Page 40 of Foul & Fake
Nodding, I pull out my phone and see he’s already reached out to me.
Soccer Boy
Cold
Okay, so I’m clearly not close to him, but he’s close enough to see me. I’m not sure how that works, but I spin in a slow circle trying to find all the idiots running around in masks.
I see Ghost Face standing next to Blake in a Nancy Drew costume first, and then Jason Vorhees, a skeleton, a demon, and a couple I can’t quite make out. Is that a werewolf? Ugh!
Half of them are built like Elias, but none of them seem to be paying attention to me, so I keep walking.
I feel like an idiot.
Soccer Boy
Warmer.
I’m slightly closer to the woods now so I take a couple steps back toward the house to be sure, and when another text comes in saying I’m cold again I know where he wants me to go.
I had a feeling he’d use tonight to live out his little hunting fantasy — hell, it’s why I chose a costume with a skirt — but I thought I’d at least get to see him first, maybe warm up a little. Have a couple of drinks, make sure he has a condom on him, not that I really believe he’ll use one today.
But nope, he’s throwing me right off into the deep end. Fine. Tucking my phone away in the clutch slung over my shoulder, I head deeper into the woods.
For a while, nothing happens. The sounds from the party fade and I don’t see anyone at all, all I hear is the leavesunder my shoes, and an owl high up in a tree. I feel ridiculous wandering around out here up until a branch breaks off to my right, making my heart jump in my chest.
“Riley,” he singsongs, sending a chill up my spine.
This is the same man who didn’t lose a wink of sleep blackmailing me into a sexual relationship. If he could do that, what else is he capable of? It’s dark and chilly and a little too eerie out here for me to be fully comfortable, and maybe that’s how he wants it.
“Elias, where are you? This isn’t funny,” I call, spinning and catching a glimpse of a neon orange purge mask shining out at me through the dark.
It’s gone the second I blink.
It takes all the air out of my lungs with it as I continue to stare at where I swear it just was.
“Warmer,” he whispers into the wind, and by the time it reaches my ears another twig snaps.
My entire body comes alive with adrenaline as fear and self-preservation take over. It’s… almost intoxicating the way it clears my senses and pushes me forward, and as I start to run, I realize something else.
I’m fucking wet.
Not just a little, but more than I expected.
His laugh surrounds me as footsteps become louder behind me, each step he takes feels deliberate, but I can be deliberate too. Cutting left, I zig-zag through the trees faster, constantly changing direction until I’m sure I’ve lost him, and all I hear is my own stumbling footsteps and pounding heart.
I almost regret my tactics when I start to feel completely alone out here, but suddenly he’s wrapping his arms around me and growling into my ear. “Got you!”
My scream is cut off by his hand as I thrash out of instinct, a grunt leaving him as I elbow him in the stomach. “Damn, cupcake. You fighting is only making me hard.”
Of course it is, he’s a psycho.
Yet as he slips his hand up under my skirt, I’m forced to admit that maybe I am, too.
“Fuuuck,” he slips two fingers inside of me with ease. “My girl loves the chase doesn’t she?”
I didn’t think so, but I guess I do.
What the hell does that say about me?
