Page 14 of Fright Night
His chuckle is one that’d be found in the depths of Hell, with the demons who reside there, if such a place were real. “It’s the part I ask how fear makes you truly feel. Don’t say anxious, because that’d be a lie.”
Alive.It’s something I’llneveradmit to him or anyone else. Something that has me questioning my own sanity.
His thumb sweeps down the column of my neck and I bite the corner of my lip to prevent from making an audible noisethat’ll let him know how good his touch feels. How I should be terrified of this man, and demanding answers, most notably the one regarding why I woke to his cum staining my back yesterday.
His other hand skates from the wall to my face, pressing into the same spot on my mouth that I’m biting onto. He makes a sucking noise with his teeth, and demands, “I want answers.”
“Youwant answers? How about mine? Like the fact you’ve broken into my house on more than one occasion and—” My words cut off, eyes flicking to the bedroom to our left, unsure how to put it all into something decipherable.
“Told you, I’ve missed you.”
“Coming on my back was the way to show that?”
His smile is so wide and manic; it’s terror-inducing. Heart-pounding. Blood racing.
Core clenching. But that last one is a symptom of insanity, not lust.
“You got my video, eh? Good. What’d you think of my trick, Trickster?”
“You’re disgusting.”
His thumb taps my pulse. “This states otherwise, but please, keep lying. You looked so pretty, lying there asleep. So lovely and safe, and you needed a reminder of why all that’s false. It’s been years but not one day has passed where you haven’t been on my mind.”
Ditto.But probably for different reasons. My thoughts centred on his well-being and my guilt, wanting to speak with him and apologize. His thoughts were probably centred on his loathing for me and every cruel thing he wants to do.
His presence gives me the chance to finally apologize, but none of this is going how I ever imagined our reunion would be.
Instead, I say something defensive because it seems to be the only way I know how tobearound him. “It’s sick. Breaking and entering and thenthat.”
His lip curls, mocking. “Gonna report me to the police…again?”
I should. With a criminal record behind him, even Henry wouldn’t be able to help him. The first time was undeserving and my fault, but this potential second time, in retaliation to his actions, would be different.
“I won’t report it if you tell me what you want so badly that you’ve stalked me for the past two days.”
“Was it only two days?” he asks in a tone that makes me second-guess everything over the past month. That makes me stare down the hallway, trying to reimagine every trip to work, every night in bed, every waking minute he could have been watching me, all unknown. “The time doesn’t matter,” he continues, though it very much does, “unless youfinallyanswer my question. Why did you lie to the police? Since my father dragged me away so soon after court, I never got the chance to ask.”
Because I’m an idiot who took a joke too far.
For the first time in years, I breathe. There’s a sense of weightlessness about to be unleashed. Guilt to be resolved and removed for good—finally.
“Trickster,” I whisper his name for me as though that explains everything. “The game. It was my turn, and I…”
“You got me arrested for a stupidgame?”
Dumbass me didn’t think anything through back then.
“I assumed it wouldn’t turn into anything and we’d laugh about it afterwards. That you might even have appreciated it. I guessed your dad would pull some strings and get you free.” Whichiswhat happened, but I was an idiotic eighteen-year-old with zero concept of the law and didn’t realize they’d still find a way to punish him. “Community service aside, I definitely didn’t think you’d be sent away.”
He rolls his eyes. “Dad’s been trying to push me away for so long, this gave him reason to.”
Flashes of the year we spent living together under our parents’ roof run through my mind. The fights between him and his father. The times he’d slink off to his room with his cheek red, the emotional, physical, and mental abuse lingering for days, weeks, months afterwards.
The onesstilllingering.
For whatever reason, Knox couldn’t do anything by Henry’s standards. It’s the main reason why I accepted this house and took the City Hall job. Why I attend endless suppers and brunches with my parents. To keep Henry compliant and content with me, to not send me away like he did Knox. To not want to kick me out of the family. I’d already lost one dad in the past; I don’t want to lose another, even if Henry’s personality leaves something to be desired.
Knox shoves off the wall, glaring down with eyes the colour of a void. They make me want to escape, reminding me I don’t reallyknowKnox anymore. So this anger…who knows what’s about to happen.
