Page 352 of Primal

“It’s just exhausting trying to please everyone sometimes. Pretty sure that headache before Sunday dinner is the only thing I don’t fake.”

“That’s the Chardonnay talking.”

“Nah,” Lana says softly. “That’s the ‘me’ they’d send to therapy.”

I wince. “That bad?”

“Worse. But I’ve found … outlets.”

“You mean that guy?” Kristy teases.

“Krav Maga.” Lana flexes her hand. “Turns out I’ve got a killer right hook.”

“Wow. Self-defense classes, huh?” Kristy grins. “Does this mean I finally get to see you in those tiny MMA shorts?”

Lana flicks a pistachio shell at her. “I wear sweats, you degenerate.”

“Yeah, you own, like, four silk blouses and a skirt that legally qualifies as a belt.” Kristy turns to me. “Remember when she wore heels to that frat party sophomore year?”

“The mud pit incident,” I deadpan.

Lana scoffs and sips her wine. “Enough about me. Can we get back to the actual crisis here?”

“Right, right.” Kristy giggles and turns to me. “You need a distraction, babe. Something so good it kicks the heartbreak right out of your spine.”

“I don’t need a distraction. I need a lobotomy. Or his balls in a blender.”

“Oh, come on.” Kristy slings an arm around my shoulder. “Time to reclaim Slut-O-Ween. Let’s do something fun.”

“Mmm …” Lana sets down her glass. “I can’t. Already got plans.”

Kristy shoots her a knowing look. “Oooh. A date with Mr. Teaches-You-Things?”

“More like a date with many.”

“Sounds like either an orgy or a cult.”

Lana’s smile is lazy, secretive. “Maybe both.”

“Details … now.” I throw a pillow at her.

She snatches it mid-air. “Fine. There’s this place. The Verge.”

Kristy frowns. “What, like a bar?”

“Nah. It’s a place out in the woods. Most of the year it’s low-key. Kink retreats, bondage bootcamps. But Halloween? That’s when the Hunt happens.”

I blink. “The what?”

“Ever heard of primal play? You get a safe word and a head start. Then the hunters are released.”

Kristy nearly drops her wine. “Hunters?”

Lana nods. “Professional Doms. Men wearing masks from iconic horror movies. You run. They chase. If they catch you … well. That depends what you’re into.”

I swallow. “Wait—like Ghostface?”

“Ghostface, Jason, Michael Myers, plenty more.”