Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
BAILEY
I’m in a goddamn murder house.
Metalcore music explodes from the towering speakers, each note slamming into me like a punch to the ribs, and I’m instantly reminded why I don’t attend parties.
Blood-slick mannequins hang from the rafters, suspended by ropes and chains, wrapped in caution tape and cobwebs, swaying with the beat.
The deep-red strobe lighting strikes in jagged bursts over the sea of costumed, dancing bodies, grinding and thrashing in sync with the music, and all I can think about is turning my ass around and walking out of here.
“Are you good, babe?” Sarah’s voice breaks over the noise, her arm linked in mine as we walk through the drunken crowd, and over to the back of the warehouse where the alcohol is stationed.
“Yeah, I'm good. Just need a drink,” I lie, my voice hoarse from the world's most obnoxious smoke machine hidden somewhere behind all the Halloween props.
“Sarah. Bailey! You're here! Oh my God, you both look amazing!” a voice shouts from behind us, and I spin around to see our best friend, Kayda, or should I say, slutty Carrie, covered head to toe in fake blood.
Wow, she really went all out. Sarah and I decided on a couple's costume.
I'm dressed as Harley Quinn, no, it has nothing to do with my ex, that's just an unfortunate coincidence, and Sarah looks like a total fucking knock out in her sexy rendition of the Joker.
When I told her I wanted to go as the penguin from Batman, she almost kicked me out of her spare bed, which is where I've been sleeping for the past three days.
“Hey, girl. Sorry, we’re late. I didn’t want to come,” I say, pulling her into a hug, not caring if I smear fake blood on my costume.
“I’m sorry to hear about Harley. If it helps, I haven’t seen him around, so I don’t think he showed up,” Kayda says, her bloodied face twisting into a grimace as she hands me a beer, before filling one for Sarah and herself.
I inwardly wince because I haven’t been as open with Kayda as I have with Sarah about what’s been going on in my life lately.
The truth is, I couldn’t be more unbothered by Harley or what he did with Chloe, but I spare her the details anyway.
Now is not the time to burden her with that bullshit.
I'm here to have fun, albeit reluctantly, and because I could really use the distraction. I’d much rather spend my night bingeing old-school horror movies, eating my weight in chocolate, and quietly drowning in self-pity while I touch myself to sexy men in masks, chasing after their next kill.
I haven’t been able to get what happened the other night out of my head, and it’s driving me fucking crazy. The way Colton owned me with just his fingers as I watched Jace and Roman fuck, only for Colton to turn around and push me away like I didn’t matter.
The worst part is, I know I don’t.
Call it morbid desperation, but for a brief moment, I believed I could have had everything I ever wanted—them, and me.
Together.
That thought had always felt right to me, but then, once again, they shattered it, replacing all those hopes with cold distance and hurt.
God, I’m such an idiot.
First, for thinking I could be something more than a ghost from their past. And second, for still wanting them, especially after everything they’ve done.
Maybe they haven’t hurt me outright, but their distance?
Their rejection hurts, and I don’t think I’ll ever really get over it. I mean, how can I?
Never have I ever felt such fierce, unfiltered desire before, and they didn’t even fuck me.
I’ve spent every restless moment since burning to know what it would have felt like if we did.
If they finally claimed what was always theirs, showing me just how badly they wanted me, but never dared to touch.
But that’s not how this ends, because they don’t want me like that.
Maybe Colton did, for a brief moment. He even admitted it.
But not enough to stay, and not enough to choose me.
And I’m back to square one all over again, wanting them from a distance, only this time it’s fucking worse because Colton gave me a taste of what our lives could be like before it all went to shit in a handbasket.
“It's fine. I’m fine. Harley is a total asshole anyway,” I say with a shrug, knowing damn well that I can’t tell her the real reason I’ve been spiraling. It’s already bad enough that Sarah knows about what happened with Colton and me.
I’m not foolish enough to tell her about Roman and Jace.
That's not my story to share. Not to mention, I'm sure they’d fucking kill me if word got out about their relationship, because they'd know that it came from me. And I don’t think Keith will approve, and that man is scary as fuck when he’s mad.
Sure, Sarah has been supportive about the whole wanting to fuck my stepbrother and his best friends thing.
But what she doesn't know is that I am in love with them. Always have been, and that's a whole different kind of vulnerability. One I’m not ready to unpack for myself yet, let alone my friends. Mostly because I know that it’s completely unrequited.
I thought with all the distance they put between us, that I'd be over them by now, but I’m not.
“Damn fucking right he is. Which is why our girl here needs a rebound,” Sarah says, searching the room, as if said rebound will just materialize out of fucking nowhere.
“He ain't shit, baby! You deserve someone who realizes what the fuck he has when he has it, because a woman like you deserves better than the limp dick Harley had to offer,” Kayda says, and I return her warm smile, letting her know that I’m grateful for her support.
“Or someones’,” Sarah adds, shooting me a knowing look over the rim of her cup as she finishes her drink. Heat pricks at my cheeks at her innuendo, and my wide eyes must give me away because she grins like a cat who got the cream. I told her I was over it, but she knows me better than that.
Sarah, Kayda, and I have been friends since the start of college. Hell, I don’t think I would have survived this chapter in my life without them. Especially when the only other friends I’ve ever had were Roman, Jace, and Colton, and look how that fucking turned out.
Every thought I seem to have tonight always circles back to them. It’s like they are etched into my brain. I open my mouth to speak when the lights cut out, followed by the music, leaving behind an eerie silence that falls over the crowd.
Everything is swallowed in darkness, and my chest clenches with a sudden, choking weight of dread. I’m not afraid of the dark, or anything, but everyone here looks like they’ve crawled straight out of my fucking nightmares, and I’m all jumpy.
Red emergency-style lighting buzzes to life on the edges of the tin walls, creating a smoky path that leads to the warehouse exit.
“About fucking time,” Kayda mutters, and I watch as her darkened silhouette moves, skulling her drink before setting the empty cup down on the bench beside us.
“What is happening? Where are we going?” I question, my heart still pounding, as Sarah reaches for my hand, pulling me along with the rest of the moving bodies.
This is my first time doing one of these, and when Sarah said there would be games, I expected a spooky version of spin the bottle or some shit, not something that involves leaving the venue.
“Run through the trees, don’t look behind. Darkness is patient, silence is kind. You will hide, the chosen will seek. They move in silence, they do not speak. Claim the flag to stay alive. But only the fastest will survive.”
An ominous voice breaks over the speakers as we hurriedly shuffle to the exit, and a chill crawls over me, raising every tiny hair in its path.
What the actual fuck kind of game is this?
“Please tell me they give you more of an explanation than that?” I say, which garners a chuckle from the low-budget cyclops in front of us.
“Basically, run like hell, and get to the flag area before you’re caught,” he offers, and before I can even ask him what actually happens if you do get caught, he’s already out the door, waiting to begin with the others.
“The flag is placed in the clearing on the other side of the forest. It’s lit up like a Christmas tree with a bunch of solar lights wrapped around it.
It’s hard to miss in the dark. But everyone always takes it seriously, which means, if you want to avoid getting caught, you’ve gotta run like hell,” Kayda says, her face beaming with anticipation.
“Someone tell me the point of this?” I question, my patience dwindling. I should have stayed home.
“The winners split fifteen grand, compliments of the frat's fundraising all year. Ridiculous, but it’s tradition, and I certainly won’t complain about winning money,” Sarah explains, and I think about that for a moment.
“And what happens if you’re caught?”
“The losers have to finish the semester wearing the same costume they wore tonight. It’s childish, I know. But it’s fun,” Sarah says, and my brows furrow as I try to recall a time that I’ve ever seen anyone walk around campus in a Halloween costume.
“Bailey, if you’re not up for this, just say the word, and we’ll leave,” Sarah says gently, her fingers wrapping tighter around mine.
“But if you want to stick to the plan to let go for just one night, forget all the assholes who let you down. Now is your chance.” Her eyes search mine, full of quiet worry.
Sarah knows that I haven’t been myself recently, and she’s tried to make tonight as normal as possible for me because it’s what I need.
Well, as normal as you can get at a Halloween party, and I’ve been a total buzz kill.
“You’ll love it, Bailey, I swear,” Kayda says, but they’re forgetting one detail.
Who the hell is chasing us?
I figure not knowing is probably the whole point, so I decide fuck it. Live, laugh, lobotomy, and all that shit.