Chapter 4
4
Cecely
As we walk, I ask, “So why do you still have the mask on?”
“Is it bothering you?”
“Not necessarily. It’s just kind of odd, ya know?”
He gives my hand a small squeeze, but doesn’t answer.
We keep walking, the path beneath us narrowing as we move deeper into the woods. At first, I don’t mind. The night is quiet, the air crisp, and for a while, it almost feels peaceful.
But then I notice the chill seeping through my clothes. Even though it’s May, the temperature drops the further we go, the dense canopy above swallowing the last remnants of warmth. And when I glance over my shoulder, my stomach clenches.
The parking lot? Gone. The glow of streetlights? Nowhere in sight.
Just darkness. Trees. Him.
A slow unease creeps up my spine, coiling tight in my gut.
What in the hell am I doing?
This is a terrible idea. Every instinct is screaming at me now, but it’s like my body is a step behind my brain, just catching up to the reality of the situation.
I should?—
“We’re here.”
We come to a stop, and I suck in a breath.
Before us, nestled in the quiet embrace of the woods, is a small pond. The water shimmers beneath the moonlight, liquid silver rippling with the softest breeze. The air hums with the rhythmic chirp of crickets and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures, creating a sound that is both soothing and eerie.
For a moment, my unease wavers.
The scene is beautiful, almost dreamlike, like we’ve stepped into a hidden world untouched by time.
I wrap my arms around myself, unsure if it’s from the chill or the lingering tension still curling at the edges of my mind.
“Wow. I didn’t know this was here.”
“I’m sure many people don’t, since it’s past the main entrance and trails.”
He unfolds the blanket, giving it a quick shake before laying it across the cool ground. The fabric settles, soft against the earth, as he drops the bag beside it with an effortless motion. Then he sits, patting the space next to him.
I hesitate for just a second before lowering myself down, the chill of the night seeping through the fabric beneath me. Instinctively, I glance up and my breath catches. Above us, the sky unfurls like a masterpiece. There’s just enough of a clearing for the stars to break through the darkness, pinpricks of silver scattered across an endless canvas.
For a moment, everything feels still. Quiet.
Almost safe.
“This is beautiful.”
“It is,” he answers, looking right at me.
I snort before I can stop myself.
“What?”
“Just a bit cheesy.” I cross my legs, resting my elbows on my knees. “So, Ghosty, are you going to tell me your name?”
He hums under his breath. “I like Ghosty.”
“You have a habit of deflecting. Did you know that?”
“Do I?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Maybe it’s because you make me nervous. You’re very beautiful, Cecely.”
My heart does a funny thing in my chest.
“You’re silent. Have I offended you?”
“No. Just not something I hear a lot.”
“What? That you’re beautiful? I find that hard to believe.”
“Is that why you won’t take off the mask?” An idea crosses my mind. “Let me guess. You’re hideously and horribly scarred, and the mask makes you feel like you’re in control.”
“Something like that. But we all wear masks. Some literal. Some under the guise of humor.” There’s a pause, and then he murmurs, “Two sides of the same coin.”
Two sides of the same coin? What in the heck is he talking about? I’m about to reply with something snarky when my phone dings. I glance at it, smiling.
Jade
You alive?
Yup. We’re at Cedar Ridge Preserve.
…
Girl, that’s pretty secluded.
I know. I’m fine.
Okay. Text me when you get home.
Will do.
I drop my phone in my lap and say, “That was my boss checking up on me.”
“Good boss,” he says. “I’m sure you run into all sorts of people at the club.”
“Yeah, like guys who wear masks and won’t tell me their names.”
“Ah, so it’s happened more than once.” He chuckles. “How about this? Let’s play a game. If I win, we get to do something I want to. If you win, we’ll do something you want.”
“Meaning?”
“If you win, I’ll take off the mask and tell you my name.”
“What’s the game?”
“Never have I ever. Know it?”
“Of course.”
He reaches for his bag, pulling out a bottle of vodka. He sets it between us and says, “You can go first.”
“Oh, I was planning on it. Okay. Never have I ever gone to the woods with a strange man.” When he doesn’t reach for the bottle, I ask, “Do you know how to play?”
“I do. And I can honestly say I’ve never been to the woods with a strange man before.”
Glaring, I take a sip, grimacing.
“My turn?” He thinks. “Never have I ever worked at a strip club.”
“Is that how this is going to go? You’re going to cheat?”
“I’m not cheating. I’m playing a game. To win.”
“Noted.” I eye him. “Never have I ever worn a Ghostface mask on a date.”
He doesn’t reach for the bottle, making me sigh.
“Really?”
“I didn’t know this was a date.”
Heat licks my skin, and I grab the bottle, taking a drink to hide my embarrassment.
He says, “Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone in a Ghostface mask.”
I almost don’t want to reach for the bottle, but, unlike him, I’m playing a fair game. I take a sip, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Even though I’ve only had a few sips, I’m already feeling tipsy.
“Wait. How are we going to know if there’s a winner?” My words slur, and I hiccup as I laugh. “Whoa. I’m not usually a lightweight.”
“Then I think I’m the winner, mama.”
For some reason, I’m not mad about losing to him.
“Figures.” I spread my hands. “So, what do you want as a prize?”
His head tilts. “Hmm. I have an idea.”
There’s something in the way he says it that has my body coming to life.
“Oh?”
“As you mentioned, I still have the mask on. It’s kind of a…turn on for me.”
“A turn on?” I echo.
“Yeah. It makes me hard as fuck playing the bad guy.” He leans forward a bit. “So, Cecely, for my prize, I want to chase you through the woods.”
My pulse thrums in my neck. “Chase me?”
“Mmmhmm,” he hums. “But it needs to feel…real.”
“Real how?”
“When you run, I want you to pretend I’m the bad guy who’s going to kill you if I catch you.” He reaches into the duffel bag, pulling out a knife. The blade catches the light, shining. “Imagine that if I catch you, I’ll gut you with this.”
This shouldn’t be turning me on. This shouldn’t be turning me on! I mean, it’s a fake knife for crying out loud. Harvey had the same one when he went as a killer on Halloween.
But still…I can’t deny that Ghosty makes it look hot.
I moisten my lips. “So we’re going to roleplay? What happens if you catch me?”
“When I catch you, well, we’ll go from there. If you’re a good girl, I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
Holy crap. I shake my head, trying to clear it.
“Do I get a head start?”
“Of course. I’ll give you five minutes.”
“And if you don’t find me after five minutes?”
“Then you win, after all.”
I stand, smiling. “Deal.”
He stands, too, still holding the knife. “Time starts now.”
A nervous, or maybe even excited, giggle leaves my lips as I take off toward the pond. My plan is to make him think that’s where I’m going and then dunk under some low-hanging branches.
My heart pounds as I run. Each step reminds me that my time is slowly ticking away and while I feel like I’m going fast, the reality is that I’m not.
I reach the tree and dodge under it. A branch scratches me on the cheek, but I don’t have time to check if I’m bleeding. Loud footsteps pound on the ground somewhere behind me. Surely, my time isn’t up! Right? But the sound gets closer, which means I need to do something, and fast.
I dart to the left, running down a small hill. The trees are denser, making it hard to see, especially in the dark. If I thought Ghosty wouldn’t see it, I’d turn on the flashlight on my phone. Instead, I jump behind an enormous tree, holding my breath as best as I can so I don’t make a sound.
Footsteps crunch branches on the ground in the distance, which makes me all but freeze. It no longer sounds like he’s running. Instead, I think I can hear him whistling. It’s terrifying, in a way. Like, he wanted me to run like my life depended on it and he’s out here just strolling? Who does that?
The footsteps get closer. Close enough that I hear him chuckle darkly.
“Mama, you’re going to have to do better than hide behind a tree to win this game. I’m going to turn my back and count to twenty. You better run. Understand me?”
There’s no way he knows where I’m at! He’s bluffing.
“If you don’t, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to show you just how real this knife is.”
My breath hitches in my throat. What in the fuck?
“Did I forget to mention that?” He chuckles again. “Since I already know where you’re at, come out so I can show you. I promise I’ll still give you a head start when we start playing again.”
I debate what to do.
“Cecely…”
Sighing, I step out from the tree. Holy shit. He’s a lot closer than I thought.
He’s holding the knife in his left hand. In his right hand is a rock. He drags the blade, scraping it slowly over the rock.
“A fake knife wouldn’t make a sound like that,” he says. “But just to send my point home…”
He runs the knife under the sleeve of his shirt, cutting easily through the fabric.
“See? It’s real. And your time starts now.”
“This is madness.”
“You agreed to play my game, Cecely. Don’t disappoint me now.”
What the hell. I mean, even if it’s a real knife, that doesn’t mean he’s actually going to use it on me. It’s all part of the game. I giggle. That might be the vodka talking…
I take off running again, this time with a purpose. He’s not going to win. He’s not going to win! I chant the words with each step that I take. I push myself harder than I’ve ever pushed before. I’m smart. I don’t run in a straight line. I’m careful. I keep my steps as light as I can as I run to hopefully not leave footprints behind. I’m quiet. Well, as quiet as a girl who weighs two-twenty can be. The thought has me snorting as I make my next turn.
Where I run right into the hard body of Ghosty.
Our bodies collide, and I grunt in pain. He grabs on to my arms to stable me, but then doesn’t let go.
“Looks like I won again.”
“How in the heck did you catch me? I don’t even know where I’m at!”
“I told you, I’ve done this before. You’re not the first person to think they could outrun me.” He leans in closer, and the smell of dirt, sweat, and something darker—something more dangerous—fills my nostrils. His breath is warm on my ear as he whispers, “And now it’s time for my prize.”
I try to twist away, my pulse hammering in my throat, but he holds me firm. The sound of the knife tapping against his leg makes my skin prickle.
“Let me go,” I snap, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. “You said I had a head start. You promised!”
He laughs, a harsh sound that echoes in the trees. “Promises mean nothing in a game like this, Cecely. It’s not about promises. It’s about who’s faster. Smarter.” He lets go of one of my arms, but before I can react, he uses it to pull me closer, his face inches from mine. “And now you’re about to learn what it means to lose.”
My heart slams against my ribcage, and I don’t know whether to run, fight, or beg. The knife in his hand gleams in the pale moonlight, the edge catching just enough light to remind me how sharp it is. My mind races as I weigh my options.
Escape. Fight back. Keep him off balance. My body’s on autopilot now, every instinct screaming at me to break free, to do something. Anything.
But Ghosty’s too damn fast.
Before I can even think of an escape plan, he shifts, his hold tightening again, and the knife slides under my chin, the cold steel grazing my skin. My breath catches in my throat.
“I’ll give you one last chance,” he says, his voice dark with anticipation. “You can either stay with me, or you can run again. But know this. I will always catch you.”
The chill of the blade is unbearable, but it’s the words that freeze me.
My heart is still pounding, but now it’s for a different reason. The rhythm of it is erratic, the pulse thrumming through me in waves that I can’t control. Every instinct tells me to back away, to push him off, to run. But something else—a darker, deeper part of me—reaches out, desperate to feel the heat of him closer, to embrace the chaos that he's bringing.
This is madness. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t even be here. But as I look into Ghosty’s eyes, something in me stirs. His gaze is a predator’s, sharp, unrelenting, but there's something else too, something raw, something dangerous that draws me in. I know I should fight it, but I give in.
I swallow hard, moistening my lips, feeling the weight of his presence like a physical thing pressing against me.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
His knee shifts between my legs, pushing them apart, a slow, deliberate movement that sends a shiver up my spine. The action is simple, but it’s loaded with meaning, and the air thickens with it. He leans in, his breath brushing across my skin, and his voice—low and dark—slides over me like silk.
“I want what you offered earlier,” he murmurs, the words wrapped in a challenge. “Are you going to be a good girl and give it to me?”
The question hangs in the air, loaded with expectation. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears now, my chest tight with a mixture of dread and something far more unsettling. I don’t answer immediately. The weight of his words presses against me, making everything feel amplified, every sound sharper, every breath heavier.
But as I look at him, I know. Deep down, I know what I want. I’ve made a choice, and I can’t take it back. I’ve already crossed that line, and now it’s time to face it.
I take a breath, my voice trembling as I say, “Yes.”
The word feels foreign as it slips from my lips, but it's also the truth. I can't deny it anymore.
His eyes darken with approval, the glint of something primal flashing behind them. Without breaking his gaze, he drops the knife to the ground with a soft thud, the sound too loud in the silence. The tension in the air crackles as his hand reaches up, his fingers brushing lightly against my lips, a touch so gentle it feels like it could burn.
The world seems to slow, the space between us thick with everything unspoken, everything that’s just beneath the surface. I don’t know where this is going, or what will happen next, but at this moment, I can’t look away.
And for the first time since this game began, I wonder if I ever truly wanted to escape at all.
“Get on your hands and knees.”