AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Instead of bothering to respond, Dom pulls me close as the slow song continues. His arm snakes around my waist, holding me firmly against him as he leans down and whispers, “I don't ever want to see another man's hands on you.”
A molten heat licks down my spine at his words, and I struggle to maintain my disapproving expression. Part of me wants to push him away, to scold him for his caveman behavior. But another, more primal part of me, is thrilled at his possessive attitude. His confession feels almost…permanent.
We sway together, the tension between us palpable. I'm acutely aware of every point where our bodies touch–of the warmth of his hand on my exposed lower back and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. The rest of the crowd fades away until it's just us, moving gently to the music.
“What will happen now?” I whisper against his shoulder, too nervous to let him see the vulnerability in my eyes. “This whole Ball business is over and done with…Will you go back to New York soon?”
I feel his body stiffen ever so slightly, the hand on my spine clenching into a tight fist before relaxing again only a second later. “I haven’t figured out the details yet,” he mutters into my hair. “My father has been threatening to send a hunting party if I don’t return to the company soon. But who knows…Maybe I’ll sell my shares and leave. Or maybe I’ll take over and you can come and join me, you wouldn’t have to work anymore if you didn’t want to.”
My jaw almost hits the floor at his suggestion, my lips gaping open with an audiblepop!I’ve barely sorted out my own feelings about everything that’s happened between us, and he’s been thinking about us living together in the future?
“Dom… I, um, I don’t know what to–”
“There you are!” We spring apart as Melanie’s shrill greeting almost bursts my ear drum. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Dominic! We need your help judging the costume contest. I’m sure I must have mentioned it to you!”
Dom stares at her blankly, his expression betraying nothing of the fierce annoyance I know he must be feeling. “I'm not interested.”
But Melanie, the ever-persistent first daughter of our humble town, doesn't back down without a fight. “Oh, come now. You're our generous sponsor! Judging the contest is part of your role.”
I bite back a giggle at Dom's obvious displeasure. “She's right, Dom,” I say, unable to resist the urge to tease him a little. “You should go help.” I don’t feel like adding that I’m not quite ready to iron out the details of whatever future he’s supposedly envisioning for the two of us.
The glare he shoots me could melt reinforced steel, but I simply smile innocently in return. With visible reluctance and a grumbled goodbye, he follows Melanie, leaving me alone in the middle of the dance floor.
As I watch him disappear into the crowd, I can't help but feel my amusement overshadowed by something deeper, more visceral. Even as I threw him to the wolves–or rather, to a simpering Melanie–a part of me already craves his return.
Turns out I’m royally fucking fucked, I guess. Surely, I’m not about to pack up and skip town for this guy… I wouldn’t do that… Would I?
The swirling possibilities bounce off the inside of my skull until a dull ache has formed at my temples. I decide I desperately need some air, though that’s as far ahead as I can think right now. Slipping away from the raucous crowd, I make my way through the entrance hall and out into the frigid night.
The grounds of Fairchild Manor are eerily quiet compared to the bustling party inside. Moonlight casts long shadows across the overgrown lawn, and a light mist is rolling in from the woods beyond. It’s not a cornfield, but still a very ideal setting for a horror movie. It makes me smile–but it quickly fades.
As if on cue, I spot a figure in the distance, creeping out from the enormous shadow cast by the manor itself. They're shrouded in a hooded cloak and wielding something that glints in the bluish glow of the moon. For a split second, my heart races with genuine fear, my muscles seizing with the memory of the last couple of times I’ve seen a figure suddenly appear on this estate. But then I remember that I’m at a fucking costume party, andhundreds of people here are cloaked and masked. I chuckle to myself with a shake of my head.
Whoever it is gets steadily closer, before pausing on the grass maybe twenty feet from me and raising that shiny object in the air. It’s a meat cleaver. Or, at least, it’s probably afakemeat cleaver, not unlike the one that Dom chased me through the house with that day we ended up in the library.
I hope this mystery person doesn’t expect a similar happy ending.
I snort at the thought and raise my hand to wave, ready to congratulate the guest on their costume. But they don’t wave back. They just stand there, as if they’re watching me from beneath that hood. The silent face off lasts long enough that I start to get a little uncomfortable…
Why the fuck are they out here in the grounds instead of enjoying the party inside? And why are they just standing there instead of saying hi? Everyone in this town knows each other…
“Alright then,” I mutter to myself, turning to make my way back inside and leave whoever it is to their creepy vigil.
But the moment I take the first step, the mystery figure launches into a sprint. Heading straight for me.
“Nope!” I yelp, long since sick of being chased around this damn place. I shoot back toward the house, my heels sinking into the grass with every laborious step.
I barely make it a few feet before they tackle me, a small shriek bursting from my lips as I fall to the damp ground.
“What the fuck?” I shout, wriggling furiously until I can flip onto my back and shove the asshole off. In the scuffle, their hood falls back, revealing a grotesque rubber mask of a snarling man dripping in blood.
It takes me half a second to notice the erratic tufts of gray hair sticking out from all over the guy’s head. “Cornelius?! Is thatyou?”
“Got you good, didn’t I?” his gleeful chirp seeps from behind the mask. “Beware of the Butcher! Ha ha ha! Happy Halloween!”
He scampers away too fast for me to plant my foot between his legs, leaving me raging in the damp grass. “If there is mud on my dress, I will cut a bitch,” I grumble to myself as I clamber to my feet.
The adrenaline soon drains from me, leaving me exhausted and my feet aching from trying to run in stilettos. With a low groan, I begin a slow dawdle back towards the front of the house, remembering that I left a pair of flat ballet pumps in Dom’s car for this exact reason.
