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I tug on the hairy mask. “I’m not sure your skin will thank you for doing a workout in this.”

I pull it off his face and throw it onto the couch.

Maybe this is how The Unseen have managed all these years. With multiple different masks from movies. I mean,how did he get these all ready in time if it wasn’t for that?

“Okay, what about this one?” He pulls on a thin plastic mask with thick Xs across the eyes, which glow in flickering neon red. The lips appear to be sewn shut. It looks terrifying. My core tightens despite.

“It’s a little scary. I’m not sure the viewers will go for it.”

“Well, we can try, see how it is, and then review?”

He pulls the mask up so it’s resting on his head, his hard jawline and thick stubble replacing the horror of the mask with another unsettling feeling. Which is really the mask? He’s different from what I have imagined. He’s calm, soft, and caring. He acts like he longs for something he can’t have, and deep down, I feel like it could be me. But he’s still the monster I’ve heard so much about. He murders, steals, and hurts with a level of cruelty I can’t possibly imagine.

“Why are you doing this, Austin?” I whisper.

He stares at me for a moment, uncertainty flashing across his eyes. “Surely you know...” He drops his chin, his thumb brushing over my cheek. His eyes are burning into mine, imploring me. With just a touch and a look, he commands my entire body, my entire being. I lean in, as if I could even stop myself.

“Say my name again for me,” he murmurs, his lips a breath away from mine.

I swallow, my eyes closed, entranced by the smell of him, the taste of his breath, the heat overcoming my body. My other senses have taken over, leaning into the assault his very presence has on them. Like an addict, I crave more, knowing that indulging it may ultimately kill me. I can’t seem to care now. Maybe not ever. Not as long as he continues to cradle my face and look at me like he might drag me down to the depths of hell with him.

“Austin . . . I . . .”

“OLIVIAAAA FROM BOLIVIIAAAAA! Where are you?”

My eyes snap open, and I seize Austin’s wrist and tug him to the back of the house.

“Where are you?” My brother’s voice hollers out of the hallway. I hear him shuffling out of his jacket and slipping his shoes off, no doubt leaving them in the middle of the entryway.

“Olivia from Bolivia?” Austin chuckles as I snap open the basement door and push him toward it. Once again, I feel the warm muscles of his chest pounding as my palm pushes against him, urging him into the basement. Why am I always trying to lock this guy up?

“Shhh . . . get in there, please.”

He steps back but his hand stops me from closing the door. In a low growl he whispers, “Keep it open, Killer.”

I nod, but push the door so it’s open by an inch. His silhouette haunts the exposed line, and I retreat toward the living room with a finger pressed to my lips. The head of thesilhouette moves slightly in confirmation.

“Danny, you could knock, you know.”

“Livvy llama, what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I hesitate, hating to lie to my brother. “I’ve just been working.”

“Yeah, you work too much.”

“Says you! I’ve not seen you in weeks.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “You got anything to eat?”

I huff. I’d really rather not do this right now, although it is nice to see him in one piece.

“Come on...I know I’ve been a bad brother. But I’ve come to make it up to you. I have a good meeting with the boss next week. He wants to run through some of my ideas to make us more modern and really lean into the social media side, like you.”

“Really?” I can’t help but glance at the basement.

“Yeah, looks like he’s coming around to pushing us toward the twenty-first century. The old man even knows how to edit a video now, thanks to me.”

He’s bragging, but how could he put his business on social media? My mouth parts slightly, my brow furrowing as my brain kicks into overdrive.