Forget it. I’m simply not going to think about Killian right now.
I wait for a few minutes, until my feet and hands start to ache, then when I’m sure he’s most definitely gone, I slowly climb down. It’s easy to climb trees. All you have to do is make sure you have a strong foothold and that you’re holding a solid branch.
Once I’m halfway there, I peek down to measure the distance and shriek when I find a neon red mask staring up at me with a chilling calm.
Shit.
Shit.
The arsehole must’ve been waiting for me to come out from my hiding spot. I didn’t trick him into thinking I went in the opposite direction. He knew where I was the entire time and he’s the one who tricked me into showing myself.
I make a snap decision and climb up. It doesn’t matter if I stay at the top of this tree for a whole night as long as I stay away from the crazy bastard.
I’m not a meter up when something hits the branch I’m holding on to. The bat.
He threw it at the branch, causing it to snap in two. My foot slips and I grab the void in my attempts to catch another branch. The fall happens in slow motion and I feel every hit of air against my skin and the horrifying speed I’m sinking with.
I screw my eyes shut for the fall. I’m definitely going to break a bone or two—
However, instead of the ground I expect to greet me, my entire body is enveloped by a strong grip. The cocoon I’m caught in sways a little from the thud of my fall but remains sturdy.
Cold air hits my face, and I realize it’s because my mask has been removed.
“So it is you. I had a feeling when I saw your little white panties through your shorts but couldn’t be sure.” His voice darkens to a chilling edge. “I thought I told you to be good and stay put tonight.”
I slowly open my eyes to find myself completely wrapped in Killian’s arms. The neon red mask with a stitched smile makes him appear frightening, manic even.
His muscles tighten around me until it’s almost suffocating, and I hate how glad I am for him catching me. Or how warm it feels in his embrace. It shouldn’t be like this.
Not when he’s the most ice-cold person I know.
“What the hell were you thinking when you broke the branch?” I breathe harshly, still under the spine-curling sensation of falling. “I could’ve dropped on the rock.”
“Which you didn’t, because I caught you. Now, tell me, Glyndon. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I got an invitation.”
He remains silent, but I can see him narrow his eyes through the mask. “Bullshit.”
“I really did. You can find it in my phone that your creepy bunnies confiscated. Seriously, why did it have to be bunnies? They’re supposed to be cute, and you guys ruined their image by making them grotesque.”
“You’re the one who’s cute when you’re nervous. Can’t stop talking, huh?”
“Shut up and let me down.”
“No can do. How else are you going to pay for defying me if I release you?”
“Why…would I pay for anything?”
“Try again and in a less spooked tone, because your nervousness turns me on.”
“You’re sick.”
“And you’re a broken record.” He shoves his face against the side of my throat so he’s literally breathing down my neck, his hot breaths triggering my hitched breaths. “Why are you here, Glyndon?”
“I told you, I got an invitation,” I try to speak normally, but my voice comes out lower than usual.
“Do you attend every dangerous event you get invited to?”
“I just…got curious.” There’s no way I’ll tell him about Devlin when he could be in on the conspiracy with the rest of the club about his death.
His eyes darken behind the mask, and with the neon red, they’re downright terrifying. It’s like he’s taking his predator role way too seriously.
Or maybe it’s not a role for him. Maybe it’s his true self and whatever he shows the outside world is the actual role.
His voice echoes in the silence around us like a twisted melody. “Maybe you didn’t only get curious. Maybe you wanted the danger and to see for yourself what it means to be on that cloud of adrenaline. Maybe you just wanted to be hunted like an animal and then captured and ravaged in the most barbaric way. Is that what you wanted, little rabbit?”
I frantically shake my head, refusing to come to terms with the chills that cover my body or the tightening between my legs that’s been intensifying with each of his words.
“Are you telling me that if I rip your shorts and touch your cunt, I won’t find it soaking wet like when I came through your window last night?”
I freeze.
Wait…what?
Did he just say that last night he came through my window? As in, that nightmare was real?
He puts me to my feet and some pebbles crunch beneath my shoes as I sway a little, both from the shock of the realization and the loss of his warmth.
I swear to God this bastard is playing a mind trick on me.
He has to be.
Right?
He towers over me, the sight of his mask adding more to his downright horrifying existence. “Your little body was writhing beneath me, you all but tried to ride my hand, remember?”
“That’s not true,” I whisper more to myself than to him. “I didn’t.”
“You hate it, don’t you? How much you want what I have to offer, how you ache for that feeling of letting go as you’re ravaged whole. For a moment, you want to stop being a good girl and just let whatever lurks inside you loose, isn’t that right?”
“I don’t want you.” I shake my head over and over, stepping back. “I don’t. I refuse to. I won’t.”
“Look at you being adorable.” Both darkness and amusement laces his tone. “Didn’t I say your nervousness turns me on? Let’s add your denial, too.”
My gaze automatically goes to his trousers and I nearly choke at the sight of the tent that’s bulging against the material. “Don’t, Killian.”
“Mmm. I really do love the sound of my name in your sweet little voice.”
I keep stepping back, but he matches my strides with nonchalant ones. “Would you stop if I begged you?”
“No.”
“If I scream?”
“I’ll just muffle it.”
“If I hit you?”
“It’ll just piss me off and my actions will turn drastic. Highly not recommended.”
My shoes hit a rock and I yelp as I trip, but he grabs my elbow, keeping me upright.
“Stop acting like you don’t want it, Glyn. All the dramatics are starting to get on my last nerve.”
“Please,” I whisper.
“Begging holds the importance of a fly to me.”
“Then what is important to you?”
“Right now? You and your virgin cunt.”
I want to scream, both from frustration and anger, at my reaction to his words. How can I want someone I hate? Someone who, without any sliver of doubt, fucking scares me?
And deep down, I know he just won’t stop until he takes my virginity. It’s a conquest, and he’s a true predator.
One with no limits.
Taking a deep breath, I choose another approach. “What if I told you that I need more time?”
“Hmm.” His finger taps on the side of my elbow. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re stalling so you can get more time to find a solution to get rid of me, but I’m telling you right now, it’s not going to work.”
“I just…want more time, please.”
His eyes flash with annoyance, probably too used to getting what he wants only to be told no, and I’m almost sure he’ll bend me over and fuck me anyway, but he releases my elbow. “Since you asked nicely, fine.”
“Really?”
“Do you want me to change my mind?”
“No.” I smile. “Thanks.”
“See? I can be nice.”
I snort, then puff out a breath and whisper, “Nice, my arse.”
“I heard that.”