Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
The music was still playing downstairs, some classic tune that didn’t match the horror that clung to every corner of this house. Laughter echoed faintly beneath it, a cruel reminder that while I was breaking apart, they were enjoying themselves.
The bathroom door clicked shut, and I looked up to find Wilder crouched in front of me. Slowly, he reached up and lifted his mask. Seeing his face, fully and clearly, made everything worse. There he was—the man I loved, the man I thought I knew, staring back at me like nothing had changed.
“How could you do this to me?” My voice broke, and fresh tears spilled over my cheeks. “How could you?”
His expression softened, but his words were anything but gentle. “I’m doing this for you. For us.”
I shook my head, disbelief and fury battling for dominance. “You killed all of my friends.”
“Those weren’t your friends, baby girl. Liza was a fake two-faced cunt, Naija was okay but weak. Daniella’s a whore, and you don’t need friends like that. Gabe and Jason were no one to you. Ryan’s not a factor.”
“And my sister?” My voice trembled, barely audible.
Wilder’s gaze didn’t falter, and that was somehow worse. His hazel eyes bore into mine, unwavering, disturbingly sincere. “You’ll always have a sister,” he said, his tone quiet but firm, as if it were a fact written in stone. “I know how much that matters to you.”
My chest tightened, my breath catching in my throat as his words sank in. What does that even mean?
My mind raced, trying to decipher his cryptic assurance, but all I found was a gaping void where logic should have been.
“As for the rest…” His supple lips curved slightly, not quite a smile but something darker. “I’m your friend, Mint. Your best fucking friend. I’m all you need.”
I stared at him, trying to reconcile the man I had fallen for with the man standing before me now. “You’re insane,” I whispered.
His head tilted, and for a moment, I thought he might actually smile. Instead, he just nodded slightly, as though agreeing with me. “I am,” he admitted, his voice soft but laced with unshakable certainty. “I’m insane about you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us together.”
He truly believes this. The realization sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t just some sick game to him, this was his reality, and he was dragging me into it, piece by horrifying piece.
“So what next, Wilder?” My voice was quieter now, resigned as if my own mind had already given up the fight.
“Well,” he began, his tone casual. “First, we’re going to get you cleaned up. After that, you’re going to make a choice, and that will determine what happens from there.” He paused, and that shadow of a smile flickered again. “I was thinking ice cream and corndogs later. We haven’t done that in a while.”
I blinked, completely at a loss for how to process the words that had just come out of his mouth. My thoughts were a chaotic swirl of anger, fear, and confusion. How could he act like this was just another day for us?
And yet, a small, traitorous part of me that still clung to the way he’d always made me feel safe and loved—wanted to pretend, just for a moment, that we could go back to that, to before. But there was no going back. Not after everything he’d done.
I swallowed hard. “And if I don’t make a choice?”
He smiled this time. “Then I’ll make it for you.”
He straightened and moved toward the shower.
The sound of the water rushing to life filled the room as steam began to curl around us. I stared at him, trying to read the subtle movements of his body, searching for anything human, anything familiar.
“Is Daniella alive at least?” I dared to ask.
We’d fucking left her with these animals when they told us to run.
He paused, then turned to face me. “No.”
“This is all my fault,” I repeated the words Liza had hurled at me.
They carried the weight of everything I’d been trying to hold back. I shook my head, my whole body trembling. The image of Daniella, naked, bloody, and broken, crawling across the floor, wouldn’t leave me.
This was all my fault.
I’d brought these psychopaths right to them.
“Mint,” Wilder’s voice was low, almost soothing.
I shook my head again, harder this time. “This is all my fault,” I repeated, my voice cracking under the weight of my guilt. “If I hadn’t—if I hadn’t been here—” My words caught, a sob choking the rest of the sentence out of me.
He moved before I even realized it, crouching in front of me. His gloved hands settled on my knees. “This isn’t your fault, baby.”
“It is,” I snapped, my voice rising despite the tears choking me. “If I hadn’t come on this stupid trip—”