Page 40 of Unmasking Mayhem (Behind the Mask Duet #2)

“Want a drink?” King offers, his demeanor deceptively friendly. I glance at the glass in his hand, suddenly wary of the possibilities it could hold as not-so-happy memories come rushing back to me.

“No, thanks,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m good.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if my refusal is unexpected. “Drink the fucking drink, Whitney. We’ve got some new faces tonight. You should mingle."

"Okay,” I say, unable to hide my discomfort.

There’s a hint of something dark in King’s voice, something that reminds me of nights I’d rather forget. As he moves away, I exhale slowly, quickly dumping my drink in the trash beside me, grateful to have some distance.

“That was… intense ,” I whisper to Boston.

“Intense is an understatement,” she mutters as she glances around. “What was he talking about with new faces? Do you think it’s another threat?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not about to let my guard down.” I take a deep breath, scanning the faces in the crowd. Familiar ones, but ones that also feel unsettlingly foreign now. Once friends, now potential dangers.

As we step further into the club, the music thrumming beneath our feet like a war drum, I realize I’m about to face not just the ghosts of my past, but the living nightmares I once thought I could escape.

And as two figures approach from the corner of my eye, I know that tonight is going to demand every ounce of strength I have left.

I can only hope that when the storm breaks, I won’t be washed away.

D and 13 come walking up just as Boston and I head to the dressing room before getting on stage, but neither one of us turns around.

Boston is allowed to go in, but I'm viciously yanked backward, stuck in D's grasp, and immediately fear begins to wash over me.

13 can't even look at me, and suddenly I know what's happening.

It's my punishment because I told Boston what happened.

I broke King's rule, and now I have to pay.

"Please don't make me go down there," I plead frantically as I'm dragged towards the basement where Masked Mayhem is in full swing.

I glance around for Raze or Hawk, but they're nowhere to be found.

My pleas fall on deaf ears as I'm dragged down the stairs against my will, being shoved through the crowd of men who have been like a family to me.

I finally see Raze and Hawk, and Red stands beside them, all confused until 13 and I are shoved to the ground in the middle of everyone.

It's happening .

In the neon-lit basement of the club, the air hangs heavy with tension as the sound of pulsating music echoes from the floors above.

The walls are covered in graffiti done in blood, a testament to the darkness that thrives in this place in the dead of the night.

A circle forms around the makeshift stage where King, with a cruel smirk, stands over me after placing a gun into my hands.

The audience, a mix of masked figures—some eager, some simply curious—watch in shock with bated breath.

King doesn’t need to say much for the crowd to understand the stakes.

He's a figure of ruthless authority, his silhouette framed by the grotesque glow of neon lights.

My heart racing, I stand trembling in front of 13, sweat trickling down my brow, my heart pounding as I face my friend, who's now tied to a chair, wide-eyed and terrified. He had infiltrated the club as an undercover cop, and I found out but never told, so this is my punishment. I can see the steely resolve in his eyes, despite the fear lurking just beneath the surface. King’s voice slices through the murmur, sharp and commanding.

"You think this is a fucking game, Whitney? You either pull that trigger on him, or I fucking promise you—you're the one who's going to end up dead. Do it." King’s menacing gaze reminds me that there's no way out, and the screams of my own impending doom echo in my mind.

The weight of the gun, cold and heavy, rests in my shaking hands.

My mind races through our laughter, late-night talks, and dreams of escape, memories now haunted by a horrific ending.

The masked members buzz with anticipation, fully absorbed in this twisted show, their faces obscured but their hunger for chaos obvious.

Raze, Hawk, and Red stand at the edge of the crowd, their expressions a mixture of horror and disbelief.

They can’t turn away, paralyzed by the nightmare unfolding before them.

They had all shared memories with me and 13, and the sight of us being torn apart by such a cruel demand is almost too much to bear.

Raze clenches his fists, anger boiling within him.

They know I'm caught in a web thicker than any club's strobe lights or smoky air; I'm trapped by loyalty, fear, and the cruel manipulations of a monstrous man.

"Whitney, don't do this," 13's voice pierces through the noise.

The moment hangs suspended in time, breath held by everyone, even the shadows in the corners. King steps closer, dangerously confident, his eyes glinting with malice.

"Tick-tock, Whitney. You have five fucking seconds. Choose ."

Panic surges through me as I stare into 13's eyes. They reflect the pain of betrayal, but more importantly, a flicker of hope. If I hesitate, if I show weakness, King will pull the trigger himself and kill both of us. The choice is unbearable, leaving me crippled between friendship and survival.

“Whitney!” Raze's voice breaks through, desperate and raw, calling out to me.

In that split second, I feel an overwhelming rush of defiance. I raise the gun slightly, tears spilling down my cheeks, urging me to make a different choice.

But then King’s hand grips my wrist tightly, forcing my aim. “Fucking do it!”

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," I whisper, feeling panic begin to make me entirely numb.

"It’s okay, baby. Go ahead. It's okay," 13 says with a crushing smile on his face as he fights through the tears.

With a sob that feels like it could shatter my insides, I squeeze the trigger, the deafening bang echoing in the basement as the world narrows to the sight of 13’s face twisted in shock and pain.

Time slows as his body falls, crumpling to the floor with a thud.

The crowd erupts into a mix of shocked gasps and cruel laughter, the scene an unspeakable horror movie.

I drop the gun, my bloodied hands falling to my sides as my heart shatters.

King steps back beside D, satisfied with the chaos he’d orchestrated.

Raze, Hawk, and Red surge forward from the crowd, faces white and horrified—their attempts to save me and 13 now lost in the nightmare that begins to unravel before them.

The basement pulses with a sickening energy of cheers amidst the tragedy.

I collapse to my knees, trembling as the reality of my actions crashes upon me—I had been forced to kill the one person who believed in goodness.

All hope dissolves in the haze of the club, leaving me with nothing but sorrow and unrelenting guilt in a world now shrouded in darkness.

They say love can save you, but sometimes it’s the love that destroys you that stays with you forever.