Page 16 of Hunt Me

I’ve gone and done it now, there is no way I am backing out. So on that thought I do a little twirl pulling my arms up around me as I spin.

‘I look hot, I know. No need for jealousy, sweetie.’

He doesn’t respond but the unmistakable sound of his teeth grinding against each other fills the evening air.

I fidget on my feet. Heat clawing up my limbs.

‘Anyone ever tell you you’re a little creepy,’ I ask as my feet move backwards, my heart beating loud inside the mask.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t attempt to follow my steps backwards; he just stares. I don’t even see him blink.

Sweat begins to cling at my brow. Fuck this mask is stupidly warm, how does he not get sick of it. My body feels too warm too.

It’s hardly even spring what the hell is going on.

I inwardly curse Amelia and the echoes of her soft motherly voice lecturing me about the lingering winter colds.

Fuck winter colds I’m about to sweat to death in a Skull mask for fucks sake.

Despite my discomfort, I don’t allow my gaze to wander from the Skull’s, not for a second. The black outline of the eyeholes of the mask framing the deadly man in front of me heightens my readiness for fight or flight.

How has he managed to shift his features from an intriguing, handsome, although slightly rugged-looking guy to a psychotic killer is beyond me. And so is the way he looks at me, like I’m his next meal — nothing but a promise of punishment in his gaze and a satanic smirk across his lips.

He knows I’m scared. It’s like he can smell it.

Adrenaline-laced fear races through my blood, the pounding of my heart urging me on, different to before.

I fill my lungs with oxygen, and on my third deep inhalation, I turn and run. My steps are sure and fast as I bolt into the building ahead of me, running as quickly as I can from the killer who is now behind me.

The killer whose mask I wear and who smells distinctly like home.

Chapter Eight

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Ruaridh

The absolute nerve of this body of mischief. Not only has she acted like a yo-yo. One second all mouth and sass, then the next little miss shy and innocent. But she has now taken my mask and bolted.

Then, because that wasn’t enough she had to go and put the damn thing on. And worst of all she looks good in it.

Too fucking good.

What did I do in return? Stand there like an dafty.

There was nothing I could think of doing, though. The only thing running through my head was to rip her clothes off, everything but the mask, and fuck her here out in the open.

Whatever expression I had on my face at the time must have spooked her. It was evident by the way she clutched at her chest and her wide doe eyes screamed run when she stared back at me.

It felt as if she had been looking straight into my soul.

Now?

Now, she’s running from me. Like she ignored everything I said earlier. Fuck knows what she thinks she’s doing. Probably up there, in the old museum running for her life. But she can never escape me.

We Skulls don’t have a reputation for being puppies and we aren’t known for being forgiving. She’s probably heard all types of shit about us. About what we are, what we do to those who cross us.

She’ll be scared shitless now.