Page 112 of Make You Mine

The combination of pain from the headbutt and the surprising knee jerking allows me to escape as he stumbles back. Grunting gibberish in that deep voice, while holding one hand to his forehead and one to his balls.

I smile and get up, satisfied with my own doings. I’m not so weak after all.

My head is killing me, though. I think I’ve got a concussion.

I press a hand tight to my forehead, while I pull down my underwear with the other and toss them aside, leaving the psycho behind.

I sprint to the second floor without looking back. I’ve got to find Kayden, but I made Devon mad. So, first, I have to lose him.

He won’t take long to catch up.

32

MADELYN

“That was the stupidest thing you could have done, Madelyn,” the deep voice calls out in the distance.

I tug at a piece of fabric guarded by a glow-in-the-dark skeleton as a white row of lockers is revealed underneath it. I get under the fabric and cover myself with it.

It’s a medium weight which means the visibility from behind it isn’t great, but it’ll do for now. If I stay still and control my breathing, I may have a chance.

While waiting for my stalker to show up and teach me a lesson, I do what I should have done before I walked in irresponsibly. I take out my phone, now at twelve percent battery, and dial Kayden’s number.

It goes straight to voicemail, and my heart sinks.

If he did something to Kayden—if he got to him—I swear I’ll⁠—

Metal screeching brings a lump to my throat and interrupts every single thought.

He’s here. Near. And despite my minimal visibility, I see him. The glowing mask and…something else.

I’m rooted to the lockers behind me. The metal is digging into my back, but I don’t care because that sound wasn’t just anything.

Squinting my eyes, I get my answer. He’s got a knife, and he’s running it along the lockers in front of me. The blade glints in the darkness.

He’s going to slash through the entirety of the decorations to get to me.

He gets to the end of the row and stops. I observe him, holding my breath.

Soon, he approaches my side of the lockers.

“Come out, come out.” Devon’s deep, machine-generated voice sing-songs as he saunters this way.

The edge of his blade is pressed against the metal of the lockers, sending a shiver down my spine.

I don’t move.

I close my eyes and suck in my stomach, praying, hoping that even if he slashes through me, he’ll barely touch my skin if I’m standing like this. Maybe it’ll just be a thin line on my stomach, not enough to draw much blood.

He isn’t going to kill me, is he?

One second, two seconds, three seconds. No matter how long it feels I’m waiting, the moment doesn’t come.

Where did he go?

I open my eyes and jerk back, flattening against the lockers.

Neon red Xs—complete with a stitched smile—stare deep into my soul through the black fabric. They’re so bright that it’s easy to spot them.