Page 90 of Horror and Chill

I’m still tangled in the cord when Kylo reaches down and pulls me up, one strong tug like I weigh nothing. He hugs me, brief but tight, mask still on. Then he’s gone, slipping out of the room without a word.

Chad grins at me, scrolling through the previews on his screen. “Lots of shots. We’ll have a stack to pick from.”

I giggle, tugging the boa back around my shoulders. “Good. Just pick one. You’re the pro in that area, not me.”

He chuckles, already half lost in the pictures. “Trust me, we’ll make you look like a goddamn scream queen.”

I dress quickly; fishnets rolled down, bra hooked back, leggings tugged up. The Ghostface mask goes back in the bag, glitter still clinging to my fingers.

Then, I’m gliding down the stairs, the smell of wood polish sharp in my nose. Out the door, across the lot, into my car.

And the whole time, my head won’t shut up. Thinking about the shoot. Thinking about them. How the hell do I even bring this up to them? Why do I even care?

It’s always been me. No fucks given. Not since I left my parents. No one dictates what I do, what I film, who I am. Not anymore. But the thought won’t leave. I do need to make sure they know one thing; Kylo is off-limits. They can’t touch him. Not one hair on his head.

Because if they do, it won’t just fuck me. It’ll devastate Lorna. And I can’t let that happen.

38

Corwin

My phone buzzes.Two words. Her name on the screen.

I snatch it up like it’s oxygen.

The message in the group chat she created is short, clipped, but it slams into me harder than a fist.

Little Horror: Don’t touch Kylo. Don’t even think about it. I mean it.

My jaw locks. I read it again. And again. My chest burns. Behind me, Garron leans over the back of the couch. “Who the fuck is Kylo?”

Evander flicks his lighter open, the flame catching his eyes. “Yeah. Who the fuck is that?”

My thumbs move fast, rough against the screen.

Me: Who’s Kylo?

Her reply comes almost instantly.

Little Horror: He was in my shoot today. Lo brought him in. It was nothing.

Nothing. She really typed that.

Garron barks a laugh. “So she’s letting other men in the room with her now?”

Evander’s voice is quieter, but sharper. “She wouldn’t warn us unless it mattered.”

I type back, knuckles aching.

Me: No promises.

The dots appear, vanish. Appear again. Then her message slams through:

Little Horror: LISTEN TO ME YOU DAMN PSYCHOPATHS. HE IS LORNA’S PARTNER. HE IS OFF LIMITS. SHE IS MY BOSS. THEY ARE HAPPY AND IN LOVE. SHE SENT HIM IN SO IT WOULDN’T BE ANYONE ELSE.

Another bubble.

Little Horror: IF YOU TOUCH HIM YOU’LL FUCK EVERYTHING UP. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? SHE IS MY FRIEND. HE IS ONE OF THREE OF HER MEN. HE WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. JUST A FAVOR.