Page 13 of Fright Night (Twisted Holidays #3)

TWELVE

OAKLEY

The event is in full-swing.

Although I’m busy as hell, looking around never stops making me smile.

Children with faces painted with every kind of animal and Halloween creature are happily flitting from activity to activity, their parents trailing behind while shouting for them to remain close.

Teens move in groups, laughing with one another.

The House of Mirrors is especially popular with them.

It seems everyone in town has come out tonight, and so far, no issues.

The event is well planned and executed and my team is doing amazing, ensuring the initial line-up to enter was managed fast enough that no one got overly frustrated waiting, while also not moving through them too quickly that they slammed the event in a mass rush.

The food vendors are selling like crazy, and every tent or activity I check on is managed without issue.

The maze is by far the most popular, which is why the blueprint for it is kept nearby in case a kid gets lost and needs quick saving.

I squeeze between two children in dinosaur costumes, my own fake fairy wings getting caught. My attention is entirely focused on the checklist on my phone and the path leading to the food booths when I walk into a wall.

A wall built like bricks with hands I’ve come to know all too well, that cup my shoulders to stop me in place, despite the heeled boot I dig into his foot. He doesn’t even flinch; just grins manically.

“Hey there, Trickster. Looking delicious. I should know, considering I’ve had your taste in my mouth all day. The fairy costume is an interesting choice, though can’t say I’m complaining.”

I’m immediately sucked back to last night, when Knox tormented me with so many near-orgasms, by the end it felt like I was going to physically combust. After all his cruelty, to leave me right on the edge and walk away …fuck him.

Hating him during it was one thing, but that hate lingered when, after the door slammed shut indicating he left my house, my hand couldn’t bring myself to orgasm for once. So desperate to come but completely shut off after his touch.

Betraying body.

“Get fucked,” I mutter beneath my breath.

Given the number of people around, no one needs to hear our typical fight.

Even Mom and Henry are floating around somewhere.

Or were at the start of this thing. Henry keeps boasting to people how “his daughter” is the “visionary behind this,” like it’s some sort of prize to be won.

He’d follow up the compliment by stating my “eye for design would be useful as eventual town mayor,” which made me literally cringe and hide when curious townspeople inquired how my training in politics is going.

Hearing Henry talk makes everything Knox said at breakfast yesterday morning more real.

I don’t want to be acknowledged for my events by someone who doesn’t truly care about them.

Which made me give the college and university brochures that were left on my coffee table an appreciative look-over this morning rather than toss them out, aware who put them there.

The duffle bag he also left in my spare room is another case entirely. Come garbage day…

“You look…the same,” I manage after another moment. Hook, line, sinker for him to discuss something else that isn’t my fairy costume.

Not to say his same isn’t also enticing. Ripped black jeans, a hoodie loose on his frame, with the hood pulled up. The same mask he continues to wear in my house sits on top of his head, ready to be slid down when he chooses to exact his vengeance on poor, unsuspecting co-eds.

“Figured you like me like this, so why not.”

“Why not indeed. Well, if you’ll excuse me…” I push into his hold, trying to break it, but he only moves with me.

“Great event, Oakley. Been here for hours and everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

His compliment makes me pause. It’s so rare kind words come from this guy’s mouth. They’re foreign and almost wrong, but warm my insides regardless.

“Based on that statement, I assume you’re behind the brochures and stuff in my living room?”

“Yeah, ’cause you’re done at City Hall after this. Live your dreams, Oakley, no one else’s. You truly have a knack. Especially love the maze.”

A better person would accept the praise and move on. Not believing Knox doesn’t have a deeper ploy at play, I scoff. “That sounded like quite a few compliments.”

“An acknowledgement,” he corrects, his finger coming up into the space between us.

Because Knox never does anything without reason, he bops me on the nose, the same way he used to, because pissing me off seemed to be his day job back then.

“Complimenting you would involve getting on my knees and showing you how much I’ve missed you, audience be damned. ”

Then he walks away, whistling.

An hour’s passed since Knox’s interruption and I fucking hate him. No more caring about his praise because the way he’s hovering, constantly causing me to peek over my shoulder, is exhausting and very much him. Wherever the flattery came from, it was a one-off.

Every booth, every corner, everywhere, he’s there , with his mask covering his face, like he has some weird magical teleportation abilities that gets him from one place to the next.

He doesn’t talk to me again—thankfully. But he’s present. Looming.

It’s enough to be unsettling.

Even Mom and Henry eventually find me in the crowd, and Knox is there, arms crossed over his chest and foot propped against the back of a food truck nearby as he regards the family moment he’s opted not to join.

“Great event, honey.” Mom kisses my cheek. “Everything’s so well done.”

“Thanks.”

Clearly they’ve decided not to mention brunch yesterday, and how this event was basically a central topic of Knox’s interruption.

Henry reaches forward to rest a hand on my shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I agree, Oakley. Very well done. Can’t wait to see what you do with the Christmas event. You’ll certainly have an appreciation for these things one day when you’re holed up in my office as the future mayor.”

As he takes Mom’s arm in his and leads her away, dread sinks my stomach. His compliment came with the conditions to keep working at City Hall without addressing what I said—what Knox pointed out.

Suddenly, everything I’ve been doing to stay on Henry’s good side feels pointless.

Before I turn away to return to work, my gaze finds Knox. Even with the mask shielding him, I imagine his frown quickly followed by an I told you so .

Finally taking a brief break, I slip over to the booth handing out free paper cups of water when his back presses into me, chin coming down to rest on my shoulder, so when he speaks, it’s a whisper tickling my ear that makes me shiver.

“You in this fairy costume is a damn sin. Every time some asshole looks twice at you”—his hands rest on my hips, slowly travelling to the mid-thigh hem of the chiffon lavender dress coated in glitter—“I want to gouge their eyes out.”

“Do it,” I challenge, reverting to banter instead of acknowledging my racing blood. “Do it, so when you return to jail, I can laugh.”

He hums against my throat; the sensation doing things to my insides. Things that are too R-rated for the setting, considering how many kids are around.

“You’d like that, so no. I won’t be going anywhere and leaving you again.”

That sounds like a vow.

“Mm, well, if you could amend that comment and leave right now, I need to get back to work.” Downing the water cup involves tipping my head, which puts my head onto his shoulder, countering my latest comment.

“You sure about that?” His hand sweeps my thigh, moving upwards to between my legs. “You’re the boss. Bosses need breaks.”

“There’s kids here, Knox.” My teeth slide together painfully as I wrench myself from his grip and turn, planning to never give him my back again. He has too much power in that position.

“Fine, fine.” He nips my neck. “See ya later, Trickster.”

He disappears into the crowd, and I know, it’s going to be impossible not to think about him.