Page 21 of Lucky 14

I stare at the hotel notepad I’ve filled with notes. I don’t have my phone, so I haven’t been able to write anything down in my regular app, and it’s driving me insane.

My gut churns.

I should have fought more when the fucking giant man took my phone before I got on the plane. He slapped a number in my hand, saying he’d give the phone back, but here I am, hours later, and no phone. I can only tell what time it is by the glowing red clock by the side of the bed.

I’ve heard people milling around and leaving the rooms. One quick glance showed they were all still wearing some sort of mask. That freaked me out on the plane. Because why are they doing that? Is everyone here sick? Did I pick a cult where everyone is sick?

I pace in front of my bed. Are they going to do some sort of weird blood ritual? Some animal sacrifice to cast a curse on anyone who would get between our love?

I stop short. I won’t be killing any animals. Also, not super into cursing anyone. Can we just enjoy our tropical getaway, throw a glitter bomb on our enemies’ porches, and call it good? Oh, and get medicated for the mask thing.

I start pacing again. Why the hell did I even get on that plane? Again, I curse the bottle of tequila I drank the night before. They say tequila will make your clothes fall off, but it just makes me lonely. Pretty sure I tried to sit next to someone on the flight, started chatting with him, then he got up and moved. That hurt. People always seem to leave when I am around. I don’t get it.

My face burns. I’m never drinking again.

Suddenly, there’s a crack at my door. I jump, whirling to face it.

The crack comes again. Someone is knocking. Harshly.

My heart starts racing.

“Piano fingers!” It’s a female voice. “Get your bitch ass out of bed.”

A woman? I sneak up to the door and peek through the peephole. There’s a woman standing outside my room, and not just any woman. The woman with the shaved blonde hair from the bar. The woman who got me to sign up for this shit in the first place. The woman who can answer why my phone was taken away, what the hell these games are, and when I can see Poppy again.

Unlocking the door, I yank it open.

She gives me a bored look. “Quit hiding. Tonight’s the big night.”

“Tonight?”

The woman is holding something and wearing a shirt that says, ‘You say “kill me” one more time, and I’ll take it seriously’.

“Games start in ten minutes.” She hands me the thing in her hand. It’s a deer skull. Only, it’s not a deer skull, it’s a mask.

I don’t take the mask. “What the hell is going on? Where’s my phone?”

“Take it.” She shoves the mask into my stomach, then acts like she’s going to drop it.

I catch it, reluctantly. “What is up with all the masks?”

I think I notice a smirk before it’s gone again. “Just put it on and come downstairs.”

“Is everyone contagious? Will I get my phone?”

“Sure, kid.” She pulls a half-mask up from her neck. As she does, a man appears at the end of the hallway.

“Oh shit,” the woman mutters, before he starts striding toward us. He’s huge, with dark hair and mean, empty eyes. He’s the kind of person I’d cross the street to avoid.

I start to back into the room, but the woman holds her ground and just crosses her arms. The man’s gaze snaps between us, then at the mask I’m holding. Suddenly, he’s right there in front of me, and his hand is around my neck, shoving me against the door. I stumble, but he follows, slamming me and the door against the doorstop. “Who the fuck are you?”

All the air is crushed out of my lungs, and I struggle to breathe.

The man cocks his head.

“Leave him alone, Manson. He’s just a toy.” The woman sounds bored.

“We have a toy, Riley. She’s waiting for us.” The man’s fingers squeeze my neck harder, and I can feel my heartbeat under my skull. I scramble, scratching at his arms, but his grip doesn’t relent.