Page 19 of Unlocking Ruin

Ignoring my stomach, I stare at my ankle. Great; it’s swollen now. I can put weight on it, but it hurts. I haven’t stopped to ice it. I tripped on the stairs when I was bringing my groceries inside, rolling my ankle to the point of yelping in pain. My witch’s broom is now a crutch. I look like a witch whose spell backfired.

A faint laugh has me hobbling to my kitchen window. Here they come. The first group of kids comes running down the sidewalk. My chest sinks; they look so happy. Every kid deserves a childhood like that.

“Showtime,” I smirk, determined to make tonight a success for the little kids.

Holding my broom, I hop to get the candy bowl. “How’s this gonna work?”

I try to tuck the bowl under my armpit, between my side and the broom. I manage to get to my front door, but I leave a trail of candy behind me. I can’t do this on repeat, which means I’ll have to sit on my stoop and hand out the candy.

Swinging open my front door, I’m greeted by half a dozen cute faces. I spot three classic superheroes, a princess, a ghost, and one child in an inflatable flamingo costume. At the edge of the street, their parents wave.

“Trick-or-treat,” I greet them, but I sound like I’m on the verge of tears. My stomach is crying as it struggles to digest all the candy I ate.

Little hands dive into the bowl, almost pushing me off-kilter. I lean more into the broom. With my luck, I’ll impale myself on it by the end of the night. I let them take a handful each since I bought so much.

After they run off with smiles, I settle on my stoop and set the broom beside me. I reach up, tug down my witch’s hat, and lean against one of my carved pumpkins. “Thanks, buddy,” I mutter, resting my elbow on it.

I spend the rest of the evening making sure every kid leaves with a huge smile. It might seem simple to some—just candy—but for a few kids, this candy will keep their bellies full.

Once it hits nine, the crowds have slowed to a trickle. Time to turn it in. I stand and hobble inside.

“Ice. I need ice,” I mumble, as I struggle to stand without falling. Maybe I need to go to urgent care. On Halloween that place will be a madhouse. I’ll wait until tomorrow to see if it gets better.

I toss the bowl of candy down next to the door, close it, and slide the lock into place. Then I rest the witch’s broom against the wall. Pressing my toes down first, I try to lightly hop, not putting too much weight on my ankle.

I take three steps before my doorbell rings. Sighing, I tip my head back.

Should I ignore it? What if the kid is hungry?

“Coming,” I shout, as I turn around and hop back. My eyes drop to the candy bowl on the floor. Bending to get it takes so long I fear the kids may have already left.

Twisting open the lock, I slap on a tired smile and say, “Trick-or-treat?” I hold out the candy bowl as I grasp onto the door for balance.

“Both.”

My eyes rise higher and higher, until they meet sky-blue eyes that have haunted my dreams and nightmares. “You,” I gasp.

“Happy Halloween, Little Thief.” He reaches his hand into my candy bowl and takes one. His fingers unwrap it with a killer’s grace: slow, methodical. As if he were admiring the dissection. He raises it to his lips and pops it into his mouth. He hums in approval, but it sounds way too sexual.

Meanwhile, I’ve turned to stone just like the witches in Hocus Pocus.

“I told you I’d chase you.” He smirks as he licks the chocolate off his lips. “Gotcha.”

CHAPTER 4

Rylan

The satisfaction of slamming the door shatters when his boot blocks it. I gasp, hard and sharp. Fuck!

The masked man from the library bursts in so quickly I stumble backward, losing my balance. My poor ass will be as bruised as my ankle; the wood floors in my tiny house are unforgiving. Candy goes flying, pelting me as it rains down to the floor.

Fate mocks me as a full-size candy bar smacks me right in the head. Who knew a Snickers could hurt that bad? See, this is why you stick to Tootsie Rolls, people!

Right before my ass hits the ground, hands close around me, unyielding and warm. His grip is foolproof. There is no escaping him tonight. My stomach plummets as my feet leave the ground, breathless as he lifts me with a strength that makes my heart roar.

My shoulder presses into the hard plane of his chest, his heat seeping through my cheap dress. Every muscle in my body tightens in his hold. I force myself to meet his eyes, but my gaze is drawn to the neon pink skeleton mask covering most of his face—its toothy smile makes this feel like a sick game of hide-and-seek rather than a fight for my life.

The pink mouth curves suggesting a devilish grin beneath, his eyes glinting with the hard pride of someone who’s won. I’m officially his captive. There’s no way I’m getting out of his grasp tonight. No running like in the library.