Page 245 of Primal

“Can you tag me on Insta?” Amanda asks.

“Sure, let me just …” Kristy frowns. “Huh, no signal.”

“That’s weird.” I lean in to check. “I was talking to my parents when I got here. Got a couple texts too.”

Kristy holds her phone higher. Lower. Then sideways like she’s playing some demented game of signal Twister. “Yeah, one of my students tagged me earlier.”

I raise a brow. “Your students could see how you spent your Halloween?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ve got Miss K for the kindergarten crowd—wholesome vibes, finger painting, that one time I dressed as a carrot for vegetable week. And then there’s my private account.”

Amanda perks up. “What’s on that one?”

“Regrettable life choices. Point is, the kids won’t see me doing body shots off a skeleton—if it comes to that tonight.”

Amanda groans. “Wish I was back in kindergarten.”

Kristy slings an arm around her. “Welcome to grown-up recess. The playground’s cursed and the monsters are hot.”

The trailer door creaks shut behind us.

Kristy tucks her phone away. “Well, ladies, time to get our money’s worth. Screams, trauma, maybe an orgasm or two.” She shoots me a cheeky look. “Or for Payton, three more and a commemorative T-shirt.”

I smile. “Why stop at three?”

Amanda clutches her elbows. “Maybe we shouldn’t split up?”

“Relax,” Kristy says, adjusting her neon shorts with far too much confidence for someone who’s got bark burn on her ass. “If anything, the guys are more afraid of us. Especially if Payton’s bringing home her own Ghostface on a leash, like a sexy psycho puppy dog—or whatever it is you want to call a dude who gets off on stalking his neighbor with a knife and a hard-on.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I roll my eyes.

Amanda straightens and starts to walk off. “Guess I’ll go find the snack table.”

She pauses. Looks at me over her shoulder and waves.

I give her an apologetic half-wave back. Sorry, not sorry. You wanted a night of monster-mashing, so go get some.

She disappears into the dark.

Kristy wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Is someone thinking about round two?”

“Shut up. Gonna go find my backpack.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

We bump fists.

“Which is nothing,” I say.

“Exactly.” With a wink, she struts off, her neon shorts a beacon.

I follow the trail of discarded glow sticks. Every rustle makes my pulse spike. Every shadow could be him—or something worse.

Kade.

Has he found my backpack? Is he waiting for me? Or did he move on to fresher prey?

A sound slices through the silence. A moan? Maybe a whimper. Came from the thicket to my left. Human. Female. The kind of sound that shouldn’t make my stomach tighten, but—