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“Excuse me, I wanted to act out my fantasies on Halloween, okay?” I retort, throwing my hands up in mock offense. “This was supposed to be our perfect night of pleasure, for fuck’s sake, and it is—”
Shattering glass cuts me off mid-sentence and a yelp escapes me. We both whirl toward the window next to the bed, where shards now litter the floor. Framed in the broken window is a figure wearing what looks like my blue neon mask, with crosses where the eyes should be.
The gall of this motherfucker.
Pure instinct takes over. I grab Vivian’s forearm, pulling her behind me, using my body as a shield between her and the intruder. My heart hammers against my ribs, but the fear is different now—not the childhood terror of darkness, but the adult fear of losing someone you can’t bear to lose.
“On the count of three, we run together out of this shed, okay, Viv?” I whisper, my eyes never leaving the masked figure who’s now trying to clear the remaining glass from the window frame.
“Yeah,” she breathes, her hand finding mine and squeezing it tight.
I intertwine our fingers, the sensation grounding me despite the danger. In this moment, with her hand in mine and a shared threat looming, the lines between kidnapper and victim, between fantasy and reality, blur into something else entirely—something I don’t have time to examine, but that feels strangely like destiny.
“One...” I count, my voice steady despite the fear churning in my gut. “Two...”
The masked figure starts to climb through the window.
“Three!”
Chapter 7
Andrew
This is NOT primal play. I want a refund.
We burst through the door like we’re shot out of a cannon, the cool night air slapping against my face and sweaty clothes as we tumble into the darkness. My heart’s drumming a fucking death metal blast beat in my chest, and all I can think is get Vivian away, get her safe. Behind us, the masked figure scrambles through the broken window, his movements jerky but determined, like some nightmare creature from a horror film I’d watch with the lights on and sound muted. Don’t judge me; I like Halloween and everything about the vibe of the season, but I can’t deal with horror movies.
“Don’t let go of my hand!” I shout, holding her hand tightly in the darkness. The moonlight catches on her auburn curls, making them gleam like burning copper as she whips her head around to stare at me.
“What the hell?” she hisses, her voice a mixture of panic and indignation that somehow manages to be sexy even as we’re running for our fucking lives.
“Don’t start being a prude now,” I throw back, my Welsh accent thickening with adrenaline. “Not after what we did at the riverbank an hour ago. Your mouth was—”
“Oh my God, I was not reacting to that. Just shut up and run!” For a split second, she pulls her hand away from mine, but then immediately interlaces her fingers with mine so tightly it almost hurts.
We sprint through the trees, the forest floor a treacherous maze of exposed roots and fallen branches. My lungs burn with each ragged breath, and Vivian’s breathing matches mine, quick and desperate. Behind us, branches snap and leaves rustle—the unmistakable sounds of pursuit.
No, this is not sexy. And no, I don’t like this kind of primal play. I want a refund!
I pull Vivian to the right, away from the direction of my car. It kills me to move farther from our only reliable means of escape, but the masked freak is between us and the vehicle, and I can’t risk him swinging at her. My legs pump harder, the muscles in my thighs burning with exertion.
“Fuck!”
Vivian’s hand is suddenly ripped from mine as she stumbles over a root, hitting the ground hard. I skid to a stop, doubling back to her in an instant. My heart nearly stops when I see her on all fours, momentarily stunned.
“Come on, cariad,” I pant, hooking my hands under her arms and hauling her to her feet with more strength than finesse. “No time to rest.”
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she gasps, but there’s no real venom in it as she grabs my hand again, her grip even tighter than before.
“Last time I checked, I’m helping you!”
“You know what would have helped?”
“What?”
“Not kidnapping me!” Her voice carries frustration that I can understand, but I didn’t plan for a weirdo to be out in the woods.
We take off once more, weaving through the dense trees. Ahead, a clearing appears, bathed in moonlight—a wide open space that would make us easy targets. Without hesitation, I yank Vivian to the left, pulling her deeper into the cover of trees.
