Heathens & Hold Ups (Book 2 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 3- Callie

The harsh burn is exactly what I need. I slip my broken doll mask back down over my mouth until all that remains of my face is my lightly done up eyes. I didn't see the point in doing too much when my face was going to be covered all night. Bonus is that there's less to take off when we get back.

After searching for her icy blond hair and finding her pressed close enough to Michael Myers that they might be trying to absorb each other while they tangle their faces together, I blend myself into the crowd. Sweat is dripping from my hairline and into my eyes as I dance amid the crush of people.

A strong grip on my waist has me ready to turn around and tell the guy off. At least give me a little foreplay before you assume I want a rough hand. Even as the words build up, ready to be let loose, my body relaxes in his arms. Lemons.

"There's my Pet," he whispers I my ear. His warm breath along my skin has goosebumps erupting in its wake.

I don't dare turn around to face him, too scared this is my mind conjuring up the words I'm longing to hear. It's been a whole year. Last report I saw, not that I have a google notification set up for them or anything, they were in off in Hill Country, hours away. It's the tequila. Gotta be.

Still, I told myself on the drive here that I was going to live in the moment. Not one to make a liar of myself, I wrap a hand around the back of my mystery man's neck. My fingers meet his short hair and I imagine how it'll feel when I tug on it. Nicole was right. I need to get laid.

An inhale from him has my pussy fluttering and demanding I don't screw this up for her. He's going to speak and when he doesn't sound like my monster, my lust will wither and die just like it has every other time I have tried to break my self-imposed dry spell. If it's not them, it seems my subconscious can't get with the program. But maybe tonight, with everyone wearing masks, I can let loose and allow my imagination to run wild with who's underneath.

"Don't," I stop him. "No words. No names," I whisper. At least it feels like I do. Despite the pulsing music and people dancing around us, the two of us are wrapped in our own little bubble and the moment he speaks it'll burst.

He chuckles darkly and nips at the tip of my ear, pulling me closer until I can feel him digging into the curve of my ass. At least all of the running has been good for something. Good god. Sweat is coursing down my neck as we dance, his body molded to mine as we match the sensual beat and roll our bodies in sync. If this is how he dances, I think I can get my stupid brain to get over whatever silly hang-ups it has and take one for the team. His body is practically promising a happy ending for us both.

We've drifted closer to Nicole and we catch each other's attention. Her eyes widen to cartoonish proportions as she wiggles her brows at me. "You good?" She leans in.

"More than. You?"

"I'm about to climb this man like a tree and become his final girl," she rushes out. "But if you need me, I'll call it a night and we can bond over what could've been with a pint of ice cream and late night tv at the hotel."

I take a deep breath and remember who I am. New Callie has killed a man and owns her desires, no matter what they are. "Make sure your tracking app is on and send me a picture of his id and plate. We can compare notes in the morning."

"Same girlie. Love you and stay safe."

"Always. Love you too," I hug her and watch as she pulls her lucky stranger off through the crowd and the exit.

Sinking back into Mystery Man's chest, my head starts sending smoke signals that I've made the stupidest mistake of my life. Considering the long dramatic list, I give it a minute of my time. I don't know a thing about this guy and I just sent my bestie off like we're not hours away from home. This guy could be a serial killer and I just served myself up like his latest victim.

He chuckles and I'd bet anything I said that aloud. Geez, I thought I had finally gotten that nervous little habit under control.

My heart is racing like a Formula 1 driver. A huff that's less laugh and more 'what have I just done' slips past my lips. The sweat dripping down my body is less sexy dancing and more imminent panic precursor.

I'm dragged through the crowd, head down as I fight to breathe through the panic swarming my chest and head. Mystery Man has his hands on my shoulders now, pressing my head between my knees as I lean against a wall and try to regulate my breathing.

A shadow at his side closes me in, his black shoes stepping into view and I realize how badly I've screwed up. I was too focused on my panic attack to pay any attention to the quiet corridor he led me to. The music is still present but dimmed. The red lights that only barely illuminated the club are all but absent here, just an old bulb trying its best to cut through the darkness and losing the fight as it flickers in vain.

After all I went through with Colton, I've learned to never allow myself to be defenseless. I keep a small blade strapped to my thigh, just in case I ever need it. I inch my hand down slowly, pretending like I'm still trying to get myself together. It's not hard, an old habit that has come in handy on more than one occasion. My fingers wrap around the handle and my body slows, focusing on its task like I've trained it to do over the past few months. I never want to freeze in fear again, not when I can do something about it. Still, I give my stranger the benefit of the doubt. I want to believe that I'm reading this whole situation wrong and my night will end with multiple orgasms and a story to top Nicole's in the morning.

I rise slowly, my blade hidden in the folds of my dress and gasp. My hands are clammy and I wipe them hurriedly at my sides and I try to merge what I think I'm seeing with reality. Lean frame clad in black boots, dark jeans, basic dark tee, leather jacket a size too big as though he borrowed it, and a white mask splattered with fake blood that reads 'Kiss Me' on the forehead. Beside him stands an eerily still, matching frame dressed in shiny black loafers, dark dress pants that I would bet are perfectly tailored to match his white button up with the sleeves firmly rolled down so that no skin shows, and a basic smiling man's Purge mask.

"Miss us?"

The ground rushes up to meet me as my blade clatters to the floor. All I can think as this inky abyss swallows me, at least I didn't freeze.