Chapter 46 The Last Dance
THE LAST DANCE
AURORA
"You have to look down the pool cue," I explain to Maisie. "See this spot here." I point to the side edge of the eight ball. "If you hit here, it'll go straight for the side pocket. Try to see the angle, and when you shoot—"
"Nice and steady," she finishes for me, then thrusts the stick into the cue ball. It hits a little off the mark against the eight ball, but she gasps as it ping-pongs against the mouth of the pocket before tipping right into the hole.
"Yes!" she jumps up and down, almost knocking out the couple standing nearby with the cue. "Oh, shit, sorry!"
I come around to give her a low five, and she grins from ear to ear. "Oh my god, does this mean I won?"
I nod. I let her, focusing more on using the match to teach her rather than playing, but technically, she did sink the eight ball.
"I'll play you," someone says, and we turn to see the guy who had a cowboy hat on smiling at Maisie. "If you're up for it."
Maisie whirls back to face me. By the gleam in her eye, I can tell she wants to—badly—but she doesn't want to leave me out.
"Go ahead, show him what you learned."
Her eyes crinkle as she turns and starts to tell the cowboy wannabe that she might still need some pointers.
But I lose all interest in their conversation when my eyes lock on a dark mask with glowing red X's for eyes and an equally bright slash of a smile.
He stands leaning against the wall in the opening between this room and the next, watching me.
My brow furrows as I take in his black button-down shirt, rolled to the creases of his elbows. The casual stance. A lock of dark wavy hair falling over the front of his mask.
It can't be, though?
I'm about to turn away when he raises his arms to cross them over his chest and the shining skin of the scars crossing over his right hand catch the light.
My face must tell all because Elijah lifts his finger to the smile of his mask, reminding me to stay cool.
But what is he doing here?
Is everything okay?
Did something happen?
My blood drains from my face, leaving me cold.
Until I see the others.
Behind Elijah, Seven and Atticus move through the crowd as red lights pulse and spin, and the bass drops.
Seven's Ghostface mask cocks to one side, and I note the crack in the right side of it that wasn't there in the Matisse photo. The blood splattered in an arc up the left side that I know in my bones is not fake.
Atticus lifts his arms to the beam separating our rooms, leaning into it to stretch out the bulk of muscle in his shoulders and biceps, not even a little hidden beneath the skin-hugging black long-sleeve he's wearing.
His skull face mask cocks alongside Seven's Ghostface one, and I know now that this isn't about a problem.
I laugh, shaking my head. I should be angry—this is a risk, and we all agreed we'd be more careful, but there are so many Menage a MaskTok copycats at this party, no one would ever notice them.
But I do.
I see how every other mimic at this party doesn't hold a candle to these three. They command attention just by existing. They look larger-than-life. Their presence is a tantalizing entity like a physical touch even from fifteen feet away.
I bite my lip and Seven crooks a finger at me before slipping through the throng of people, heading back through the front entryway.
The others follow him, and at first I think they're leaving and want me to follow, but then Seven walks past the front door and straight into the massive living room on the other side.
The music there is louder, the pulsing lights brighter in the dark as students dance in the space where there were sofas an hour ago.
I lick my lips, blood singing in my veins as I tap Maisie's shoulder to get her attention. "Hey, I'm going to go dance. I'll be back soon, 'kay?"
"'Kay! Oh, have you seen my vodka? I can't find it."
I frown, looking to where she set her purse down by the pool table. Fuck. I should've noticed she'd put it down. Someone probably stole it. I shake my head and lean in to make sure she can hear me clearly. "No, but I'll find us something. Don't take drinks from anyone else, okay?"
She has no idea what can happen. But I do.
I shiver at the memories. The times Jesse drugged me without my knowledge and the few times he made me take the pills of my own volition, using threats and pain as motivation.
Maisie looks at me seriously and nods. "I won't."
Satisfied she'll be okay without me for fifteen minutes, I all but race into the opposite living room, pushing through a wall of bodies to get in as the song changes.
And this one, I know.
"RUNRUNRUN" fills the room, and I squint to see through the flashing light that makes all the bodies appear to be moving in a series of freeze frames.
Someone bumps into me hard from behind, and I throw my hand out to catch myself before I can fall right on my fucking face, but strong arms catch me instead.
I gasp as I twist and find a familiar blood-splattered Ghostface holding me up. He hauls me back onto my feet and I see a familiar skull mask 'escorting' the guy who knocked into me right out the front door of the frat house.
Behind me, hands come around my waist, strong and hot as a glowing red smile appears above my right shoulder.
"Move for us, Ro," Seven shouts to be heard over the music, starting to move himself.
I smile in the dark as the chorus hits, swaying my hips between my masked villains.
Elijah's fingers bite into my hips insistently as he sways with me. Seven crowds me from the front, moving like he was made to dance. Every movement sings with dark temptation and lurid desire as he lets the music move him, becoming its vessel, putting on a show that is all for me.
When his hands race down my arms, and his hips connect with mine, I'm hot all over. Elijah grinds himself into me from behind while Seven worships my every curve, tracing scorching lines down the side of my neck, over my collar, and the tops of my breasts.
Then they shift apart from me, staying close enough to caress, but not to crowd, as a third villain appears on the makeshift dance floor.
The bones of his skull mask glow in the black light, making his eyes appear dark and hollow when I know they are anything but.
Atticus stands amid moving bodies, watching, waiting for permission, heedless of the women flocking to him, trying to get his attention and failing.
When one doesn't take the hint and turns in front of him sensually, trying to grind her ass into him, it's like I can see the challenge in his expression.
The girl in the slutty bunny costume bends forward, looking back at Atticus through hazy eyes as she pushes against the front of his tactical pants. But the instant she connects with him, my skin flushes, and I'm moving, rage hot in my chest as I claw through a couple to get to them.
But Atticus is faster, shifting his crotch out of bunny bitch's reach and grabbing her arms to firmly guide her away from him and out of my warpath, into the arms of one of her matching bunny friends.
When I'm satisfied she isn't coming back, I turn to pivot on my heel, to go back to Elijah and Seven, but a strong grip closes around my wrist, pulling me back into a solid chest. Atticus's hand comes up to caress my throat, and I notice how the knuckles of his gloves are torn, the skin beneath bruised and bloody.
What the hell did they do?
He drops his mouth to my ear. "You're not jealous of that little rabbit, are you, Trouble?"
My heart thuds hard in my chest as his scent and the feel of him against me floods my senses. Every inch is proof of all those hours he's spent in the gym. He's even bigger now than he was on that midnight highway. Stronger.
And even though there's this tiny voice nipping at the back of my mind that tells me that should scare me, right now, it doesn't.
Even with blood on his hands…
Even not knowing whose it is or how it got there…
He feels safe.
When Atticus moves, shifting his hips to the beat of the next song, I move with him, relaxing against his chest, letting him carry my weight as we dance.
Across from us, Elijah and Seven dance together without me, and fuck if that isn't the best thing I've seen in weeks. It's playful and carefree, the way they spin around one another, heads tipped up toward the ceiling, vibing with the music.
Until Elijah sees me in Atticus's arms, and he elbows Seven to get his attention.
Then they're both watching us. I wonder what they're thinking when Atticus uses his grip on my collar to urge me to settle my head back against his shoulder.
Or when he flattens his wide palm against my chest and starts to slide it down between my breasts, down my stomach, lower… lower…
My breath hitches, and heat rushes to my face.
I snatch his hand, stopping him, and he freezes at the shift in my demeanor. The clear demonstration of who is in control makes me reconsider.
I did say I would try.
When I place Atticus's hand back onto my body, allowing him to resume his exploration, Seven and Elijah share a look beneath their masks.
Elijah nods first, then Seven.
And I don't know what they agreed on, but I know the conversation didn't require a single word as they slither through the crowd of gyrating bodies, creating a triangle of muscle around me. Atticus's hand on my middle slips onto my hip and spins me out from his body—and right into Elijah.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he rests the forehead of his mask against mine, grinding his growing erection into my belly. He takes his time memorizing the planes of my body with his hands as we dance, then with some reluctance, his hand takes mine and spins me—into Seven's arms.
The music shifts from alternative songs featuring strong guitar and deep bass with electronic elements to a high-energy Latin dance-pop song with Spanish lyrics. Seven's hands shift from hot and gripping to a structured hold where he catches my right hand in his left and his other finds my waist.
I barely have time to register what he's doing before he starts to move. Not like before. Not like I ever would've thought he could.
Drunk partygoers clap and cheer as he leads me in a dance I am wholeheartedly confident I cannot keep up with. He dips me before the beat drops to a chorus of excited screams.
"Hold on and let me lead, Ro. I've got you."
"Oh god."
Seven snaps me back into place, and the confidence and structure in his every movement make me feel wholly inadequate.
"Deep breath. Loosen your body."
So I do. I try to relax into his lead, squealing when he starts to move fast.
The frame of his body keeps mine moving in perfect tandem as we step to the beat and I lean into the sound of the music and how my body naturally wants to move.
When he spins me out, I come back twice as fast, knocking into him hard as he makes a show of running his hand down my side, caressing my thigh.
Oh…fuck.
"That's it, Ro. You're good at this."
When he circles his hands under my thighs and lifts me onto him, I yelp, and the party claps as Seven spins me in a circle.
"Put me down," I urge, realizing belatedly that we're making a scene. A very public scene.
Seven drops me in a controlled fall to my feet and the crowd pulls back into the middle of the floor, filling in the space they vacated for Seven to throw me around the floor.
"It's okay, Ro," he whisper-shouts, caressing my cheek. "It's safe."
A hand slips into mine. It's Elijah.
He leans into my side, close enough for me to hear him when he says, "Want to get out of here, Angel?"
My stomach flips, and I press my thighs together, biting my lip at the insinuation in his husky tone.
But…
"I can't leave Maisie."
The guys share a look beneath their masks.
And I need this. I need them before everything gets all too real when I talk to Ambrose tomorrow and tell him I want to see the house in Spain.
I shiver. "Okay, give me a second."
Slinking out of the close circle of muscle, I rush back to where Maisie is shouting at the cowboy next to the pool table.
What the fuck?
Shit.
"Hey!" I shout when I reach them, pushing the cowboy back a few inches. "What the hell is going on?"
"This dick grabbed my ass while I was trying to make my shot!"
When I turn to glare at the cowboy, his face pales, and it makes me wonder if he can see the murderous intent in my eyes as clearly as I mean him to.
"Apologize," I sneer, clenching my fists.
Maisie's grip on my shoulder is the only thing that stops me from forcing him.
"He's not worth it," Maisie says, and then pulls me to the side, leaving the cowboy fucker to get away with his dickish behavior.
When I look at her, there's a pained expression on her face. "Would you hate me if I wanted to leave early?"
Au contraire…
I have a very important dick appointment I was hoping not to have to cancel on.
"Um, why, is everything okay?"
She leans closer to avoid anyone else hearing. "Aunt flow just showed up, and the cramps are starting to get bad."
I erase that information from my brain immediately. Nope. Didn't hear it. No need for my body to try to sync up. We have days yet before it's my time.
"If you want," she adds. "We can share an Uber again? I'll cover it."
I shake my head. "No, that's okay. You order yours now. I think I have a ride in a bit."
She frowns, then her eyes widen. "Oh shit, is it Bailey?"
"God, no."
I make a face, and she laughs. "You sure you'll be okay without me?"
"One hundred percent."
Then she has her phone out, and I scan the surrounding faces, finding three masked men watching me from the doorway. Waiting.
My throat goes dry, breaths shallow as I press my thighs together against the delicious ache forming between them.
"Oh crap. It says one minute until arrival," Maisie chirps, stuffing her phone in her purse and giving me a quick hug. "Text me when you get home, 'kay? See you Monday!"
"Share your ride details with me!" I call after her as she rushes for the front door, walking right past my masked men.
Elijah comes to me as Seven and Atticus head for the exit. I notice he's got some pink monstrosity of a jacket over one arm and a Barbie blonde wig in his other hand.
I remember I was followed here and am so relieved someone was thinking clearly enough to realize I can't leave looking the same as I did when I came in.
Quickly, I slip into the stolen jacket and Elijah zips it up as I twist my hair back and stuff it into the wig as I maneuver it onto my head.
"Good?"
"Perfect." Elijah snakes an arm around my middle. "Shall we?"
I shiver at his warmth as he guides me to follow his brothers from the party.