Page 6 of The Invite (The Massacre Ball #1)

Nessa

“What are you doing?” I demand, finding my voice.

It sadly comes out in a tremor.

Suddenly, I don’t feel like a teacher anymore.

I become the helpless girl I was last night.

The events of yesterday crash in my mind like a movie reel.

Hiding behind a tree, dashing and getting caught, the mind fuck and sinful touches.

All of it repeats and plays in a loop. Especially being saved by the angry girl that showed up.

A detail that completely slipped my mind during this whole traumatic ordeal.

She sounded upset and betrayed and strangely, unafraid. How is that possible? Instead of calling the cops or running for the hills, she yelled and confronted them. Not because she wanted to help me, but because she was jealous.

How preposterous and confusing.

A rich, spicy, and cedarwood scent wafts my nostrils, yanking me out of my stupor. I blink and jolt backward against the unforgiving desk when I find myself staring into midnight-colored and fathomless eyes.

How is he so stealthy?

Up close, too close , he’s gorgeous and deadly. His even breaths tease the top of my head, ruffling the short hair and ghosting over my forehead to the top of my lips. I mistakenly lick the corner of my mouth and his laser-sharp focus zooms in on the tiny movement.

He steps closer, invading my personal space.

Like it’s his to conquer and violate.

In his head, he probably believes he has every right.

Devil. Predator. Hunter. Psychopath. Insane.

He’s a combination of all the worst qualities to have. Worse, he wears them like a second skin. Even worse, he unmasks that side in front of me. During our class, he behaved ordinarily, withdrawn and bored as he scrawled in his notebook.

The switch in his personality is concerning and disturbing.

“It was you,” I accuse, when he stays quiet and towering over my frame. “You and your friend, Maverick.”

“Yes.”

One clipped syllable, admitting the truth, and zilch.

No apology, no explanation.

Complete silence.

“Aren’t you scared?” I hate how I’m stuck between his behemoth of a body and the desk against my hip. One tiny movement will bump me against his chest and I don’t want any part of me touching him. “I know your names and faces now.”

Nothing changes in his expression. He lifts one perfect brow, and asks in a neutral tone, “Are you going to make a complaint?”

“I plan to.”

“What’s your proof?”

“My words.”

His lips twitch at my naivety. “Little prey, it will be your word against mine, and you will soon find out that—” He bends low intimidatingly while I ignore the tremor rocking through me as he calls me little prey . “—my word is the law.”

“I’m not scared of you,” I bite out, infuriated at his blatant threat. “I will stand up for myself. Besides, I have a witness. So, it’s not just my word.”

“The girl who interrupted us?”

An interrupter for him and a savior for me. “Yes.”

“All you heard was her voice. Last I checked, you don’t know who she is. What she looks like. Or if she’ll stand by you.”

“I found you; I’ll find her.”

Again, his lips tilt in amusement. “You didn’t find me, you got lucky.”

“She must be from this school too. I will find her.”

Searching my eyes, and the contours of my face, he speaks only after leaving me flustered. “Good to know you being ballsy wasn’t a one-time thing. Do you remember my warning regarding it?”

Tone it down.

“Is threatening and bullying your teacher wise?” I bravely ask.

His face screams it’s a foolish question, his voice dripping to a low timbre. “You being my teacher changes nothing.”

“I’m not a helpless victim you cornered last night. I have the power to make your life hell now.” One I intend to exploit to full capacity.

“Ballsy but stupid,” he taunts. “Tell me, what will you say to whomever you’re thinking of complaining? That I chased you in the woods, scared you, captured you against your will?”

“Yes. All of it.”

“Really?” he hums, caging me with his fists on the desk behind me. “Will you also tell them that despite it all, you secretly enjoyed it so much that your tight pussy got wet and you rode my fingers until you were desperate to come?”

His words reverberate down my spine, my breasts, and tingles shoot down to the wet heat between my thighs. Their intensity is so powerful and wrong that my pussy beats a pulse of its own.

The rest of my limbs shake in fright.

“It’s called sexual assault and I’ll tell them the same.”

An evil glint darkens his remorseless gaze. “Maybe I’ll respond by saying you orchestrated it all, wanting to fuck your student , desired more from me, but I refused because it is wrong, and now you’re threatening to ruin my life by falsely accusing me.”

My face pales at the devious wheel turning in his head. I pathetically stammer, “I-I’ll tell them you’re lying. I didn’t know I was going to be your teacher.”

“The details won’t matter. The world will believe what they want to believe. It thrives on drama and lies, never the truth. Your reputation will be ruined, you will lose your job, and the only predator between us will be you.”

“No, they’ll believe me.” I hold my stance, refusing to cower and be scared by the likes of him. “They’ll see what a manipulative psychopath you are.”

“Are you sure?” he counters. “You’re new and a nobody in this town, teach. You have no idea where you are. You have barely sunk your toes in a place you have a lot to learn about. Don’t go making enemies just yet.”

The alternative is walking the same halls as him, watching his smug face every day in the class, knowing he’s holding last night over my head and being worried sick about the next time he and his equally psychotic yet sarcastic friend corners me.

I’m torn because he’s right on multiple counts.

I am all alone, with no family or support system to speak of, which he doesn’t know.

But it works in his favor. The way he’s insinuating this tells me Fallthorne isn’t the quaint little small town I believed it to be.

It also hasn’t escaped my notice the air of untouchability around Augustus. It’s part of his aura.

Showing up late in class.

No fear of consequences.

What I think is arrogance isn’t that at all. It’s just who he is at his core. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Vicious. I wonder what led him to become this man who has no sense of boundaries.

Am I willing to go to a battle against him? Do I have a chance of surviving?

I barely did in the woods, and that’s only because he got distracted.

An oversight he won’t ever repeat.

While I’m contemplating all this, he’s observing me carefully. A sudden thought strikes. He’s mindfucking me again, letting me think he’s giving me an out when it is actually a trap.

I’m not just falling, I’m tangling right into it.

Steeling my spine, I lift my chin daringly, and reply, “I think I’ll take my chances.”

A surprised gasp slips past my lips when he plasters himself to my front. His patience is gone. Large hands span my hips and stretch me up to my toes.

I’m assaulted by his scent, filling my nostrils in thick gulps as he bends an inch from my trembling lips, confessing, “You don’t know this since you ran, and make no mistake, I would’ve caught you again if it wasn’t my choice to let you go.

So, what you missed is that there was a huge misunderstanding.

You stumbled on what was a staged act, which you ruined, and that girl will confess the same.

Even if it were the opposite, she’d still say whatever I told her to. Except, it will never come to that.”

I’m unable to think straight with him pressed against my soft curves, much less process the enormity of what he just said.

A misunderstanding? A staged act?

My breathing deepens as I utter, dumbfounded, “What?”

“Primal play, honey,” he explains, his fingers tightening playfully against my flesh. “Masked men hunting a beautiful, innocent girl through the woods and making her perform indecent and filthy acts is a high many women chase these days. Mav and I make them come true, for a price.”

Oh my god.

Everything clicks into place. The mystery behind the girl being upset is now uncovered. They thought I was her and it’s why they kept toying with me. Does this mean they were never going to hurt me?

It was all an act.

The profound relief overwhelms my chest.

But wait… they still would’ve kept going and eventually fucked me without being aware they were raping me. A simple case of mistaken identity would’ve cost me my life. This is a dangerous game they’re playing.

No matter the explanation, it all went sideways, and he just expects me to let it go? Chalk it up as a misfortunate accident and move on?

Why else would he be confessing this?

First, he tried to blackmail me, and now this.

I shove him back, feeling nauseated, but his physique is like a mountain and he doesn’t budge. “I wasn’t her.”

“I know,” he admits, running a knuckle down my cheekbone. “Your fight and fear were too real.”

Fear the size of a storm cripples my body. I would be on my knees if it wasn’t for his strong grip. I lurch back in a fickle attempt but get nowhere.

I see it in his sinister eyes that he wouldn’t have stopped last night and still, I ask in a whisper, “Still you didn’t stop?”

“The reality is always better than the fantasy.”

“You’re disgusting!” I accuse. “I was right for calling you all those names. You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you get away with this after your confession.”

“Does this mean we aren’t going to finish what we started last night?”

He jokes.

He actually fucking jokes!

My mouth opens and closes, and this time when I shove him backward, he steps back with a small smirk playing on his full lips. The top has a Cupid’s bow and is thinner than the bottom. And somehow it’s masculine and inviting.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t diminish the fact that he’s a monster.

A menace to society.

“Don’t look so appalled, Miss Nessa,” he says darkly.

“You were going to come on my hand. Had that girl not interrupted, you would’ve come on my dick too.

Now that I’ve smelled your fear and tasted your sweet flavor…

” My eyes circle wide, and he rasps. “Yes, I could smell and taste you on my fingers long after you were gone. It has awakened a craving for more, which is bad news for you because I won’t stop until I’ve satisfied it completely. Only then will I be done with you.”

My eyelids snap shut in fear when he leans over.

His scent washes over me but nothing but air touches me.

When I open my eyes, I see him straighten with his notebook fisted in his hand. I didn’t even realize when he placed it on my desk. Rooting me to the spot with a look full of sinful vows, he turns and walks out.

I pant, bending at the knees, and ponder for a way out of the crosshairs of a determined and cunning monster.

When I catch my breath, my vision clearing, I turn to collect my things, when I catch sight of the torn paper he left for me. With trembling fingers, I lift it and almost drop it after seeing the erotic, haunting, and stunning black-and-white sketch he drew.

It’s of me bound and tied to the tree, dressed in last night’s clothes.

My neck arched and eyes staring into the silhouette of a man shrouded in darkness.

His forehead touches mine while one of his hands is underneath my skirt. He’s skillfully captured every single emotion painted on my face. The palpable fear, helplessness, arousal, yearning, confusion, and… euphoria .

A part of me wants to crush and tear the piece of paper into shreds.

But it becomes physically impossible.

Instead, I ball it and stuff it into my purse. That’s when my fingers connect with something and when I yank it out, it’s nothing short of a light at the end of a dark tunnel.