Fuck. Daya.
I scramble up and towards the phone, clenching my teeth from the feel of him sliding out of me. My thumb trembles violently as I click the green button on my screen.
“Hello?” I answer, wincing when I hear how shaky and hoarse my voice is.
“Where the fuck are you?” she shouts through her receiver, her own voice trembling and full of anger.
“I got lost, and my cell reception has been spotty,” I lie sheepishly, not willing to admit what really happened. Ignoring Zade's presence, I scramble to pull my clothes on. Cringing both from the yelling in my ear and the slickness trailing down my thighs.
“The park is closed, Addie! I got kicked out already, and they said that the House of Mirrors had already been cleared out. The stupid asshole security guard didn’t believe me when I said you didn’t come out. I’ve been worried fucking sick.”
Just as I slip on my shoes, a muttered, “shit,” sounds from behind me, drawing my attention.
Zade is staring at his phone, his face is cast in a severe expression.
He's wearing nothing but his black boots and undone jeans slung low, giving a mouthwatering view of the defined V disappearing beneath the fabric.
Daya's ranting fades to the background as my attention snags.
The light from his phone accentuates the muscles straining against his smooth flesh, the scars and the black, intricate tattoos only adding to his savagery.
The veins threading throughout his hands and arms are bulging and goddamn, if I wasn’t already leaning against a mirror, I’d collapse from how devastating he looks right now.
That masterpiece of jagged scars and rough edges fucked me into oblivion and vowed that I’d have his babies one day. I can’t breathe.
“Addie, I swear to fu—"
“I… I’ll be right out, Daya. I’m so sorry,” I respond, forcing my gaze away back to my surroundings, trying to gather my bearings.
Which is really hard to do in a house of a million mirrors.
She takes a deep, calming breath. “Okay, I'm sorry. I’ve just been really scared, Addie.”
I flinch as a different kind of tsunami overwhelms me. This one is filled with every negative emotion imaginable. Guilt. Shame. Regret.
"I'm really sorry, Daya. I'll see you in a few."
I hang up the phone and immediately start walking off in the direction I think I’m supposed to be going in.
“Wrong way, little mouse. Follow me,” Zade says, his deep tenor causing me to tense, my shoulders rocketing to my ears. He’s finished dressing and is heading in the opposite direction.
Stiffly, I turn and follow after him. Not asking or caring how he knows where to go, as long as he gets me out of here.
After fifteen tense minutes, we find the exit door and I rush out, the cold air a balm to my heated face.
The fair is a stark difference to when I came in. The field is completely devoid of life. Not a single soul on the grounds nor any lights.
How long were we in there for? I check the time, and my eyes bug when I note that it’s twelve-thirty in the morning.
Two hours! I’ve been in there for two fucking hours. Sure, half of that was getting through the mirrors but still. Normal people don’t fuck for that long, do they?
Zade is somewhere behind me, so I glance over my shoulder and say, “Don’t follow me out. Daya is waiting for me, and I don’t want her to see you.” Even I can detect the coldness in my voice.
The entire fifteen minutes it took to find our way out, all I could think about is how I want to fuck him again.
And that scares the absolute shit out of me.
It was the reality check I needed—a very stark reminder that I just had sex with my stalker. I shouldn't have let any of that happen.
I feel his hand clamp around my wrist a second before he whips me around. I stumble into him, but he catches me quickly, wrapping a hand tightly around the back of my neck.
“I’m late for a date with a psycho girl anyways,” he says easily. My eyes round and he smiles when he detects the anger in my eyes. “Don’t be jealous, little mouse. It’s not a real date. She’s not my type of crazy. Despite the fact that she’s not you.”
I scoff. “I’m not jealous. Let me go,” I snap, attempting to pull away from him.
He pulls me in close, his lips brushing across mine as he stares deeply into my eyes.
“That will never happen, Adeline. I will never let you go.” I stiffen, thrown off by the severity in his tone. He’s actually serious.
He crushes his lips to mine before I can respond. And because this will be the last time I will ever allow this man to touch me, I respond in kind. I claw at him, tugging at the collar of his hoodie roughly, and clenching his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down hard until I taste his blood on my tongue.
He growls and devours me whole, his mouth still tasting of my pussy. And then he rips away from me, breathing hard.
“Go,” he demands roughly.
I don’t hesitate. I stumble out of the field and to my waiting car, the only one left in the parking lot. A fidgeting Daya sits behind the wheel, her stare boring into me.
I sigh, readying myself for a tough conversation I don’t know how to have. I’ll stick to my story. I got lost. That’s it.
I open the car door and nearly collapse in. When I meet her stare, she's glaring at me with the heat of a thousand suns.
“Why the fuck do you look and smell like you just got fucked?”
Chapter 31
The Shadow
“W
hat took you so long?” the psycho girl snaps, her dull brown eyes alight with fire. The same inferno in her eyes is what’s still residing in my chest.
My heart hasn’t stopped pounding, and I’m plagued with the unbending need to fuck her again. My brain feels like it's been tossed into a skillet and pan-seared to a crisp. I need to focus, but it’s nearly impossible when the taste of Addie lingers on my tongue, and I’m still gripped by the feel of her tightly wrapped around me.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to concentrate when I just found God. Or rather, I think I just became one.
But how can I feel like a god, yet be completely stripped of power when it comes to her?
I don’t know.
All I know is I fucking love haunted fairs now.
"I got caught up with something," I murmur, sweeping the room for lingering employees. Or any deadly surprises if the murderous look in the psycho girl's eyes is anything to go by. She's still planning on killing me, and the notion is laughable.
If it were so fucking easy to kill me, I would've been dead long ago. These scars are proof of that.
After our confrontation, the broken doll and I decided to team up for the time being. Since Mark decided to take matters into his own hands and try to kidnap and enslave my girl, I decided he was no longer worth keeping alive. The two seconds it took for him to conspire against Addie was the equivalent to writing his name in a Death Note.
There’s no chance of his survival.
So, we knocked out the four of them. The doll said she’d take them somewhere where the guests wouldn’t find them and meet up at midnight to get my answers and finish them off for good.
Claire, of course, witnessed the entire thing, and the doll sent her running. I couldn’t do anything at the moment when I had four men to handle, but the second I walked out of that haunted house, I had one of my men find her and take her somewhere safe.