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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.

The air turned thick and musty as we stepped over the threshold and drafts hit me, like there was fake fog. My friends immediately started laughing and making surprised sounds, but since I couldn’t see what they were seeing, I had to rely on everything else to get a picture of the atmosphere in my head.

I absorbed the scent of water on rocks, like a cave, and the echoes of muffled screams, howls, and cries in the distance. Some of it was sound effects, but others clearly weren’t.

And somewhere, far off, the merry, child-like tune of a carousel pierced the windy night.

Something touched the top of my head, and I ducked, my heart leaping in my chest as I laughed. They had people in the rafters.

Coldfield was a Halloween attraction that popped up a couple of years ago, and no one knew who owned it, but everyone seemed to love it. Overnight—every September thirtieth—the old warehouse on the outskirts of town was finally put to use and transformed, now attached to an array of sheds, nooks, and outbuildings. Some people missed the parties they had out here on Devil’s Night, but most loved the new haunted theme park, especially with The Cove—the old amusement park up the coast a few miles—now shut down and abandoned.

“Pray fooooor the dead, and the dead will pray for youuuuuu,” a creepy-ass voice said, and I felt a plastic bag blow into my body with a breeze. “They will pray for you and they will prey on you.”

A cackling laugh followed, and I pushed the huge plastic sheet away from me, but as my hand dipped into the plastic, it hit something solid, and then…a male growl followed, the plastic was all over us, and arms and legs attacked through the sheet.

“Ah! Ah!” the girls screamed, scrambling away as I tightened my grip on Isa’s arm.

My stomach flipped, and I breathed out a small laugh.

I inched toward the far wall to get away from the huge guy behind the tarp and felt a hand poking out of the wall. I jumped back, but it grabbed for me, and we all were laughing as a dozen or more hands reached for us out of both sides of the hallway now.

We moved from room to room, some of it—like the evil operating room—going over my head, because there weren’t many sounds or screams or anything to give away what was actually going on, but I liked the juggernaut and his sledgehammer, pounding the floor ahead of us and chasing us into one room after another. My heart beat so hard, but it was thrilling to be chased, because I knew I was safe. I wasn’t as scared as the other two when people came out of the portraits, because obviously, I couldn’t see them following us with their eyes.

The spiral staircase almost made me pee my pants, though, single file and being chased up the tiny and steep incline by Jason Vorhees. You didn’t want to be taking up the rear in a situation like that, and of course, I always did, because I had to follow instead of lead.

It was fun, though. And I was too distracted to be worried about the shitstorm at my house.

“Oh, shit!” Isabella shouted.

“What?” Jade asked.

“There! When the light flashes again, look.”

I gripped Isa with both hands, huddling behind her and waiting for whatever was coming.

“Oh, shit!” Jade yelled.

What? What was going on?

They laughed. “He’s getting closer every time the light flashes!” Jade squealed.

And then I heard it.

The fucking chainsaw.

I groaned, my knees shaking. I hated Leatherface.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance