Page 223 of Hymns of the Broken
Hellcat,
If you’re ready to live out that masked, chasing fantasy you told us about, head into the woods the second the sun disappears. Don’t bring a light. Don’t look back. You know we’ll find you.
—R
A thrill runs through me so sharp it makes my thighs press together. I can already see the woods darkening at the edge of the yard, the shadows thick and wild, waiting for me.
And I’m ready.
God, I am so ready.
The second I finish the note, I’m already running up the stairs, mind spinning wild. I run to my room, heart pounding, stripping out of my clothes with frantic, giddy fingers. I grab the softest pair of black shorts I own, pull on one of Riot’s old band tees that hangs loose and low, and pause just long enough to check my reflection.
My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright. I look a little wild. I like it.
I pad barefoot back through the house, every step echoing with anticipation, every muscle tight with electricity. When I reach the back door, the sun has nearly disappeared, bleeding purple and blue behind the trees, sinking fast.
I step out onto the porch. The air is thick with summer, warm and a little sweet. I walk out into the yard, grass cold against my feet, and stop at the edge of the woods as I watch shadows spill across the ground like spilled ink.
The silence is thick, almost humming, as I stare into the trees. My pulse pounds in my ears, and I can’t stop picturing their faces, the masks they might wear. Devil, demon, wolf. Or black leather, silver studs, sharp teeth grinning out of the dark. I wonder if they’ll say my name or if they’ll take me, rough and wordless.
My skin prickles and I fight the urge to bolt before it’s even time.
What are they going to do to me? What am I going to let them do?
RIOT
I’m crouched low in the shadows, fingers tracing the edge of my mask. It’s black leather with a wicked, red grin painted on it. I can seeherfrom here, standing at the tree line, bouncing onhertoes likeshe’strying to shake the nerves out ofherskin. She’s wearing my shirt, apair of shorts, and herhair is wild.
God, I love her.
Jasper slides up next to me, moving as quietly as a ghost. His sleek, black matte mask is dangling from his hand, and he smirks when he sees the way I’m looking at her.
“You nervous?” he whispers, teasing me.
“Not for me. Forher.”
He snorts, watching her with that dark, possessive gaze. “She’s not scared. She’s wants it. You can see it in the way she’s waiting.”
We both fall silent, watching her as the last of the sun bleeds out of the sky, turning the yard blue and shadowy. Jasper’s hand closes tightly around his mask. I can feel the tension coming off him.
“She gonna run?” he asks.
I bite back a laugh. “She’llrun. And we’ll catch her just like she wants.”
He glances sideways at me. “You got the rope?”
I flash it—a coil of black, soft, and firm. “Of course.”
He shakes his head as we crouch in the trees, masks dangling from our hands. “You know, out of all the dirty shit I’ve pictured us doing, I’m pretty sure I didn’t mentally prep for this level of… teamwork.”
I flash him a wicked grin. “That’s why we talked it out, remember? You said what you’re good with. I said what I’m good with. We don’t cross lines.”
He exhales slowly, jaw flexing as his gaze flicks back to Sawyer, stretching in the dusky light like she knows we’re watching. “Yeah. I remember.” His voice is lower now. “Still feels like we’re walking into the devil’s playground.”
I smirk. “We are. But we drew the map first, didn’t we?”
Jasper smirks, rubbing the back of his neck.“Just don’t get cocky, Riot. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”
