27. Fall With Me
27
Fall With Me
“There’s only one way out of this haunted house.” The crypt keeper wagged their brows and gestured to the array of oversized coffins littering the walls. “Any volunteers?”
There was a regular exit door for the faint of heart, but I wasn’t afraid of a little box. Or a little trouble.
I smiled at Victor. He shook his head, a silent, smirking admonishment.
There was no stopping me from this, though. It was destiny. An experience. And we’d already paid for it.
I raised my hand. “I—”
“I volunteer,” he said, stepping in front of me.
“Hey.” I tugged his vest and laughed. That was my gag.
“Plenty of room for two,” the crypt keeper said. “You first, Romeo. Stand on the mark.”
He shot me a wry look and sauntered over to the crude witchy symbol drawn in fake blood on the bottom of his coffin. He clasped his wrist by his groin and lifted his chin as if to say, 'do your worst.'
It was sexy as fuck. From the sly glances he kept shooting over, I had to wonder, was he trying to impress me? Because if so, it kinda worked.
“Ooh, tough guy. I love scaring them the best.” The crypt keeper fiddled with a control panel. “Now, hold your shoulders, cross your ankles, and don’t touch anything, or it may turn into an iron maiden situation.”
Victor gripped his shoulders, truly embracing the vampire spirit, though he did glance about as the crypt keeper closed the coffin on him. I doubted any of splinters would turn into spikes.
The door curved out a bit, with a big window in the front, but still, that was a tiny space. Victor almost had to strain himself not to touch anything.
“You look right at home in there.” I grinned.
“I doubt I’ll get comfortable,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll bring you back to life with true love’s kiss.” I winked.
He peered at the crypt keeper. “Can you kill me any faster?”
That smug bastard.
“I know you’re excited, but you just have to wait.” I pressed my palms to the door and pretended to lick and kiss the glass.
His eyes gleamed with appreciation, despite him shaking his head in mock disapproval.
“Ugh, lovebirds.” The crypt keeper smacked his door, then herded me to the neighboring coffin. “Why don’t I marry you right now? It’s only ‘til death do you part.”
I hesitated. Marriage? It was our second date. Then again, we were only playing. Victor hadn’t voiced any objections.
I stepped into my coffin and spun around. “Why not? Apparently, this is our last date in life, so we might as well expedite things.”
Victor chuckled, his voice a rumbling comfort as the door closed in on me. “This isn’t exactly what I hoped for in a honeymoon suite,” he said.
“What were you picturing?” I asked sweetly. Handcuffs and rose petals?
“Well, I'd actually be able to see you. And touch, preferably,” he said.
Oh. He pictured me . Not some hypothetical bride. Me. Even if it was a slip of the tongue and he didn’t mean it, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering.
I grasped my shoulders and imagined his cold hands running up my legs as I mounted him in black strappy lingerie, the two of us tangled in silky sheets. There’d be a wedding band on his left hand. He’d slow-blink up at me and call me Mrs. Sterling.
I swallowed hard against a building pressure in my throat. I didn’t dare name it longing.
“Marriage is its own form of hell,” the crypt keeper rasped. “You’ll see.”
“Maybe we should continue living in sin, then,” Victor reasoned.
I snorted and lowered my head, trying not to think about oxygen levels or marriage or this tiny space. My parents would argue marriage was a blessing with the right person, then probably preach about settling down. But they couldn’t save me from this fate: certain doom with a guy who probably wanted to fuck me instead of commit to anything.
It was fine. This was a second date. And I liked…this. Whatever we were. All of it.
The crypt keeper patted their chest. “Keep holding your shoulders, but if either of you wants to back out, just shake your heads and shout.”
“Is that to call off the marriage or our impending deaths?” Victor deadpanned.
My mouth hung open. Was he going to ditch me at the fake-altar and the grave?
“Ooh, she might kill you herself either way.” The crypt keeper flipped some levers and prattled off an impromptu speech. “We are gathered here today to witness a massacre. Well, a sacrifice. Well, a wedding, I guess. They’re all in the same nether-realm of torture…”
At least weddings had cake. And slow-dancing. And promises.
My knees wobbled at the mental image of Victor slipping under my skirts to kiss my thighs and pull off my garter with his teeth. I had to stay alert. This box was small. Would they shake it? Pump bursts of air at our backs like we were being stabbed?
How was Victor doing? Fuck, I wanted to hold his hand.
“Now, do you take each other in unholy matrimony?” the crypt keeper drawled.
We both started to speak. “I—”
The floor gave out from under me.
I was dead. Gone. Plummeting and shouting along with Victor. My eyes screwed shut. I hugged myself, wishing I had him instead. I wished we had more time. I wished he could somehow catch me even if—
A soft, slippery impact siphoned off my scream.
My limbs splayed amid a pile of cushioned spheres. A few of them popped up and rolled over me. Everything rattled like marbles set loose. Or maybe it was more like the tide pushing at the beach. I was swimming. Floating? Shaking.
And very much not dead.
Where was Victor?
I gasped and scrambled to sit partway up, looking to my right for my spider man.
He laid next to me, shock and awe painting his face. Beams of light from above caressed his splayed figure. He turned from the coffin trap door to me. His arm was out.
My heart rammed against my ribcage. Had he reached for me?
“I didn’t signal for them to stop,” he whispered.
“Neither did I,” I said.
Oh shit. Oh shit; what did this mean?
I strained to reach him, but the balls kept giving out from under me, making it impossible to progress.
We huffed and tried to swim towards one another. Instead, we rolled.
Wait. We were in a literal ball pit. A black and silver one. This was our long drop with a short stop?
Our gazes met, our fingers brushed, and inexplicably, we laughed.
A strange euphoria hit hard enough that tears streamed down our faces. I touched my chest, willing my lungs to open and let in this magnificence. I really thought I was done back there. This was such a relief.
The more he wheezed and cackled, the more I saw a future with him beyond our spongy grave.
I hadn’t just fallen with Victor, I was falling for him. And now, I had the strange feeling he was falling for me.