Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

Shit. Was that grave empty?

“Looks like she scares easily,” another one said, getting up from the stone and blowing out smoke. “Works for me.”

What?

I started to back away and turn around, but then one of them stepped in front of me, making me jump.

“Want to play a game?” he asked, mischief in his brown eyes.

“No.”

“It’s called Seven Minutes in Heaven.” He took my hand, handing me a penny. “Toss this into the air. Whichever one of us catches it gets to take you there.”

‘There?’ Heaven?

“No, thanks.” I turned in a circle, looking for anyone. Lev’s black Mohawk, David’s shaved head, Damon’s cigarette smoke billowing in the air…

“Toss it,” another guy demanded.

“Bite me!” I threw the fucking penny at him, and all of a sudden, every single one of them dived for the coin.

Shit! They scrambled, falling over each other and laughing, but before I thought to spin around and get my ass out of there, the brown-eyed one with the black leather jacket stood upright, raising his fist triumphantly, no doubt with the penny inside of it.

“Get her!” he shouted.

“What?” I blurted out.

They all rushed right for me, and I reared back as they grabbed my arms, the skin of my wrists burning as they hauled me forward.

“No, no!”

But they didn’t listen. They swung me over the hole, and I squirmed and struggled, but they quickly dropped me the shallow distance to the bottom of the black grave.

I landed, stumbling to stay on my feet, and slammed into the wall of the grave, my wrist suddenly aching. I sucked in breath after breath, instantly spinning in a circle to make sure the grave was empty.

Dirt all around, dirt under my shoes…I didn’t know if this was a fresh grave dug for a service this weekend or an old grave just not dug deep enough to reach the casket underneath.

“Oh, God.” I jumped up, trying to grab hold of the land at the top, but I only got dirt, my fingers sliding right through it.

“Get me out of here!” I barked.

I tried the other side of the hole, jumping again and again, trying to get a grip.

But then a figure landed to my right, and I turned around, facing the brown-eyed one again.

“It’s only seven minutes,” he said in a cocky tone. “How much damage can I really do?”

“Let’s find out!” one of his buddies crowed.

Brown-eyes smirked and moved for me. “Come on, baby.”

“Stop!” I shoved him, twisting around and jumping up, pushing myself as high as I could and finally catching some grass.

But my fingers tore right through it, and I fell back down, crashing into the other side of the grave. My bare arm ground against the wet earth, the roots spilling out and scratching my skin.

And he was on me again. He pushed me into a corner, gripping my waist. “What’s your name?”

“What’s your name?” I retorted, gritting through my teeth.