Scream For Us (Order of the Unseen)(16)

A dull ache settles between my legs at the thought of having three of them.

Ghost nods, and within seconds, the engines roar to life, echoing through the woods. When, unexpectedly, flashlights shine in our direction, and the leaves begin to rustle on the dirt ground. It’s now clear we are no longer alone.

“Hey!” a man loudly shouts. “This is the police. Hands where I can see them!”

“Now,” Ghost snaps, as all three of us take off, pulling off to the right with a screech of tires as we speed down the road.

“Stop right there!”

We faintly hear another police officer command, until the sound of his voice is drowned out from the loud revving of the motorcycles. My heart races, adrenaline coursing through me. All my senses become heightened as I grip Michael tighter, burying my face into his back.

Sirens wail, drawing in on us, flashing lights from police cars pull out in front of us down the road. And they’re headed straight toward us.

Ghost immediately slows down, and holds his arm out to the side, gesturing for us to bang a hard left turn down an abandoned side street.

“Get her out of here,” he shouts.

Michael makes the sharp turn, and my heart sinks.

“Wait,” I squeal, realizing that Ghost and Jason are not planning on accompanying us. “Wait!” I scream again, glancing back, only to notice they’re already gone.

And they’re headed straight for the police.

“What the fuck are they doing?” I plead to Michael, hugging him tighter.

“Don’t worry about them,” he consoles me. “They’ll be fine.”

“But how do you know that—”

Tightly gripping my knee, he caresses my skin. “It’s a distraction,” he explains, racing down the long, narrow road. “They know what they’re doing.”

“They do?”

He nods in response.

“Okay,” I weakly say, doubting him.

“Is this your first time running from the cops?” he asks, nonchalantly.

“Yes,” I admit. “Why?”

And then it hits me.

It’s not their first time. And from his eerie silence, he makes it clear that it won’t be the last.





Anxiously pacing across the living room of their apartment, negative thoughts and images flood through my mind. Worst-case scenarios. I am a complete and utter wreck, terrified of the unknown. Paranoia has me by the throat.

It’s a gut-wrenching feeling that I’m no stranger to.

The house is silent. All I can hear is a high-pitched ringing in my ears, along with the sound of Michael’s boots creeping up beside me. Releasing a deep breath, I nervously chew on my nails.

Walking up and down the hall, again and again, I try desperately to keep myself calm and collected. But it’s been too long. Something just isn’t right. And I can’t help the feeling of guilt that eats away at me with each passing second.

“It’s my fault,” I murmur, finally breaking my silence. “This is all my fault.”

“No,” Michael replies abruptly, spinning me around to face him, gripping me hard. “That’s not true.”

“You guys went there to get revenge for me,” I point out, gazing up at his cold, blank mask. “If it wasn’t for me, then we never would have gone there. Then, maybe the police wouldn’t have assumed that we somehow started the fire. I mean, that’s why they tried stopping us from leaving, right? Because they thought it was us?”

He remains silent.

Frowning, I gawk at him in horror. “Was it us?” I question.

Still, he remains silent.

“I just hope everyone got out in time,” I say, more to myself than to him.

Without warning, he removes his mask, and for the first time tonight, I’m seeing his face. And he’s so, brutally handsome. Strikingly handsome, with sharp, masculine features. Brown eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes that turn me to mush, along with blond, messy hair that’s loosely tied back.

He steps forward, towering over my small frame, forcing me backward until I’m trapped against the wall. “You’re safe,” he whispers, sending me in a trance. “Breathe.”

Inhaling a shaky breath through my nose, my body finally begins to relax.

“That’s it,” he urges, taking my hand, and placing it onto my chest. “Breathe.”

Again, I inhale a long breath, before slowly releasing it. The entire time, our eyes are locked in a captivating stare. There’s just something about the monotone, yet soft sound of his voice, and the way he soothes me.

There’s an endless depth behind his gaze, except he’s unreadable.

Empty.

Yet, I’m hypnotized. Locked in place. Unable to move.

To think.

“Good girl,” he praises, leaning into me. “Again, Quinn. Breathe.”

My heart rate slows, and I allow my eyes to shut, giving in to the comforting sensations that consume me as his voice silences my intrusive thoughts. Time passes by, and then out of nowhere, the sound of the front door crashing open brings me back.

Ghost and Jason enter the house, unmasked, covered in blood, and I run to them. Relief consumes me as they pull me into a strong embrace, and I silently scold myself for caring so much. For feeling so much for them, so quickly.