Page 15

fourteen

Safe and Stoned

four days later

Whitney

What Would You Do?: City High

I t has been raining since the moment we arrived, a relentless drizzle that has transformed the ground into a muddy swamp over these past five days. Dark gray clouds loom above us, enveloping us in a suffocating bubble of gloom and despair. Our days blend into a monotonous routine: we awaken—often in the morning or afternoon—light up, review safety protocols, do some more smoking, eat, watch TV, fuck, eat, and then smoke yet again before drifting off to sleep. While this stripped-down lifestyle is undeniably relaxing, it has become painfully tedious, and at this point, I’d almost rather take my chances in the city; I'll welcome the thrill of facing my stalker who’s still at large.

Lux and Donovan haven’t had any more encounters with the masked man, and there’s been no sign of any disturbance at my apartment. Everything appears to have settled back to normal. But can it truly be called normal? Is he lying in wait, ready to pounce as soon as I’m within his reach? Most likely.

Today, the thunder rumbles ominously in the distance, rolling endlessly across the sky, accompanied by flashes of lightning that seem to stretch on forever. Even muffled by the music and TV, the thunder resounds loudly, startling me with each crack.

Reclining on the couch, my head resting comfortably in Havoc's lap and my feet cradled in Crow's hands as he massages them, I flip through the limited channels in search of something captivating to watch. Nothing catches my interest in the way I want it to, leaving me yearning for a distraction from the overwhelming chaos that has consumed my life these past few days.

The aroma of pot hangs heavily in the air, a dense scent that lingers like a well-used air freshener, with the amount of weed we've been smoking. Havoc is rolling a small joint now, delicately sprinkling a touch of cocaine over the weed before wrapping it in the thin paper.

Outside, darkness settles around us again, and the rhythmic tapping of the rain becomes a soothing melody, calming my restless nerves that race chaotically with no fucking end in sight. As he sparks the joint, I inhale deeply, savoring the fresh scent of burnt weed, my gaze locked onto Havoc as he lifts his mask just enough to slide the joint between his lips, taking an impressive drag.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, his voice steady as he expects me to obey.

I comply, shutting my eyes tightly, and I can feel his warm lips brush against mine. His fingers grip my chin, holding it firmly as he kisses me, exhaling the smoke from his hit into my mouth. Just as we lose ourselves in the haze of our smoke-filled kiss, the oven timer dings, prompting Crow to leap up, inadvertently dropping my feet back onto the couch.

“Brownies are done!” he exclaims, bursting with enthusiasm like a child in a candy store over his homemade pot brownies.

“Ooh, could you please bring some milk too?” I pull away from Havoc, opening my eyes and barely catching sight of him as he quickly covers his face with the mask again.

Throughout our time together, neither of them has ever removed their masks. I initially thought they simply took their roles with Masked Mayhem a little too seriously, but with everything that has unfolded lately, I’m left questioning if there's more behind their reason. What are they concealing? Why do they insist on hiding? Will they ever reveal their true selves to me?

My head begins to throb from all the unanswered questions, so I sit up and apply pressure to my temples, hoping to ease some of the ache behind my eyes. I can feel Havoc’s eyes on me, but I don't turn to engage him. As Crow sings in the kitchen, cutting and plating the brownies, Havoc takes the opportunity to slide closer, leaning in to claim my neck with soft, sensual kisses. His fingers dance up my thigh, slipping between to tease me, and because of the way it feels, a quiet moan escapes from my lips, making me forget all about the throbbing in my head.

I lean back, my head resting against the top of the couch, parting my legs to welcome him without speaking. He takes the hint and turns me, hovering his body over mine while trying to smoothly slide my shorts off to give him access to the area he wants the most. I prop my feet onto his shoulders as he dips his head between my legs, subtly sliding his mask to the top of his head without showing his face.

The moment his lips connect with my skin, a rush of warmth floods through me. He kisses a path along my inner thigh, igniting a fire that dances just beneath the surface. I tangle my fingers in his hair, barely able to control the soft moans that slip from my lips. There’s something tantalizing about this, the air thick with anticipation and the sweet haze of smoke. My mind drifts briefly, questioning why I crave this connection with someone equally cloaked in mystery, but the thoughts dissipate with each downward stroke of his mouth against my pussy.

His breath feels like fire against my skin as he bites at it, growling and leaving mini vibrations that surge through me like wildfire. His tongue curls around my clit, and he gently tugs at my piercing, forcing an arch in my back that makes me claw frantically at the cushions for something to cling to.

"Your legs are shaking," he says, laughing with his mouth against my pussy. "You like when I eat this pretty kitty, don't you?"

I moan, and he takes it as a yes, diving in deeper with his hands pushing my thighs down to the couch to keep them open. After teasing and sucking on my clit, he licks a line along my pussy lips before pushing the tip through, easing slowly inside me and making the arch in my back even higher. My headache isn't even an issue anymore as I feel the muscles in my stomach tighten, pleasure flowing through my body, straight to my core. His movements are a mixture of thrusting and blowing his breath on my clit, and I can't help the quivering in my legs as he presses them firmly into the couch.

Since I can't move my legs, I lock my thighs around his head and grind against his face, the friction of his tongue and my movements bringing my climax to the edge, and a mixture of gasps and moans begins to slip from my lips louder than before.

"Mmm, that's it, Little Mischief. Moan for me. Moan my name as you come all over my tongue," he growls against my pussy, his tongue already lapping up the wetness he's coaxed from me.

"Havoc," I moan, my entire body stiffening. "Yes, don't stop," I beg, feeling like I'm about to tumble rapidly off the edge of desire.

"I'm not, baby girl. I won't stop until you're fucking shaking. Until your cum is all over my mouth—until I've sucked every fucking drop out of your tight, little cunt," he promises, and it's enough to send me barreling the rest of the way over the edge.

Pleasure explodes through my body, and I can feel my pussy clenching around his tongue as he fucks me with it, slipping his fingers inside me for the fun of it. I keep rocking my hips, riding out my climax by riding his face. He slurps and sucks my cum out of me as it begins to soak him, just as he promised, and by the time he's sucked me dry, my legs go limp around him and my body drops to the couch.

“Hey, I need some help with the brownies!” Crow calls from the kitchen, somehow oblivious to the electric tension building between us, but just in time to not disturb us.

The sound of his laughter breaks the moment, reminding me of our absurd little bubble of sanctuary amidst the storm outside. Havoc pauses momentarily and slides his mask back over his face, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes darkened with desire. There’s a teasing glint in them, a promise of more to come.

“We’ll be right there,” he calls back, his voice low and husky.

The urgency of his tone is met with an eager chuckle from Crow, who remains unaware of the other kind of warmth simmering in the room. Before I can protest or fully comprehend what’s happening, Havoc stands, seamlessly pulling me to my feet.

He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear, “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

My heart races at the suggestion, a thrill of anticipation swirling within me as I nod, barely trusting my voice. He lingers by my side, one hand still resting at the small of my back as we walk into the kitchen. Crow is busy arranging the brownies on a plate with a dollop of ice cream on top. The aroma of chocolate and weed whirls in the air, enticing and rich, wrapping around my senses like a comforting weight. I can’t believe how easily the atmosphere shifts back to normal, laughter bubbling up over our sneaky memories and mischief.

“Just wait until you taste these,” Crow beams, placing the plate down and reaching for the milk. “They’ll blow your fucking mind."

“Like the first time I blew smoke into your mouth?” Havoc asks, shooting me a cheeky glance as he fills three glasses with cold milk.

I chuckle, the tension of a moment ago dissipating, replaced by a playful banter that feels necessary. Maybe we aren’t completely surrounded in darkness at the moment. The warmth of our bond, like the brownies and milk, feels almost... comforting.

As we settle down at the small kitchen table, I steal glances at both of them. My curiosity about their hidden faces has not faded, but I sense the bond we’re forming runs deeper than appearances. Crow’s laugh is contagious, and Havoc’s subtle winks make my heart skip, even in this mundane setting.

The rain continues to patter against the window, and for the first time in days, I start to feel a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. Just as I reach for a brownie, the familiar buzz of my phone pulls me from the moment; a single message lights the screen. My heart drops as I see the sender. The stark reminder of my reality cuts through the haze, the dark clouds looming not just outside but also in the recesses of my mind.

I fucking see you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.

I feel the world tilt, the laughter of Havoc and Crow fading into a dull roar as panic escalates within me. They notice my expression shift, and suddenly their playful demeanor evaporates, replaced by concern and confusion. I can’t help but see it—their masks—more than a facade but also barriers, veils hiding their true selves, all while keeping me sheltered from the storm of my own fears.

“Havoc, Crow,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I think—there's something I need to tell you.”

The air thickens with tension, the casual atmosphere of the kitchen shattered by the weight of my words. Havoc’s and Crow's eyes morph from lighthearted to serious in an instant, their masks suddenly feeling like a shield between us and the reality that refuses to fucking let me go.

“What is it?” Crow asks, his brow furrowing. “You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”

“This message,” I stammer, my hands shaking as I hold up my phone for them to see. “It’s from him.”

The blood drains from their faces, and for a moment, silence reigns, broken only by the relentless sound of rain drumming against the windows.

Havoc leans in closer, his voice low. “What does it say?”

I read the message aloud, each word feeling heavier than the last, as if it was physically dragging me down. “I fucking see you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.”

A sense of dread wraps around me, tightening like a noose. I can see Havoc's and Crow's minds racing as they process the implications. It’s not just a threat; it’s a reminder that the stalker is still out there, lurking in the shadows of my life like a spider waiting to weave its web.

“Okay,” Havoc speaks, his tone steady, though I sense a tension simmering beneath the surface. “We need to act fast. Lux and Donovan—”

“... Are still on the lookout,” Crow interjects, his eyes darting around the room as if the masked man could jump out of the shadows at any moment. “But we can’t just sit here. We need to come up with a plan. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

I shake my head, panic clawing at my throat. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to block it out. I thought… I thought maybe if I stayed here long enough, he would forget about me, but he didn't.”

Havoc reaches for me, his grip firm but gentle on my shoulder. “You’re safe here. We’ll keep you safe, I promise.” His words are comforting, but the stark realization hangs in the air: it’s not just me I have to consider. The threat bleeds into their lives too.

“What about the police? Should we report this?” Crow suggests, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

“No,” I say quickly, recalling the countless times I’ve tried to get help before. “They’re not going to take me seriously. They didn’t before.”

“Then we do it our fucking way,” Havoc replies, determination igniting in his eyes. “We’re not waiting for the police to make this shit right. We’ll figure this out ourselves.”

The tenacity in his tone revitalizes me, fueling a spark of hope that reminds me I’m not as alone as I believed. Crow begins to pace, his mind clearly racing as he devises a plan.

“We need to monitor the area around your apartment. If he’s watching you, we’ll catch him in the act. Lux can help; he has contacts who are good at this.”

“They already are, Boston told me. But what about here?” I gulp, my heart pounding in my chest. “What if he knows I’m here?”

“Then we’ll keep you distracted until we set up a strategy,” Havoc assures me, his voice steady. “You’re one of us now, and that means we fight together—not alone.”

My heart swells at his words, wrapping me in a blanket of belonging. I had forgotten what it felt like to stand united against my fears, to have someone fighting in my corner instead of fighting me. And despite the dark circumstances that brought us together, I find a new, unlikely solidarity forming.

“Okay, I’m in,” I finally respond, resolve filling my voice. “What’s our first step?”

Crow stops pacing, his usual exuberance replaced by fierce concentration. “You need to ditch that fucking phone; he probably has it bugged and is tracking you with it. For now, sit with Havoc and eat your brownie; it'll calm you down and put your mind at ease."

He snatches my phone out of my hand and breaks open the back to get the SIM card out, walking into the living room to toss all the broken pieces into the fire beside the battery.

The flames lick hungrily at the remnants of my phone, a finality to each crackling sound echoing through the room as if severing the last advantageous connection to my stalker, an odd mix of anxiety and relief washing over me. With the phone gone, I feel both liberated and vulnerable, the reality of my situation settling like a weight on my chest.

“Now what?” I ask, taking a deep breath to steady myself as Crow returns to my side.

The warmth of his body against mine feels grounding against the turmoil swirling outside, echoing a similar tumult in my mind.

“Now we eat,” he says, nudging a plate of brownies in front of me, the aroma still deliciously enticing, despite the grim circumstances dragging us deeper into uncertainty. “And think. You need to gather your strength for what’s ahead. Believing in a tangible plan is what we need—also, these brownies will help with the anxiety,” he grins, his usual zest for life returning as he chews.

I take a tentative piece, the chocolate melting decadently on my tongue as my nerves slowly start to settle. The bittersweet flavor reminds me of the fight we’re about to embark on; it’s a reminder of the sweet moments amid the bitterness of our reality.

“So, what do we know?” Havoc prompts, his voice low and commanding. “What are his patterns?”

“I don’t know,” I begin, licking the crumbs that linger on my fingers. “He’s always been random, but he definitely knew my schedule when I was at my apartment. It’s like he was waiting for me to let my guard down…” I trail off, the memory of his watchful gaze sending a chill racing down my spine.

“All the more reason to switch up your routine. No more predictable patterns. We’ll stay close, and Crow and I will take shifts monitoring the perimeter, plus Lux will have eyes on your apartment,” Havoc suggests, leaning closer, radiating authority and confidence. “And when we can, we’ll search for any vulnerabilities around your area that could help us gauge if he’s around.”

“What if he’s already here?” My voice wobbles slightly, the weight of the implication crashing over me. “What if he’s watching us right now?”

“Then let him fucking watch,” Havoc growls, the fire in his voice igniting a flicker of defiance in me. “The more he tries to intimidate you, the more we plot. He doesn’t know the shitstorm he’s about to face. You’ve got all of Masked Mayhem behind you.”

Encouraged by his conviction, I nod, feeling a rising sense of courage swelling with each shared promise. “Okay, I can do this. I’ll change my routine; I can be the decoy.”

“Decoy?” Crow asks, eyes widening in hesitation.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll lure him out. If he thinks I’m isolated. I can still go out, right?”

“No,” Havoc responds with authority, silencing the room. “You won’t be bait. That’s too fucking risky. It puts you directly in harm’s way.”

“I need a distraction too,” I contest lightly, wanting to assert some control over the plans being formed, still wary of being kept in a bubble under their protection. After all, I’m not fucking helpless.

“Fine,” Crow interjects, his brows knotted in thought. “But we won’t let you out of our sight. If there’s a chance to draw him out, we’ll come up with a safe plan. One that ensures you’re not alone or vulnerable.”

“Maybe we could work together to find a way to draw him out without putting you in danger,” Havoc says slowly, his eyes narrowing in concentration. “A fake number, something that we can trace, something along those lines. He’s clearly fixated on you, so we could use that to our advantage.”

“Yes,” I say excitedly, hope flaring. “It could work. Just long enough to get him to show himself.”

“Okay, good. I also don't think it's beneficial for us to stay here if he knows you're here. We're sitting ducks, and I'd rather have King and the others to help us out if we need it.” Havoc moves to retrieve his phone and a burner from the other room, its screen flickering to life under the dim light.

As they work through the intricacies of the fake account, I feel a sense of unity settle over us—a shared determination, a promise to reclaim my life from the shadowy figure that had disturbed it.

The storm carries on outside, but here, in this small kitchen surrounded by smoke and laughter intertwined with fear, I no longer feel isolated. The darkness still lurks, but I find solace in their presence.

My heart swells as I take the chance to reassess my surroundings—this strange little sanctuary hidden away from the chaos, the two masked figures beside me who had taken it upon themselves to battle my demons. I can’t deny it: there’s something intoxicating about the thrill and the danger of it all.