Page 42 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Colton

There's a sort of calm before the storm as I wait for the others in the locker room.

I'm going to kill my girlfriend.

I'm going to be a statistic.

Thankfully, my alibi is solid. I was nervous, even if I'd never let on as much.

If I was going to spend my life in prison, it wouldn't be for murdering Audrey Graves.

She isn't worth the energy it would take to kill her, and I wouldn't do this if it weren't a collaborative effort, a way to keep Marley safe and free her from whatever hold Audrey's got on her.

Maybe it's sad that I'm more apathetic toward her than anything else. It would be easier, maybe, if I hated her. But I don't hate her, because as fucking annoying as she is, she's not worth the time it takes to say her name.

Since she came to Serenity Hollow, she's been nothing but a leech.

She clung to Marley first, then Jake, then me.

I can't imagine what it will be like to be free of her, once and for all.

She's been particularly obnoxious since she kicked Jake to the curb, which I can only assume is because she's not getting laid anymore.

I don't think our quick fucks where I take her doggy style do anything for her.

They only do something for me because I can pretend she's Marley, and as long as she keeps her fucking mouth shut, I can come apart to the thought of one day when it is Marley, for real.

We may have magic working to help us get away with murder tonight, but we still have to take precautions to make sure that we don't leave unnecessary evidence.

It's why I strip down to don the costume, setting my clothing in my gym bag and tucking it out of the way.

A pair of black leather gloves will help obscure fingerprints; we all have the same pair.

When Tripp and Rev walk in, I'm sitting on the bench, staring at the mask I've chosen for tonight. It's not lit up yet, but once I turn it on, it will glow neon colors. It's disorienting more than terrifying, which is fine by me. I need Marley disoriented.

One day, she will figure it out that we killed her best friend while she was feet away, completely oblivious and completely helpless to stop it.

Mark will distract her just as long as it takes to get rid of Audrey, and while I'm jealous it can't be me who has her to myself before she finds her best friend dead, I am also grateful.

I've never claimed to be a good actor; I'm not sure I can muster up the grief that Marley will expect to see from me. Or the shock, for that matter.

"All good?" Rev asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Peachy." I roll my eyes.

Tripp huffs a laugh and throws his bag down, pulling out his costume.

I haven't dressed up for Halloween in seven years; wearing a costume feels ridiculous, which is why I went for the path of least resistance.

We all had to run our costume ideas by Whit, since they needed to be able to blend in with actual workers, who apparently don't use the locker room except for before the haunts start and after they end.

They're expected to be 'on' for the three-hour duration of terror night, which works to our advantage since there's not a bunch of random people milling about to see us.

Tripp's costume is a simple choice; he pulls out the hockey mask and smirks.

He's tall, but not nearly bulky enough to make a convincing Jason. But when he slips out of his V neck and stands for a minute, I realize he brought more. I also realize Rev's eyes are glued to him, appreciatively.

"I might have a mask kink." Rev announces, nipping at his lower lip. "Put it on real quick?"

Tripp looks up at him in surprise, abandoning the shirt he was getting ready to start slipping on.

"What?" His eyes cut to me before they turn back to Rev.

I should probably act uninterested in whatever the fuck is going on between them, but something about the headiness in Rev's voice has me intrigued.

He's definitely had eyes for Tripp before, and maybe I'd have clocked it as suspicious if he didn't have eyes for everybody.

But something has shifted between them, and suddenly it seems as though Tripp is returning his interest.

"Let's see it." I shrug, watching as Tripp's eyes widen to panic.

"I..."

"Please?" Rev pouts, and Tripp laughs, rolls his eyes, and relents.

He puts the mask in place and stares. When he speaks, his voice is muffled behind the plastic.

"Happy?"

"Fuck yes." Rev laughs. "Mask kink affirmed. Hot."

"I might have a mask kink, too." I say.

Tripp's head whips toward me, the dark edges of his hair falling over the mask and curling against it.

"Maybe you should do something about it, Rev."

"Should I?" Rev muses, his eyes flicking from me to Tripp, who I can only imagine is pale beneath that mask, afraid of actually doing something.

It's not really any of my business, but it's maddening watching him stay celibate because he thinks so much as kissing someone other than Marley would be a betrayal.

"You should definitely do something about that." I use the tip of the prop knife to indicate the bulge in Tripp's boxers, which is sizeable.

I've seen Rev's cock more times than I've ever cared to, playing sports together for years, but I never could have guessed that Tripp was working with that.

"Can I?" Rev asks, stepping toward Tripp slowly at first.

And then he moves quickly, confidently, closing the distance between the two of them so that Tripp seems to shrink against the wall as Rev eclipses him.

And yet, I notice he doesn't make a move. He asked for permission, and he waits for it, his hand out, fingers twitching as they wait to skim against Tripp's erection.

"Touch him." I say, surprised to find that the words or the thought of them are doing something to me too.

I'm not attracted to men. I'm not attracted to them. But I am attracted to the chemistry between them, to the palpable tension, the longing, the desire that they're both too fucking scared to act on.

"Tripp?"

Rev's voice is low and husky, and clearly not meant for me when he asks, "Do you want me to?"

"He wants you. You want him." It's obvious, so the fact that they're dancing around one another is ridiculous.

But Tripp doesn't speak; he just holds Rev's gaze, so I decide to take matters into my own hands... literally.

"If you want something..." I tell them, drawing up behind Rev and running my touch down his arm, "Then all you have to do is reach out and take it."

Tripp groans when I shove Rev's hand against his cock, and I hear Rev's sharp breath, the desperation, the need to have what's so close. I keep my hand over his, helping him grind his palm against our best friend's cock.

"Fuck..." Tripp groans again, and to my surprise, there's no fear or resignation in his voice. Just unchecked pleasure from something as simple as a little over the clothes touching.

When I pull my hand away, Rev's stays. It stays, moving slowly over Tripp's crotch as I step back to take them in.

To be honest, I don't know if I've got a mask kink or if this is just hot all on its own, but I know I want it to go further. This is the most intense arousal I've felt in ages, since before I quit breaking into Marley's house to watch her sleep.

"You like me touching you like this?" Rev asks. "Imagine how good it would be without clothes... with my mouth wrapped around your cock."

A strangled sound leaves Tripp's throat as he tilts his head back, soaking in the pleasure.

"Imagine how good it will feel when I swallow you so deep that you control my air. Imagine how amazing it will be when I get to taste you on my tongue."

Fuck.

I definitely didn't expect this, and now I'm hard with nothing to do about it. I could whip it out here and take care of myself, I suppose, but I have a feeling that would spook Tripp into stopping, and that's the last thing I want.

Unfortunately, it's what happens, because the door opens and Tripp shoves Rev away like he's burned him, clearing his throat as we turn to take in Whit.

He's already dressed in the black robe similar to what he's already been wearing to our culty little sessions. The sleeves on this one are ragged, just like the bottom of it. It kind of fits like a dress, and I decide that his costume doesn't do anything for me at all.

"The midnight hour is almost upon us." Whit says, completely oblivious to the fact that he walked in on the middle of something loaded.

"It's ten forty-five." Rev says coolly.

"Right. Which means, they're going to be in line for the last house now. Mark texted that they were headed there just before I came in here."

He picks up the Michael Meyers mask Rev left atop his bag, tossing it through the air at Rev, who catches it easily. "It's show time, boys."

I went to one of these haunted houses last year. I know how they work, with curtains and facades, smoke and mirrors that make it easy for the workers to move around the house unseen, so they can show up around any corner and crevice to try and terrify you. That's the whole point of the place.

This house was set up to connect to the existing theater, which shows presentations three times a day. It's a walking show, so there's nowhere to sit as Whit and I go to the stage to wait for the final act of Audrey's reign of terror.

Tripp and Rev go ahead, to earlier in the maze, where they'll wait and watch and play their parts, doubling back to us before Marley makes it to the final room.

I wonder vaguely if they're going to take advantage of the chaos of the haunted house to continue what they started earlier; I’m surprised to find I'm jealous at the thought.

Fuck, watching them touch each other surrounded by fog and strobe lights and with the heavy music in the air.

It would be hot, like watching a performance just for me.

Distantly, I wonder if I should be concerned that I'm fantasizing about watching two men have sex, but I decide I don't care. I like what I like; namely, my friends.