere behind me, reminding me that I’m not here alone.
“The Haunted Mansion,” Jason answers.
“Oh, I’m so down for that,” Frankie says animatedly, similar concessions coming from the rest of the group.
“Looks like we’re doing the Haunted Mansion.” My lips spread in a grin as I reach between my cleavage for my mini wallet and fish out my credit card.
Ghostface nods sans words and rings us up while Jason shows us to the lockers to store our stuff. I ditch the bat ears and wings for comfort, thankful I decided on combat boots before walking out the door, and toss my wallet in, too. After going through the basic rules, the guys unlock the massive safe door leading to the stairs and turn to face us.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Jason adds. “If the walls shift and your party is scattered, do not turn back. The manor favors those who move forward…”
