Haunt by Merlin AJ

Author:Merlin, AJ
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

7

The first thought to go through my mind is that he has the knife.

The second is that I’m absolutely screwed and still stuck to the shelf behind me. I stand in place, frozen, the closet barely big enough for both of us. Even with me pressed back against the shelves as hard as I can be, I can still feel the heat radiating from his body only centimeters in front of me.

But I can’t say anything. I can’t seem to find the words, and I worry that if I’m the first to break the silence in this small, dark place, somehow this will be real. Somehow, it’ll be worse.

A touch on my cheek makes me flinch, and a low whine bubbles from my lips as leather-gloved fingers stroke my along my jaw. When I start moving, trying to writhe against him, I hear a soft murmur from behind the mask, though it’s barely there and almost inaudible.

“W-what?” I gasp, head jerking up to search the darkness for his mask. But it really is so dark in here, and all I can see from the light under the door is a vague silhouette.

But he doesn’t speak again, nor bother to repeat himself as he leans in close. I hear the shift of something above me, and I can feel the brush of his arm against my hair as he settles forward to lean against the shelves behind me. Which, of course, presses the length of his body to mine, an unyielding wall between me and escape.

“Stop,” I whisper, jerking on my hoodie to try to free myself. “Stop,” I say again, stronger this time, and shove against his chest.

Harrow only chuckles. It’s a low, soft sound from behind his mask, and he leans forward until the plastic of his mask brushes my cheek. “But I haven’t even done anything to you yet,” he murmurs in my ear; the words are so soft it feels like he’s telling me some kind of clandestine secret. His voice is deeper than Ravage’s, though I can’t tell much else about it. His hand on my jaw moves, blindly pushing my hair back behind my ear softly, gently.

Like he fucking cares.

My soft growl of protest only makes him huff a soft chuckle. Without warning, he presses his palm over my mouth, gripping both sides of my jaw and pushing my head back against the shelf behind me. Again I feel the brush of his mask against my face, and I close my eyes at the fearful anticipation that has my stomach twisting with panic and…something I refuse to name.

“I’m not like Rav,” he murmurs. “I don’t get off on you fighting me and making me hurt. In fact”—his fingers flex in warning, tightening painfully on my jaw—“I suggest you do what I say, little girl. I won’t hesitate to discipline you if you need to be convinced to behave.”

Fuck. A shudder goes through me that’s not quite from fear, and I whine behind his hand as he pulls back.

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