“He doesn’t want her,” Isabella told me. “My sister told me about him. They were in school together, too. Damon had a really bad reputation. And I mean, bad. People were genuinely afraid of him.”
“I don’t care,” I fired back, keeping my voice low. “I don’t want to hear about his sex life.”
“Girls hated him,” she went on as if I’d said nothing. “Man, they hated him with a passion.”
“Didn’t stop them from going after him, like it was going to be some big surprise when he screwed them and then ditched them,” I pointed out.
I mean, honestly, in all fairness, I wasn’t sure why he was hated more than the other horseman. They did the same thing. They all slept around.
“That’s not what he did, though,” Isabella explained. “Didn’t anyone tell you how he was? I mean, with other girls. Not you.”
The reminder that she knew—that everyone knew and saw the video of Damon and me and how he was with me—sobered me for a moment, making me forget what was happening in the other room.
“I think that’s part of the reason you had to leave school after that video,” she pointed out. “They hated you.”
“Who?”
“All the girls he wouldn’t sleep with,” she replied. “Rumor has it, Damon’s appetite is not always fun to satisfy.”
All the girls he wouldn’t sleep with. So he didn’t sleep around? Sure.
And then I remembered what my sister just said a moment ago, and how I met him when I was a teenager, and I paused.
“He likes to watch,” I said, finally understanding.
“No,” Isa corrected me. “He likes to fuck with heads and then watch.”
Seemed about right.
“Sex doesn’t turn him on,” my friend continued. “Deviance is what he likes. Stories abounded, so I don’t know what’s true, but there were rumors that he got Abigail Clijsters’ sister to screw her older sister’s boyfriend. Another story about a gang of guy students at a young teacher’s house one night. Will Grayson and some hotel maid. A couple of football players getting drunk and going at it in a car in the woods…”
She trailed off, and I didn’t know for sure if anything she said was true, but…a small part of me wanted to believe it was. Maybe it made me less his victim to know he was the fucked-up one and not me for falling for his lie.
“He would take girls out,” she went on, “let them think he was interested, and he was, but his pleasure was harder earned, let’s just say. After he got them to do whatever he wanted them to do, sometimes he’d get off on them and sometimes he wouldn’t.”
“And if he didn’t, they felt like even bigger shit afterwards,” I added.
“Used,” she agreed. “They degraded themselves for him and got nothing in return. He coerced but never forced. He kept you to himself, though. I wonder why.”
The voices in the next room were barely audible as I thought about her question. She was one of the few people who saw that video and didn’t see me asking for it. She knew he committed a crime. The other girls resented me after his arrest, because in their eyes, I got what they wanted.
Well, they could have him. I—
“Huh?” I heard my sister blurt out, sounding suddenly upset.
Her soft, sexy voice had changed. What happened?
“Get out,” Damon said.
“What is your problem?” I heard her demand, but I wasn’t staying to get caught here if he was kicking them out.
I pushed at Isa, backing away and signaling we needed to leave.
“Out,” Damon shouted as we left the closet, and we dashed into the hallway as I heard the closet door swing open and my sister come flying through.
“Told you,” Isa shot in my ear as we dove into my bedroom.
Strange appetite, indeed.
Whatever. I was just glad whatever my sister was trying to make happen failed miserably. I blamed her as much as him for our current situation, and I hoped she was unhappy with her new husband.
Her husband.
I shook my head clear, feeling something hit my body. I reached up and caught it.
“I got your pants,” Isabella said. “Get dressed, and let’s go.”
Go where?
Although I no longer cared as long as it was out of this house.
I had no idea what she and Jade had planned for tonight as long as I didn’t think about him.
Or her.
“Do you want me to read it to you?” Jade asked.
“Just paraphrase.”
She put a pen in my hand and led me to the wooden makeshift counter, placing the tip on the line where I was supposed to sign.
“It’s a disclaimer,” she explained, “talking about how the haunted house is a 4D experience, and the actors will engage with you and touch you. They’re not responsible or liable for any health problems. If you feel like anything is too much or you want it to stop, simply yell “quarter” and they will stop and offer assistance if you want to leave.”
My hand started to shake as I pressed the pen to the paper and signed my name. I laughed at myself. You would think I’d be used to being scared by now, but the idea of mad doctors, ax murderers, and chainsaws was even freakier when you couldn’t see them.
Quarter. Like as in ‘forgiveness’ or ‘safe haven’? Well, at least they had a safe word.
“Stay close,” Isa told me as we headed toward the entrance. “Hang onto my belt loop or arm, and let me know if you want to leave, okay?”
“Oh, you’ll run before I do,” I joked.
“Probably right,” Jade chuckled.
I heard Isabella’s tsk but didn’t give her any more crap. The sun had set a couple hours ago, and I wished I’d brought a coat as we shuffled through the fallen leaves toward the warehouse and conglomeration of various-sized sheds that made up the haunted house.
The chill in the air seeped through my oversized black sweater, my exposed shoulder already feeling like I had an ice cube sitting in that one spot, but my legs were nice and toasty in the leather pants. Thank goodness I wore my Vans, since I was sure I’d be stumbling and scurrying a lot tonight.
“Welcome to Coldfield,” a dark, deep voice suddenly said right next to me and I jumped a little.
Shit. I chuckled and took a step away, hearing my friends’ laughter, as well.
“Nice blood,” Jade commented, and I guessed he must be one of the actors sent to greet everyone in line. Blood, huh? I imagined prop blood on his face and clothes. Maybe a hacksaw in his hand with a really dull blade, if any, of course, to keep it safe.
Something brushed my arm, and then I heard his voice right next to me again. Did he move in closer when I moved away?
“Did you girls sign the waiver?” he asked.
“Yes,” Isa answered, followed by a little giggle.
“Do you know the safe word?” he pressed.
“Yes,” she said again.
“Good.” I could damn-near feel his breath on me, and I almost forgot to breathe. “Don’t use it. I don’t like to stop my fun.”
They laughed again, comfortable in their knowledge that they were indeed safe, but all I could do was stand there, déjà vu weighing me down like an anchor. The fear factor, the taunting, his threatening promises… So much for getting away from the house, everyone in it, and clearing my head tonight. This guy was Damon. Or like the point-five version.
And then I felt it.
His breath was on my cheek as he spoke. “I’ll see you inside,” he whispered.
My body went cold and my chest caved. God, he was like him. The tone. The taunt.
“He likes you,” Jade teased. “Watch your back inside, Winter.”
I barely breathed.
My kind of fun has a price. Better enjoy myself while I can.
My blood pumped hot, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t cold anymore.
I knew this guy wasn’t him. He didn’t sound like him or smell like him or feel like him, but I lost all semblance of thought or reason as the line moved, Isa moved, and took me with her. Maybe I should be afraid of walking in here and remembering the terror Damon caused, but I went anyway, unable to resist wanting to test myself. To feel whatever was inside again. Even if just to see if I would handle myself any differently.