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Red Mask’s fingers circle a baseball bat that’s resting nonchalantly on his shoulder.
Killian
Green Mask is holding a bow and has arrows with rubber points in a quiver that’s slung over his back.
Killians Brother. Gareth
White Mask strokes a huge chain that’s draped around his hands like a snake.
Unsure
Orange Mask’s gloved hand rests on top of a metal golf club that’s propped on the ground.
Jeremy
Yellow Mask has no weapon at all, but his fists are balled.
Nikolai
Orange Mask rises to his impressive height that nearly eats up the horizon, then slowly, too slowly, his head tilts in my direction. The neon stitches glow in the near darkness as eerie silence stakes its claim. My spine jerks when his rough, deep voice echoes in the air. “I know you’re hiding. Come out and I promise not to hurt you. Much.”
Or Jeremy Volkov. Please don’t let it be Jeremy.
“Fuck me first,” I whisper, my voice so low that I barely hear it. His entire being pauses, like when I slapped his hand earlier. “Fuck you first?” he repeats slowly, almost as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue. I nod.
He releases my hair, hand snaking down to the pulse point in my throat, leaving shivers in its wake before he cups a breast through my shirt. His touch is savage, almost punishing as he digs his fingers into the skin. “Why?” It takes everything in me to remain collected despite the throbbing and the dull ache in the sensitive flesh of my breast. “I don’t want to die a virgin.”
“So this is how good girls like you get off. Does being used in the middle of the night like a worthless fuckable hole turn you on, Lisichka?”
My thoughts are confirmed when he stares at me over his shoulder, his eyes still in tune with the night, tapering and shimmering with that mystic darkness. If anything, they appear more unhinged. “Come back when you’re ready to be fucked properly.”
That dull, maybe not so dull, person has gotten herself the worst type of attention. Mine.
Only I am allowed to do that.
“Do you often dream about kissing and dry humping me, Lisichka?” “I d-do not.” “Your stuttering and quick reply don’t play in your favor.”
“No wonder you like to be chased when you touch yourself this gently. How about I show you how it’s properly done, Lisichka?”
“You look so innocent, but that head of yours is a fucked-up place, Lisichka. My fucked-up place.”
“You’re addictive. I want to break you.” Thrust. “Own you.” Thrust. “Mark you.”
“I’m not your property, Jeremy. I’m a person.” “My person,” he nearly growls the words. “Next time you let anyone touch you, I’ll fuck you in their blood and make you come all over their corpse.”
“I’m not a nice man, Cecily. I won’t pretend otherwise, or I’d be doing you and myself a disservice. What I am, however, is someone who’ll slaughter your demons one by one until you’re finally free of them. I’ll touch your scars until you normalize them and can live with them, because they’re part of what makes you who you are.”
Cecily Knight is the calm in a loud, chaotic world.
“Kim, love, where’s my grandfather’s hunting shotgun? I found some bastard on our doorstep who claims to be our daughter’s boyfriend… Oh, here it is. Be right back. I’ll shoot him and come back in time for dinner.”
I thought I was saving her, but it turns out, she was saving me from my own unresolved issues.”
“I won’t hurt you, Cecily.” I tug her away so that I’m staring at her tear-streaked face. “You’re the fire to my icy heart, and while I loathed that at the beginning, I soon came to the realization that I can’t survive without that fire. My feelings for you are nowhere near conventional. They’re neither proportional nor measurable, and that heart you melted and the emotions you provoked belong to you. I’d rather be smashed and broken to pieces with you than be whole without you. I’d rather remain a beast for you than become a man who has to survive without you.”
“I never liked to keep anyone close because I loathed and dreaded the idea of being left behind. But I’d fall for you over and over again if I had the chance for a redo.”
