Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(53)

“Say no more,” she proudly says, smiling in approval. “Have fun.”

“I won’t be long,” I reassure her, heading for the staircase.

“Don’t rush home on my account!” I hear her call out from her room.

As I bolt down the stairs, my mind begins to recklessly wander. Memories of last night come flooding back, catching me completely off guard. I come to a dead stop on the bottom step, tightly wrapping my fingers around the banister of the staircase.

I should have known.

Halloween-themed music roars through the haunted house. The smoke thickens, and the bright light from the flames intensifies. Agonizing screams echo through the halls. The heat from the fire is intense, and even though I’m wearing his mask, it’s difficult to breathe.

Ghost lifts his head and fixates his gaze on the raging flames, creeping their way across the wood structures of the ceiling. He slams into me, again and again, before dropping the knife to the floor beside us.

He lifts my leg, rests it over his hip, and enters me deeper. Just as my orgasm swallows me whole, the screams fade away.

At the time, I thought they were screaming out of fear.

But now, I’ve come to realize I couldn’t have been more wrong…

They were screaming out of pain.

Screaming from the feeling of being burnt alive.

The saliva thickens in my mouth, and I suddenly feel sick.

It was an accident.

It had to be an accident.

Somehow, I end up parked outside the front of their apartment. How I even remember where they live in the first place is a question for another time.

Tonight… I need answers.

Before I lose my mind entirely.

I pound my fist on their door as a rush of adrenaline consumes me. At first, there’s no answer, so I find myself knocking even harder. The anticipation builds and builds, setting off a crazed feeling within me.

The door is suddenly yanked open, and Ghost stands tall in the doorway.

His cold eyes immediately soften once he realizes it’s me standing before him.

“Quinn,” he lets out, taken aback. “You never texted me back. I was getting worried.”

My face begins to flush, cheeks burning. I swallow down the lump in the back of my throat, trying my best to not look away from his face. But I can’t help myself. My gaze drifts down. He’s shirtless, his upper body covered in scars and ink, the waistband of his gray sweatpants hang low on his hips. His hair is soaking wet, so he must be fresh out of the shower.

Breathing in the scent of his Irish Spring body wash and aftershave, I fold my arms across my chest and step back.

A cold gust of air brushes against my backside, and my body begins to shiver.

He doesn’t even flinch.

“I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you,” I unthinkingly blurt out, straightening my posture. “All three of you.”

He steps aside. “Come in.”

I shake my head. “We can talk out here,” I insist.

His eyes narrow. “Oh?” he questions. “You sure? You’re shivering, baby—”

“Jensen! Micah!” I abruptly call out.

A crooked grin claims his face. Of course, he is amused.

“Did you kill them?”

“Quinn,” he cuts me off, glancing over my shoulder as he reaches for my wrist. “Come inside. Please.”

“You started the fire, didn’t you?” I accuse.

“For fuck’s sake—” he bites out. His fingers catch my wrist, and he pulls me inside, locking the door behind us. Turning to face me, he rubs the back of his neck.

“Well?” I impatiently ask, arching a brow. “Did you?”

He presses his lips in a firm, straight line, his expression completely unreadable. His eyes darken, but there’s this glimmer. A hint of amusement.

Humor.

Like people burning to death isn’t a big deal.

Isn’t a tragedy.

“I know your real name, too,” I carefully say, watching him closely. “Damien.”

He crookedly grins. “I would have told you,” he casually replies. “But you never asked. You actually seemed pretty set on calling me Ghost. Or, you know… daddy.”

Sensing a presence behind me, I spin around on my heel. “Hello, Jensen. Micah,” I announce, seeing the unease flicker in their eyes.

“Yeah. I know your real names,” I boldly state, glancing between all three of them. “My friend told me that you three have quite the reputation.”

Micah steps forward, eyes narrowed. Disregarding my statement, he changes the topic. “Is everything okay?”

Jensen watches me closely, remaining silent.

“I need you all to tell me the truth.” I turn back to Damien with a frown. “Eight people died last night, and we were there. All four of us. Did you guys start the fire?”

“It must have been mechanical,” Jensen says from behind me.

“Yeah,” Damien coolly answers at the same time. “It was us.”

My heart skips a beat as I blink up at him, completely speechless.

“Damien,” Micah scolds, irritated.

“Tread lightly, man,” Jensen adds, almost giving him a subtle warning.

“I’m not going to lie to you, little Quinn,” Damien softly lets out, stepping closer. “Yes, we started the fire. I told you we were going to scare them.” Suddenly, his eyes darken. “And that they were going to pay with their lives.”