Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Sammie
The words on my phone screen blur as my pulse roars in my ears. You only dance with me.
I shove the phone into my pocket, but it’s too late. My body betrays me. Heat crawls up my neck, rushing into my cheeks, and I know anyone could look over and see the flush glowing on my face. My father. The boys. Him.
Especially him.
Because I know he’s watching.
The party swirls around me in a blur of color and sound.
Thumping bass rattling the walls, shouts of laughter, clinking bottles, the squeak of sneakers on the wooden floors.
People in masks and paint, costumes cobbled together half-heartedly from the clearance bins.
Everywhere I look, someone’s shouting, kissing, dancing too close.
But all I can feel is that text searing into me, branding me.
I force a shaky laugh when a girl from school bumps into me, her cup sloshing sticky cider across her sleeve. She giggles, wipes it away, and keeps moving. She doesn’t notice I’m trembling. She doesn’t know I’m not really here.
Because I don’t belong to this crowd.
I belong to the shadows. To him.
My chest tightens as I shift closer to the wall, the crowd pressing too near. It smells like sugar, sweat, and cheap perfume, but underneath it all I swear I can taste him. That sharp cologne, heavy and dark, clinging to the back of my throat.
My phone vibrates again.
Don’t hide from me.
I bite the inside of my cheek, praying no one saw me check it. My dad is somewhere in this house. He could walk by at any second, and what then? What would he say if he saw the captain of his team sending his daughter messages like this?
The thought should terrify me. Instead it makes my stomach flip and tighten with something far more dangerous.
I type back with trembling thumbs, quick and frantic.
Stop. Someone will see.
The reply comes instantly, like he’s been waiting.
I want them to. I want them to know you’re mine.
A shiver races down my spine, so sharp it nearly buckles my knees. I grip the edge of a table, nails digging into the wood, pretending I’m just steadying myself from the push of the crowd.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can feel is his words slipping under my skin like hooks, pulling, dragging, leaving me raw.
Across the room, someone laughs too loud. The vampire boy; the one who asked me to dance. He’s talking with a group of teammates, beer in one hand, gesturing with the other. My stomach twists when his eyes cut back to me.
Please, no. Don’t.
He pushes away from his group, heading toward me again. His smirk says he didn’t take my rejection seriously.
And I know. I know without even turning my head that Triston sees it too.
My phone buzzes so hard it jolts against my thigh.
If he touches you, I’ll break him in front of everyone.
My breath hitches. He means it. I know he does.
The vampire boy steps closer, voice slurring with drink. “Come on, princess. One dance won’t kill you.”
My mouth goes dry. I shake my head, backing toward the wall. “I said no.”
He grins wider, reaching out, but I jerk away before his fingers can brush mine.
“Back off.” I snap, louder this time. People nearby glance over, eyebrows raised.
The boy laughs it off, lifting his hands like he’s innocent, then stumbles back into the crowd.
But I can feel the storm building.
I can feel him.
My phone buzzes again, and this time I don’t even need to read it to know the fury inside. My heart hammers as I slip through the crowd, desperate for air.
I push through a doorway into the quieter hall, shadows swallowing me whole. The thump of music dulls, leaving only the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I pull out my phone.
You handled him. Good girl. But don’t ever let another man near you again.
My knees nearly buckle. I sag against the wall, staring at the words, heat flooding every inch of me. I should be terrified. I should delete it. I should run back into the noise, into the safety of numbers, into my father’s line of sight.
Instead, I whisper, “God help me,” and type back.
You’re scaring me.
Another buzz.
No. I’m thrilling you. Look at you, trembling. Flushed. You feel me even when I’m not touching you.
My pulse slams harder. My skin prickles like his hands are already on me.
And when I look up, I swear I see movement at the far end of the hall. A shadow peeling itself from the darker corners, tall, broad, silent.
Watching me.
The hallway is dim, lit only by the soft flicker of a jack-o’-lantern perched on the end table. I freeze halfway down, my breath catching when I see him.
Triston.
He’s leaning against the far wall, shadows clinging to him like they belong. His face is half-lit by the glow of the pumpkin, and his eyes, God, those eyes. They are fixed on me with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I don’t need to look to know it’s him, but I can’t stop myself.
Don’t run. You want this as much as I do.
Heat blooms in my chest, crawling up my throat. He knows. He sees the way I’m trembling, the way my body betrays every frantic scream inside me.
Another buzz.
Look at you, shaking. My good girl. You’re already mine.
My throat tightens. My fingers clench around the phone like it’s the only thing tethering me to the world. My heart’s hammering, my body begging me to move, backward, forward, anywhere, but I can’t. I’m rooted. Trapped by him.
He pushes off the wall, slow and deliberate, like a predator who already knows the prey won’t escape. His footsteps are soft against the hardwood, but each one thunders in my head.
I swallow hard, trying to breathe, trying to think, but then the phone buzzes again.
Every flush of your skin belongs to me. Every breath, every glance. Do you feel how badly I want you?
My knees threaten to give out. I clutch the banister beside me, heat rolling through me so fierce I’m terrified someone else will see it, see me. But no one’s here. It’s just us. Just him.
And then, voices rise behind me. The swell of laughter from the party, footsteps pounding closer. Dad’s voice. My stomach twists so hard I nearly double over.
Triston doesn’t stop walking. His gaze doesn’t falter. But his mouth curves into the faintest, hungriest smirk, like he knows exactly how cornered I am.
My phone buzzes one last time.
You can’t hide from me, Sammie. By the end of tonight, you’ll be where you belong.
And then he’s only a few feet away, his shadow stretching across the floor to swallow mine, while Dad’s voice grows louder, nearer, until it feels like the walls are closing in on all sides.
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. All I can think is that something’s about to shatter me on this night, the fragile secret we’ve barely held together.