Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3) - Page 63

“Boo,” he breathed out.

I gasped, crying out and running as I pushed off the island and bolted through the kitchen. I scrambled for the back door, but it was suddenly pushed closed just as I reached it, and I fell onto the floor, instantly scurrying in the other direction, back toward the foyer and the front door.

My phone. My fucking phone. I wouldn’t have time to stop for it.

Seriously, if this was a fucking prank, I was going to kill my sister.

It was a clear shot to the front door, so I ran. My hands slammed into the door, I grabbed the handle and yanked it open, and raced through, taking a single step outside.

But just then, an arm circled my waist, catching me mid-step, and pulled me back in, shutting the door.

I cried out as the tall body behind me now fixed both arms around me, holding my arms down, and pressed me into the door to contain my struggles.

“Damon?” I choked out. “Damon, is that you?”

Even though I was sure there were several people who might get off on a good prank—especially at Arion’s behest—he was the first one I thought of. It didn’t even occur to me he’d be here tonight, especially with the order to stay away from me, but it was entirely possible he showed up for the party, right?

“This isn’t funny!” I shouted.

I kicked at the door, trying to push off it and back into him, but he just picked me up and moved me away. He released me, and my hand

s shot up to touch the wall.

The corner. He put us in the corner, next to the ballroom.

I whipped around, now free, and veered around him to get away. But he was there, stepping in front of me again.

My chest rose and fell, working double-time, as I shot to the other side and tried to get out of there.

But again, he was there.

I backed up, shaking my head. “Who are you? What is this?”

Why wasn’t he talking?

I inhaled a shaky breath through my nose, but I didn’t smell the smoke on him I smelled on Damon the other day. Damon smoked all the time from what others said. Was it not him?

“What?” I bellowed. “What do you want?”

But he just stood there.

I bared my teeth, anger rising. And then I shoved at his chest.

He barely moved.

I growled and went ape shit, whipping my hands across his face and pounding my fists into his chest, but he didn’t answer me, and he didn’t try to stop me. I darted left again, trying to get out, but he slid in front of me, and when I veered right, it was the same. He wouldn’t let me go. He was a wall.

My chin trembled. “Who…who are you?”

He didn’t utter a word, though. All I heard were the breaths pouring into his lungs and exhaling, the sound deafening, because he was right fucking there in front of me. Like an animal, unable to communicate but could clearly eat and breathe.

God, who are you?

I shoved my whole body into him and opened my mouth and screamed as loud as I could. “Help! Help me!”

I grunted, trying to budge him as I shouted.

But then his whisper hit my ear. “They can’t hear you.”

Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance
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