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The mask slips over my face, and I take a minute. Looking at myself in the rearview mirror, breathing slowly. A red curl pops out, and I tuck it back inside. There’s no more Beckett Colby right now. He’s the party-boy still at Delta Tau, laughing with Gavin and Tyler about breaking rule ten and fucking his roommate. I pull the edge down until it covers my neck, then tug on the thick gloves.

Now, I’m ready.

Chapter 12

Ira

Tonight, there’s more of a skip in my step—a little bunny hop. I’m not worried about freezing my tail off in the snow when I can hear Beckett’s sneakers crunching behind me every single step. The inside of my mask smells like dried blood from where I bashed the crap out of my nose, but…

I’m just too fucking happy.

The shivers rolling over my arms are from excitement, not temperature. Especially when Beckett’s gloved hand grabs my wrist and pulls my back against his chest.

“Shh,” he whispers into my ear.

“Wha—”

He clamps a hand over my mouth, under the bunny mask, and my face is so warm I could stay here forever. I’ll happily melt into a pool of giddiness right here, right now. They can scrape my remains off the grass when the snow melts.

Then I hear a car crawl by.

The backyard we’re in is dark, but not pitch-black. The moonlight reflecting off the snow makes the world look monochrome, and I hold my breath as I listen to someone driving by at a snail’s pace.

He lets go of my wrist and loops an arm around my waist instead, his heart ricocheting against my back like it’s going to jump out and tap dance on the ground. His glove tastes like leather.

We stay completely frozen, listening.

The engine stops, and then police sirens flip on, quick and fast. They shut off less than five seconds later.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I squeeze my eyes shut and hold onto Beckett’s arm, digging my fingers into his heavy black jacket. My whole body’s trembling.

“It’s okay,” he breathes. I can barely hear him over the wind. “Be ready to run if I let go.”

All I can do is nod, straining my ears for any noise.

The sirens happen again, chirp chirp, then cut off a second time. A door slams shut, and I can hear the cop running over snow—it sounds like they’re heading right to us.

“What are you guys doing out here?” a woman shouts.

Beckett tenses, and his arm tightens around my waist. If he’s not letting go, I’m not going anywhere. I can listen—I’m really, really good at taking direction.

Then I hear other voices. A group of people, maybe our age. I can’t make out what they’re saying, though. The woman responds, but she’s not shouting anymore. I hear someone laugh, and I relax against Beckett’s chest.

Holy crap.

That was so scary.

His arm slowly releases, and he leans his cheek against the top of my head, his chest moving too fast.

“We’re okay, bunny.”

I smile under his hand and let go, too. Bunny is better than rabbit by a long shot, and it sounds cute. Rabbits are the older versions, best served in stew.

Hopping over to the back door, I slowly turn the knob to one side, then the other.

Locked.