Page 67

I don’t think I’ve ever cussed this much in my entire life.

Another laugh bubbles out of me at this situation.

I’m laughing to myself, when suddenly, a hand closes around my waist.

My laugh morphs into a scream.

My body was pulled backward before I could take another step, my back hitting a solid chest again.

I grabbed at the arm around me instinctively.

He didn’t release me.

“Let me go.” I say to him, my breath making my words stutter.

I couldn’t see him.

Or us because of the position.

He of course doesn’t say anything.

Where did he even come from?

I was backed into mirrors?

Unless…..

They had a trap door.

Fucking psychos.

I try to step forward and the hand clasped around my waist tightens and I’m pulled back into his frame.

Why was he not letting me go?

Why are they breaking the rules?

I glance down at the stamp again.

The waiver?

The chasing.

The grabbing.

Fuck.

What if that was in the waiver?

Realization dawns on me.

The actors weren’t breaking the rules.

I’d agreed to them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

His chest doesn’t move at all.