Which is really hard to do in a house of a million mirrors.

She takes a deep, calming breath. “Okay, I'm sorry. I’ve just been really scared, Addie.”

I flinch as a different kind of tsunami overwhelms me. This one is filled with every negative emotion imaginable. Guilt. Shame. Regret.

"I'm really sorry, Daya. I'll see you in a few."

I hang up the phone and immediately start walking off in the direction I think I’m supposed to be going in.

“Wrong way, little mouse. Follow me,” Zade says, his deep tenor causing me to tense, my shoulders rocketing to my ears. He’s finished dressing and is heading in the opposite direction.

Stiffly, I turn and follow after him. Not asking or caring how he knows where to go, as long as he gets me out of here.

After fifteen tense minutes, we find the exit door and I rush out, the cold air a balm to my heated face.

The fair is a stark difference to when I came in. The field is completely devoid of life. Not a single soul on the grounds nor any lights.

How long were we in there for? I check the time, and my eyes bug when I note that it’s twelve-thirty in the morning.

Two hours! I’ve been in there for two fucking hours. Sure, half of that was getting through the mirrors but still. Normal people don’t fuck for that long, do they?

Zade is somewhere behind me, so I glance over my shoulder and say, “Don’t follow me out. Daya is waiting for me, and I don’t want her to see you.” Even I can detect the coldness in my voice.

The entire fifteen minutes it took to find our way out, all I could think about is how I want to fuck him again.

And that scares the absolute shit out of me.

It was the reality check I needed—a very stark reminder that I just had sex with my stalker. I shouldn't have let any of that happen.

I feel his hand clamp around my wrist a second before he whips me around. I stumble into him, but he catches me quickly, wrapping a hand tightly around the back of my neck.

“I’m late for a date with a psycho girl anyways,” he says easily. My eyes round and he smiles when he detects the anger in my eyes. “Don’t be jealous, little mouse. It’s not a real date. She’s not my type of crazy. Despite the fact that she’s not you.”

I scoff. “I’m not jealous. Let me go,” I snap, attempting to pull away from him.

He pulls me in close, his lips brushing across mine as he stares deeply into my eyes.

“That will never happen, Adeline. I will never let you go.” I stiffen, thrown off by the severity in his tone. He’s actually serious.

He crushes his lips to mine before I can respond. And because this will be the last time I will ever allow this man to touch me, I respond in kind. I claw at him, tugging at the collar of his hoodie roughly, and clenching his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down hard until I taste his blood on my tongue.

He growls and devours me whole, his mouth still tasting of my pussy. And then he rips away from me, breathing hard.

“Go,” he demands roughly.

I don’t hesitate. I stumble out of the field and to my waiting car, the only one left in the parking lot. A fidgeting Daya sits behind the wheel, her stare boring into me.

I sigh, readying myself for a tough conversation I don’t know how to have. I’ll stick to my story. I got lost. That’s it.

I open the car door and nearly collapse in. When I meet her stare, she's glaring at me with the heat of a thousand suns.

“Why the fuck do you look and smell like you just got fucked?”

Chapter 31

The Shadow

“W

hat took you so long?” the psycho girl snaps, her dull brown eyes alight with fire. The same inferno in her eyes is what’s still residing in my chest.

My heart hasn’t stopped pounding, and I’m plagued with the unbending need to fuck her again. My brain feels like it's been tossed into a skillet and pan-seared to a crisp. I need to focus, but it’s nearly impossible when the taste of Addie lingers on my tongue, and I’m still gripped by the feel of her tightly wrapped around me.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to concentrate when I just found God. Or rather, I think I just became one.

But how can I feel like a god, yet be completely stripped of power when it comes to her?

I don’t know.

All I know is I fucking love haunted fairs now.

"I got caught up with something," I murmur, sweeping the room for lingering employees. Or any deadly surprises if the murderous look in the psycho girl's eyes is anything to go by. She's still planning on killing me, and the notion is laughable.

If it were so fucking easy to kill me, I would've been dead long ago. These scars are proof of that.

After our confrontation, the broken doll and I decided to team up for the time being. Since Mark decided to take matters into his own hands and try to kidnap and enslave my girl, I decided he was no longer worth keeping alive. The two seconds it took for him to conspire against Addie was the equivalent to writing his name in a Death Note.

There’s no chance of his survival.

So, we knocked out the four of them. The doll said she’d take them somewhere where the guests wouldn’t find them and meet up at midnight to get my answers and finish them off for good.

Claire, of course, witnessed the entire thing, and the doll sent her running. I couldn’t do anything at the moment when I had four men to handle, but the second I walked out of that haunted house, I had one of my men find her and take her somewhere safe.

Plain and simple, Claire is an abused woman who deserves to live a life in peace. But she also bore witness to a crime, and I can’t allow her the opportunity to tell someone.

Afterwards, I immediately went and found Addie and tracked her the entire time. I let her have her fun, visiting all the haunted houses and creepy carnival tents, and ride the thrill rides, all while I stayed quietly behind her, just out of sight. Making sure no one even looked at her funny without consequences.

"Where are they?" I ask, pinning my eyes back on the strange girl. Blood is already splattered across her white nightgown. I arch a brow but don’t say anything.

She nods towards the stairs. "Up in my playroom."

She begins to lead me up the stairs but stops short and looks off into the foyer, seemingly staring at something. But I see nothing.

"Stay down here until I call you guys up," she says, still staring off into space. My brow lowers as I try to figure out who the hell she's talking to. She pauses for a moment before she says, "I can handle myself," and continues up the stairs.

Well, this is fucking awkward. I've gotten myself into a lot of interesting situations over the years. Real interesting situations. But this one hits the top of the list.

Clearing my throat, I ask, "So, uh, what's your deal?"

“What do you mean, my deal?” she snaps.

“Those people you were talking to—do they not like me?” I ask, amusement prominent in my tone. I'm still not entirely sure what's going on with her. Maybe she's high off drugs, maybe she's mentally ill, or maybe she can see spirits or some shit.

“My henchmen? No. Nor do they trust you.”

Her henchmen? The fuck is this girl actually seeing? And are they supposed to be her helpers or something?

“You uh, told them to stay down there and that you can handle yourself?” I ask. “They’re not coming up too?”

She pauses on the steps, whips towards me, and throws her arm out to point behind me. "Do you see them walking behind you?"

I don't even turn to look. No one will be there. Aside from the two of us and the four men upstairs, no one else is inside this house.