by James Tate
I tugged on Bree's hand, ignoring Beetlejuice's grip on my arm as I urged her past me on the outside, away from Beetlejuice's leather–jacket–wearing friend. It was dark enough that I couldn't make out what patch he wore, but it didn't really matter. They were both bad fucking news.
"What did you hear?" Beetlejuice demanded, shaking me a bit and getting up in my face. His friend just watched. Uncaring.
"Nothing," I snapped back at him. "We were just getting out of here. Some bad shit is going on in the big top."
Beetlejuice sneered, and the leather-jacketed dude snickered. Like they already knew and were happy about it.
"Let me go," I said, my voice firm. "We didn't see or hear anything, and we honestly don't care. There's already one dead girl in this park, and a whole ton of witnesses. This place will be crawling with cops any second now."
Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze suspicious before jerking a nod. "You saw nothing," he snarled, the warning clear as he released me with a shove. "Dumb bitches." This was muttered to his friend as he dismissed us from his presence.
I walked a few paces, not wanting to run while they could see me, but gave Bree a look that practically screamed hurry your ass up!
"Wait." That one word hit me like a lightning bolt, and my whole body tensed, my foot frozen in the air. "Don't I know you?"
It was the other guy speaking, and his deep familiar voice sent chills down my spine. He was closer now; I could feel his intimidating presence looming behind me. He was near enough that I could smell the leather of his jacket. He could simply reach out and break my neck if he wanted to.
Panicked, I made a snap decision.
"Bree, whatever you do, don't stop until you get to the car. I'll meet you there." I said this under my breath, but the glare I gave her silenced any protests she might have. "I mean it," I assured her. "Fucking run."
She gave me a tight nod, her eyes brimming with fear and determination, then kicked off her heels and disappeared into the night.
"Fuck this," Beetlejuice snapped, and his footsteps quickly faded in the opposite direction. But only his. My creepy shadow hadn't budged an inch.
"Yeah," he murmured, his breath stirring the hot pink strands of my hair. "I thought I recognized that ass. Now what is a girl like you doing in West Shadow Grove, Madison Kate Danvers?"
I didn't run after Bree because I wasn't a fucking idiot. There was no way I'd outrun this guy in what I was wearing. And now that he knew who I was, he wouldn't just stand back while I took off either.
Instead, I did the only thing that came to my mind.
I spun around and punched him right in the face.
2
Pain exploded in my hand, and I stifled a scream as the guy fell backward with a dumbstruck look on his face. I wouldn't get another opportunity like that, so I'd damn well better not waste it.
"What the fuck!" the guy roared, but he was shouting at shadows because I was long gone.
My heels clicked against the pavement as I ran, and I cursed my choice of footwear for the thousandth time inside my head. Bree had been smart to kick hers off, but my boots would require me losing precious seconds to unzip them and wiggle my feet free.
Footsteps pounded somewhere behind me, and I held my breath, ducking inside the fun house, and then froze. I was safer staying hidden, staying silent, than randomly sprinting through the park.
"Give it up, little princess," my pursuer shouted from somewhere way too close. “You're not getting away that easily."
Fury underscored his voice, and fear sank into my bones. I'd escaped because I’d had the element of surprise, but I wouldn't be so lucky a second time.
"Madison Kate," he called out again, closer. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
I stayed silent, frozen dead still.
His boots crunched on dead leaves, and I held my breath. He was so close. So freaking close.
Any second now, he would find me. He'd find me and drag me back to the Reaper's clubhouse and...
Panic flooded my system, and I made a dumb decision.
My brain screamed at me not to move, not to give away my hiding place, and hope that the leader of the Shadow Grove Reapers didn't find me.
But my body reacted like a startled rabbit, so I ran.
A shouted curse came from behind me, but I didn't spare a second to look. I knew who it was, I knew he was chasing me, so why the fuck should I need to look?
Deeper into the fun house I ran, ducking and weaving between obstacles and grotesquely aged mannequins, but still those heavy boots followed.
Something moved ahead in the shadows, and I swallowed the scream of terror clawing at my throat when a spring-loaded clown popped out in my face. I ducked under it and kept going, desperate to locate somewhere to hide, somewhere that Zane D'Ath couldn't find me.
Strong hands grabbed me from the shadows, and a blood-curdling scream spilled out of my throat, only to be muffled by the hand clamped over my mouth.
Instincts kicked in, and I slammed my elbow backward as hard as I could, making my captor grunt with pain, but his grip didn't falter as he dragged me into the shadows. I thrashed, fighting against him but pausing when I heard his voice again. Zane.
"I don't have the time or patience for this, Madison Kate," he shouted, his voice echoing but... not coming from behind me. Who the fuck was holding me captive?
My terror kicked up a notch as I realized there was more than one person lurking inside this fun house, and I stomped hard on my captor’s instep, attempting to break free. When it didn't work, I tried to slam my heel up into his groin—only to have him trap my ankle between his legs instead.
"What the fuck?" His curse was a muffled whisper, and instead of loosening, his grip around my waist and over my mouth tightened.
"Shut it," someone else whispered, and I damn near leapt out of my skin. Even though the sound was soft, it'd clearly come from a man. So that was three. Three men, all undoubtedly a whole lot bigger and meaner than me.
I was so fucked.
"Keep her silent," the second man breathed, his breath warm on my cheek from how fucking close he stood. They'd dragged me into an area of the fun house that was pitch black. I couldn't see a fucking thing, and it was taking every inch of my self control to hold back the bone-shaking fear running through me.
What kind of idiot hides in a fun house when they're terrified of small, dark spaces?
"Easier said than done," the guy holding me whispered back, his voice pitched equally quiet. There was no way Zane would hear them, and I wasn't sure I wanted him to. So far these two hadn't hurt me... The same couldn't be said for Zane D'Ath. "Fucking bitch just tried to nail my balls."
Boots scraped over hollow wooden floors farther into the fun house, and I jerked against my captor’s grip. Whatever they wanted, it wasn't to safely escort me to Bree's car. I'd take my chances with the demented, moth-eaten clowns and shit.
"Quit it," the guy in front of me growled, and I got the distinct impression he was towering over me. I fucking hated when guys did that. Like their height automatically made them so intimidating.
"Fuck you," I tried to snarl, but it just came out as a few muffled noises, which only served to enrage me. That was good. Anger was good. So much more useful than fear.
"Madison Kate," Zane called out again, clearly not giving up so easily, "I know you're still here. I can practically smell your fear. Where are you hiding, little mouse?"
My anger drained out in an instant, and I practically cowered into the guy holding me. I'd changed my mind. Anyone had to be better than Zane D'Ath. It was no coincidence his surname was literally pronounced death.
"Gag her or something," the bossy guy in front of me said, his voice still pitched softly enough that no one but me, my captor, and the skeletons could hear him. "Just do whatever it takes to keep her quiet and out of fucking sight."
A sudden displacement of air and a cool breeze told me he'd moved away from us. Seconds
later, a little door opened, illuminating the tiny space we were in, and a broad-shouldered guy in a hoodie squeezed out, back into the main fun house.
He didn't fully close the door behind him, and the light was enough for me to gain my bearings. Grabby hands had pulled me into an area that must have been used by staff and actors, and the little door must be a false panel in the mirror maze.
For a moment, everything was still. The guy holding me seemed to sense I wasn't going for his balls again, and his grip loosened just a fraction, allowing me to put my foot back on the floor for balance.
"You're not going to scream, right?" he asked me, whispering the words directly into my ear. "If you scream, we can't help you. You're on your own."
My spine stiffened, bristling at the implication I needed their help. But... I did. And he’d just said they were trying to help me...
A shadow passed in front of the cracked door, and I sucked in a gasp, swallowing the sound even before my companion tightened his hand over my mouth.
"Just fucking chill, Madison Kate," he said, sounding annoyed as all fuck.
Who the hell was he? Did he know me? Or was he just repeating my name from Zane's taunting?
Inside the mirror maze, shadows seemed to swarm the room, even though I knew they were just reflections of that first one. Or were there two now? Fucking fun house. Why had I decided to hide in a fucking fun house?
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" Zane snarled, addressing shadow one. Or two. Or... fuck, I had no idea. As freaked out as I was, I kept my focus on the maze room. It was either that or acknowledge the tiny space I was being held in. And if I did that...
"Whoa, calm the fuck down," my captor hissed in my ear. I hadn't even noticed that my breathing had spiked to just this side of hyperventilation. But that was what small, dark spaces did to me.
Fuck.
I tried to focus on that small crack of light, the small promise that I wasn't stuck, despite the tall, strong guy holding me. But it wasn't enough. Without the distraction of running for my fucking life, the walls closed in on me and terror clawed at my throat. My airways started to constrict, and my breath came in ragged gasps through my nostrils.
"Shit," my captor cursed. "Hey, hey, stop that; you're going to give us away. Seriously, babe, calm the fuck down." Something in his slightly frantic tone took the sharpest edge off my panic. There was something more going on here.
Turning my head to the side, I tucked my chin against my shoulder and peeled his hand away just enough that I could utter two words.
"I'm claustrophobic," I whispered, my hushed voice drenched in fear and pleading.
With those two words, his hand dropped away from my face so fast it was like I'd imagined the whole thing. Except his muscular fore-arm was still firm across my middle with his fingers of that hand tight around both my wrists pinned together. There was no mistaking the fact that I was still his captive.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," he told me, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Just stay quiet a few more moments. Just until Zane is gone." His voice was still so quiet, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke. "Trust me, you don't want him catching up with you. Not tonight."
I gave a jerky nod. "I know. Why do you think I was fucking running?"
For all the steely sass in my voice, I was physically shaking. Tremors quaked my whole body, and although I'd been able to calm my breathing since my face was free... I was still in a small-as-fuck closet.
Deep voices rumbled from within the mirror maze, too muffled and quiet to make out their words, but it was Zane and the other guy. Bossy dickhead. They almost sounded... friendly? Familiar at very least.
"Who are you?" I whispered to the guy behind me, trying to distract myself while we waited. "Do we know each other?"
The guy huffed a small laugh, his breath warming my cheek. He shifted his grip on me, and although I was still firmly restrained, I could almost pretend it was an embrace. In fact, I leaned back into him a fraction, seeking some strength where my own was failing.
"Everyone knows you, Madison Kate," he told me, sounding amused and only half answering my question. "I like the new hair, by the way. Very eye-catching. Edgy."
I rolled my eyes in the darkness, but wasn't surprised by his answer. Everyone knows you, Madison Kate. Story of my fucking life, thanks to my father. A major investor and land developer in Shadow Grove, and totally pretentious asshole, Samuel Danvers the Fourth had forced me to stand beside him at countless events, parties, and ground breakings—the perfect, dutiful daughter filling in for her tragically deceased mother. What a crock of shit.
"It's temporary," I muttered, referring to my hot pink hair. I'd planned on wearing a wig for my sexy witch costume, but it'd been itchy, so I’d used a drugstore wash-out hair color instead.
The guy holding me made a small sound of amusement. "Of course it is."
That condescending comment irritated me, but I said nothing. Getting into an argument with this random dude in the back of a fun house while an actual, honest-to-fuck murderer was hunting me... just didn't sound like a good idea.
"Are you okay now?" he whispered after a few moments of silence. The sounds from Zane and the other guy had faded away, and I allowed myself a small amount of hope that I'd make it out alive.
I shook my head, clenching my teeth. Just by asking if I was okay, he'd reminded me where we were. With Zane D'Ath somewhere out there on the other side of the door, too... It was as close to my nightmares as it came.
The guy holding me shifted his grip again, this time only holding me against him with one arm.
"It won't be much longer," he assured me, his voice soft. With his other hand, the one no longer pinning my wrists together, he trailed his fingers down my bare upper arm. "Just focus on something else." My skin pebbled under his feather-light touch, such a stark contrast to the way he’d held my wrists. He reached my elbow, then started again from my shoulder.
I shivered, but this time it wasn't from fear. "This is your idea of a distraction?" I whispered back, trying and failing not to react. My voice was breathy, and I didn't think it was entirely from my near panic attack. So yeah, it was working.
He didn't reply immediately as his fingers started at my shoulder again, this time toying with a strand of my long pink hair. His lips touched the side of my neck, ever so lightly, and I damn near jumped out of my stripper boots.
"Shh..." He laughed lightly, then repeated the gesture, kissing my neck more deliberately this time while his fingers continued their teasing path down my arm.
Before I had time to wade through what the actual fuck was happening—or why the hell I was so totally turned on—the little door flew open, and I swallowed a scream.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the tall dude taking up the entire door frame snarled. The light was behind him, so he was just one huge shadow.
Somehow I got the feeling that question wasn't aimed at me.
My captor’s lips curved into a smile against the side of my neck, but he made no move to create space between us. "What you told me to, bro. Keeping Princess Danvers from screaming." He very deliberately kissed my neck again, then released his tight grip on my waist. "At least not in fear, anyway." His dark chuckle left no mistaking his meaning, and damn if it didn't spark excitement in my belly.
"Fuck’s sake," Tall-and-angry snapped, reaching out and grabbing one of my tender wrists to yank me out of his friend’s casual embrace. "Hurry up."
I wobbled on my heels but quickly caught my balance as he dragged me out into the mirror maze. Shadows danced over the reflective surfaces, distorting our multiple reflections in all kinds of scary-ass ways, but he seemed to know exactly where he was going.
"Hold up," the guy behind me called out just as Tall-and-cranky pushed open a heavy industrial door marked “Exit.”
"What?" Tall-dark-and-shadowed barked, turning back around and giving me the first glimpse of his face. His seriously jaw-droppingly gorgeous face. Black stubble dusted a strong jawline,
and a fresh bruise decorated one high cheekbone. His ice-blue eyes ran over me with a lightning-fast glance before dismissing me. His attention shifted over my shoulder, and he dropped my wrist.
I turned my head too, taking note of the handsome guy shadowing us. His hair was bleached platinum blond, shaved on the sides and long enough on top to be artfully messy. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his lips... those lips that had just been against my skin...
As if reading my thoughts, he reached up and dragged the zipper of his hoodie down, stripping it off to reveal nothing but smooth, tanned skin decorated with detailed ink across his chest and arms.
"Here," he said to me, ignoring his scary, blue-eyed friend. Instead, he draped his hoodie over my shoulders, indicating I should slip my arms in. He then zipped it right up to my chin and pulled the hood up. "That hair is sexy as fuck, but incognito is probably the only way you're making it out of here alive." He shot me a wink, and his friend growled an angry noise.
I bit back a laugh but didn't hesitate when the angry guy pulled me out of the fun house and into the frigid night air. In fact, I was pretty glad for the warm hoodie.
The two guys weren't running, but they were sure as fuck walking fast to get us out of the park. I needed to jog a bit in my cursed stilettos to keep from falling on my face. Blue-eyes had a death grip on my wrist, too, so I'd probably just get dragged along like a rag doll.
"Boo!" Someone wearing a bedsheet leapt out into our path, then cackled and ran off to join a handful of other "ghosts" hanging out beside the busted-up old carousel.
The guys with me barely even flinched, but I stumbled and would’ve damn near kissed the concrete if the angry one hadn't caught me and physically lifted me back onto my feet.
"Watch it," he snapped with a scowl on his sexy face before taking a left and leading us toward the old Ferris wheel.
Anger finally dominated my whirlwind of emotions, and I jerked to a stop, yanking my wrist free of his grip.
"What's your fucking deal?" I snarled back at him. "I didn't ask for your help, and you're acting like I'm some huge burden on you. Just fuck right off; I can get out of here on my own. Thanks." The last word was shot at the other guy—Green-eyes. I wish I knew their names, but they hadn't even dropped them when speaking to each other.