Chapter Twenty Six Halloween Nightmare
Chapter Twenty Six
Halloween Nightmare
A
rina’s going full cheerleader this year, which honestly fits her perfectly—flirty, fun, loud, and dramatic in all the right ways. She already has her pom-poms ready like she’s about to lead the halftime show instead of host a Halloween party.
And Levy—of course knows I want us to match. He’s going as the prisoner to my cop, which feels a little too on-brand for us.
I can already see it. Me in my fitted uniform, badge shining, cuffs hanging off my hip… and him trailing behind me pretending he’s the one in control.
I can already feel the energy of it all—people screaming over the decorations, bodies everywhere, and me slipping through the crowd knowing I look damn good and fully in my element.
Yeah… this party’s going to be one for the books.
Bags and boxes cover the living room floor as the three of us dive into decorating. Arina’s balancing on a chair, stretching fake cobwebs across the curtain rod like she’s been training for it all year.
I’m on the rug fighting a tangle of orange lights that clearly have a personal vendetta against me. While Levy sits next to me unpacking skeleton props, arranging each one like it’s some kind of collectible.
He’s such a boy.
“This place is about to look insane,” Arina laughs, stepping down to admire her handiwork.
“It better,” I say through my teeth, yanking at the cursed lights until they finally give in and fall perfectly into place.
“We’ve been planning this for way too long. Everyone we invited is expecting a show, and we’re gonna deliver. And they better show up dressed to kill—no last-minute flaking, and they definitely better be ready to get fucked up.”
Levy glances up from the floor, one brow raised. “Speaking of—who exactly is coming? I only remember, like, half the list.”
“Some people from high school,” I say, plugging the lights in. They flicker to life, casting the room in a warm orange glow. “A few friends from the parties we used to go to… and remember my cousin Shae? She’s bringing her boyfriend. Plus, a few of Arina’s people. It’s should be a good mix.”
Arina hops down from the chair, brushing dust off her hands. “I just want it packed—but not too packed you know? We don’t need randoms trying to sneak in.”
I smirk, already two steps ahead. “That’s why I asked my brother to be security. Y’all know we don’t exactly have the best relationship—he’s a snake-ass asshole—but he’s six-two, built like a wall, and doesn’t play that shit. So, If anyone’s watching the door, I figured it should be him.”
Levy grins. “Yeah good idea, nobody’s sneaking past him.”
Arina points a plastic bat at me like she’s officiating something. “That’s perfect. I trust him way more than I’d trust anyone else.”
“Exactly,” I say, nodding. “If it’s not him, the only other person I’d want at the door is your uncle—but he’s got plans. So, Sonny it is.”
We keep moving around the room, hanging decorations, shifting furniture, tossing ideas back and forth. Every cobweb, every pumpkin, and every ridiculous prop bringing the house closer to party-ready. And I can feel the buzz under my skin.
? ? ?
The day of the party is finally here, and the house is unrecognizable.
The backyard looks like a full-on haunted attraction—black lights glowing under the tree, fog machines tucked in corners, fake gravestones lined along the fence.
We even built a skeleton archway by the gate so everyone has to walk under it to get in.
It doesn’t even feel like our backyard anymore. It feels like a movie set. And out there, making sure every last detail is perfect, is Levy—focused and sexy as hell with a hammer in one hand, fake blood smeared across his shirt.
After finishing everything, Arina and I drop to the floor to start our makeup, lipsticks rolling under the bed, palettes cracked open, lashes clinging to the floor, brushes scattered everywhere.
Her music hums low in the background as we sit around the mirror, blending shadows and sharpening eyeliner with the kind of intensity people usually reserve for red carpets.
Honestly, we’re giving “getting ready for the Grammys,” not “throwing a party in our backyard.”
“This is it, bitch,” Arina grins, curling her lashes. “Our first big party. If it doesn’t end up legendary—I’m blaming you.”
I laugh, lining my lips in red and filling them in slow. “Oh, it’s going to be legendary, just look at us.”
We stand and slip into our costumes, checking every angle in the mirror like our lives depend on it.
I pull my police hat lower, tightening my bun until it’s sleek and sharp, then turn to Arina.
She’s fussing with the straps on her cheerleader top, giving herself a slow spin before striking a pose like she’s auditioning for the cover of Vogue: Halloween Edition.
“Damn, bitch,” I whistle. “We look good.”
Arina smirks, tossing her hair. “Good? Please. We look like playboy bunnies on probation. I’m not ending this party without getting laid tonight—I refuse.”
I laugh so hard I almost mess up my lipstick. “You better, girl. I’m not letting you waste that expensive costume.”
And just like that—we’re ready—ready to step out, ready to host, ready for whatever this night decides to throw at us.
The guests start rolling in, and the house glows like something out of a haunted house for real. Costumes flood through the front door one after another, flashes of glitter, feathers, and fake blood everywhere. I can’t stop staring—everyone looks so good.
Some of the girls went all out—full witch costumes, velvet kitten body-suits, skirts so short they should come with a warning label. Slutty was clearly the theme, and they understood the assignment.
I’m just glad I haven’t seen another cop costume yet. That would’ve been sad for them to get kicked out so soon.
The guys, on the other hand, are either sweating to death in full masks and armor or is so committed to their character it’s like a damn comic con. There’s no in-between.
And honestly, I’m proud. Everyone stuck to the vibe.
This isn’t some lazy kickback—it’s a full-blown Halloween takeover.
The alcohol’s front and center, bottles lined up like an altar under the kitchen lights, counters stacked with pizza boxes and snacks.
People dive in the second they walk in, cups in hand before they even hit the backyard—where the real party’s at.
At the door, my brother’s holding it down like a pro. Towering over everyone, he doesn’t even have to say much—his size does the talking. Normally, he’s quick to be on some dumb shit, but thankfully tonight he seems chill enough.
He did give me an attitude earlier about not paying him enough to play security, but Levy stepped in and handled it.
Since he just started his new job earlier this week, he offered to pay my brother double what I promised—and that shut him up real quick.
For the first time in weeks, I feel that little wave of gratitude.
Things between us finally feel like they’re sliding back to normal, and I didn’t realize how much I missed that. The man I fell in love with.
Laughter spills over the beat, cups clinking, someone screaming over a drinking game.
Every corner of the house is alive. I’ve been running around all night—locking bedroom doors, fixing decorations, making sure the food doesn’t run out—and somehow, Levy and I still haven’t really seen each other yet.
I’ve been waiting for the moment he finally sees me in my costume. I can already feel his reaction buzzing under my skin, like anticipation has its own pulse.
I’m straightening a stack of pizza boxes when I feel a warmth behind me, the kind that creeps across your skin before you even turn around. The music, the chatter, and the drunken yelling from the backyard blurs for a second, the air shifting just for him.
I glance over my shoulder to see Levy in his bright orange prisoner jumpsuit, with fake numbers stamped across his chest, smirk already forming. His gaze drags over me in one slow sweep, from the brim of my police cap, to my thighs down to my heels. My stomach tightens, pulse tripping over itself.
“Damn,” he stretches—loud enough that a few people nearby glance over. He steps into my space, crowding me like the party isn’t happening around us. “You look way too good to be walking around like this without me.”
There’s pride in his voice, admiration too—but underneath that softness, there’s something else. Something that says, You’re mine. Don’t forget it.
Before I form a reply, his hands find me—one slipping around my waist, the other settling at the small of my back, guiding me closer.
He kisses me softly, almost reverent. The kind of kiss that feels like he’s putting on a show of sweetness even as his grip tightens just enough to remind me who’s really in control.
His lips brush my cheekbone, the corner of my mouth, under my jaw—each one placed like he’s marking territory without smudging my makeup.
I let out a breathy laugh, tipping my head back as he trails another kiss along my jawline. “Levy, people are going to see…”
“Let them,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re mine. I want them to see.”
His voice dips lower, sincerity woven into every word. “I’m the luckiest man in this whole damn party to have you as my girl.” His tone is velvet enough to weaken me, but the subtext hits even deeper—
You’re mine to show off. Mine to claim. Mine, period.
“You don’t know how bad I want to hike that slutty little skirt up, bend you over, and drag my tongue all over that wet, pretty pussy until you’re shaking for me.
” He slides his hand between my legs, grazing his fingers over my damp thong.
Heat shoots through me, and I look around fast, checking to make sure no one’s paying attention.
He’s so bold I love it. His lips brush my ear as he growls, “I can’t wait to tear this skirt up tonight and fill you up so much you’ll still be dripping in the morning, while you still beg for more.”
“You better, or I’ll put you back in jail,” I tease, grinning. I push him off, laughing under my breath, but before I can take a step, his rough hand smacks my ass. The sting burns in the best way, pulling a gasp from me.
He presses up against me from behind, his body firm against mine, his tongue traces the rim of my ear, slow and teasing, before he pulls back just enough to whisper, “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
He finally peels himself away, flashing me that sly grin before turning and heading toward the backyard. I watch him disappear into the crowd of costumes and flashing lights, already mingling like he’s known everyone here for years.
I drift into the living room, weaving between bodies, laughing when I recognize familiar faces.
The music is loud, drinks are flowing, and everyone’s already in high spirits.
I end up in a circle with a few people from work and one girl I remember seeing at a party months ago—now wearing nothing but a pair of shiny bunny ears, fishnets, and a skirt so short it might as well be missing.
As they chat, I nod along, but my mind starts to wander. Where’s Arina? It’s only been thirty minutes since the party started—she couldn’t have found someone already. But then again it is Arina.
I excuse myself with a smile and slip down the hallway, checking each of the bedroom doors as I go.
Every one of them is locked tight, just like we planned.
Still, I stop at Arina’s room, knocking lightly at first, then harder.
I wait, listening, giving it a solid thirty seconds. Nothing. No movement, no answer.
Frowning, I shake it off, deciding she must be floating around somewhere else.
I duck into the bathroom for a quick glance in the mirror, smoothing my hair and adjusting my red lipstick, making sure Levy didn’t smudge any away.
With one last look, I step out, and head toward the backyard to see what kind of scene Levy’s gotten himself into.
The second I step out into the backyard, it feels like walking into another world.
The fog machine is pumping, rolling clouds of mist across the grass while the black lights make every white costume and neon color glow like it’s alive.
The skeleton arch at the entrance towers over everyone, and the fake gravestones lining the fence catch the glow from the strobes, making them look almost real.
From across the yard, I spot Levy instantly. Even in that ridiculous orange jumpsuit, he’s handsome as ever—and he’s already the center of some small circle. We look good—hell, dangerously good. My thighs press together, I can’t help imagine him peeling that jumpsuit off later, just for me.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Arina tucked away in a shadowy corner near the fence, leaning in close to some guy.
I can’t see his face clearly—the fog’s too thick, and the strobes keep flashing like lightning—but I know her body language anywhere.
The playful curve of her smile, the slow tilt of her head.
She’s clearly already tipsy. And I know I’ll get the full story later— and probably in way more detail than I need to know.
I throw myself back into the madness, tossing out smiles, clinking cups, letting the music thump through my chest. Everyone’s buzzing, and the energy hits me like a shot I realize I haven’t had yet.
Then, like he owns the damn night, Levy appears.
He cuts through the crowd, two girls hanging off his every word, all giggles and glitter.
But the second his eyes land on me, it’s game over.
His smirk sharpens, and suddenly, the extras fade from his frame.
He offers the drink with a grin that feels warmer than the alcohol ever could.
“Here you go beautiful,” he grins, pressing the cup into my hand.
I brush a quick kiss against his lips before taking the cup. “Thanks, baby, right on time.” The liquor goes down—smooth, yet dangerous.
By the time I realize it, I’m about five drinks in—maybe more—but oh well. My limbs feel like jello, my grin’s permanent, and my feet are doing their own choreography. But at least I’m not obsessing over shit I can’t control.
I’m just... here. In the moment.
My brother’s playing bouncer at the front door like he’s getting paid too. My best friend is somewhere in the crowd, probably dragging someone to her room. And my Levy is right here in front of me, exactly where he’s supposed to be.
Tonight, I’m letting go. Just for tonight, I’ll give myself permission to have fun—and maybe cause a little chaos while I’m at it.