“Why are you shaking, baby?” Easton asks, holding me just as fiercely.
I let my tears finally break free, feeling safe in his arms.
“Scar? Talk to me.”
“Just get me out of here. Please.”
Easton pulls away from our embrace and entwines his hand in mine before taking the lead out of this maze. As I take stock of his costume from behind, I finally understand what Kennedy and Lincoln were trying to hint at. Easton is dressed in his usual black T-shirt and jeans, with only the subtle difference of a devil-horns headband decorating his raven head as his costume. I’d find it amusing if I weren’t still feeling the aftershocks of being scared to death.
When he stops abruptly and begins to feel the wall beside us, my confusion overpowers my previous fear.
“Easton?”
He throws me a conspiring wink, his finger placed at the center of his full, kissable lips. I seal mine shut when a sliver of the wall cracks open. In one quick movement, he pulls me inside and closes the makeshift wall behind us. There is even less light in here. We are embedded in complete darkness, and if he weren’t holding my hand, I’d curl up into a ball and cry.
“Open your eyes, Scar.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t!” I shriek out as I begin to shiver profusely once again.
He hugs me in place as I try to break free from my frantic state.
“Listen to me, Scar. Those voices in your head are just that—voices. They can’t hurt you. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise you.”
“Promises were made to be broken.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“Then trust me. Just trust me, Scar.”
With Easton’s firm hold on me, I crack my eyes open and see that he has pulled his phone out of his pocket to shed some light into our surroundings, relief finally settling on my cold bones.
I blink away my tears, hating how he’s seen me fall apart this way. The dark terrifies me, but within Easton’s embrace, there is no greater fear than the one clutching on to my heart with one innocent touch.
“What is this place?” I hiccup, cleaning the vestige of my tears from behind my mask.
“Let me show you,” he whispers in my ear, causing a delicious shiver that replaces the bone-chilling one I had just moments ago.
With our hands locked tightly together, we walk through the dark tunnel until a spec of light shines in the distance. I let go of his hand, desperate for the light beaming through. When I reach the source, my mouth goes agape at what I find. A large window with a clear view of—what I can only assume is—the Hamilton living room.
“Can they see us?” I ask, pointing to the costume-wearing crowd on the other side of this window.
“Not a bit.”
“I don’t understand,” I stutter as he grabs my hand again, leading me to the next open batch of light. This time it’s a large ballroom where kids are dancing and having a good time. “How can they not see us? Or hear us since we can hear them?”
“Just how these back halls were designed, I guess,” he explains, his eyes transfixed on me. When he sees my confusion is just as prominent, he takes me to another window, this one with a direct view of an empty library. “You see, the Richfields were a part of the underground railroad back in the day, and sometimes they needed to spy on their guests to be positive no one knew what they were up to. I’m sure that, from time to time, they hid plenty of people in these same long corridors, too.”
“But wait, I’m confused. Wasn’t this house remodeled over the years? Why did they keep this hidden passageway afterward if it was no longer needed?”
“I guess, when you start spying on the people around you, it becomes addictive. Obtaining secrets has always been a Richfield family tradition. Some habits are hard to break.”
He teasingly pokes my nose with his knuckle.
“Hmm. Did you and Lincoln play around in here when you were kids? Is that how you learned about these secret passageways?” I ask, wanting to detour Easton from his current train of thought. I still feel vulnerable enough as it is, without his innuendos adding to my fragile state.
“Nope. I’ve never even asked him if he knows these halls exist.”
“Really? Then how do you know about them?”
“I once followed Lincoln’s older brother, Teddy, in here. He didn’t see me, but I saw him,” he explains, but as the words leave his mouth, his thoughts take him somewhere else—to a place that seems to trouble him somewhat.
“East? Is everything alright?” I question worriedly, placing my open palms on his chest, hoping it’s enough to bring him back to me.
He pulls my hands up and kisses my knuckles, using them to caress his cheek afterward. I’m about to ask him again what’s wrong when the door to the library creaks open.
Finn Walker and Stone Bennett stumble into the room, their mouths latched on each other. True to Halloween form, they are fully dressed, from head to toe, in one of the best iconic couples I’ve seen so far at the party. In fishnet tights and shorts, a Daddy’s Lil’ Monster T-shirt, paired with a freaking baseball bat, no less, Stone’s version of Harley Quinn looks badass. Her boyfriend Finn is another sight to behold, pulling off Heath Ledger’s Joker to a T. By the way they’re trying to claw through their clothes, their make-out session will turn into a live porno soon enough, making me gulp down and take a step away from the one-way mirror.
Easton, however, has different plans. He grabs me by the waist, firmly slamming my back against his chest, so I have no option but to stare at the view on the other side of the glass. Stone begins to take Finn’s shirt off as they both walk toward the nearest sofa.
“We should go.”
“Shh,” Easton whispers in my ear. “We don’t want to miss the show.”
I try to pull away, but his grip on me is like ivy on a vine. I’m about to protest, yet again, when Easton starts rubbing his nose up and down the patch of skin behind my ear as if he knows that one spot makes my knees weak.
“Just watch,” he coos, licking the sliver of skin, trailing his tongue down until he reaches my exposed neck.
I bite my inner cheek to avoid revealing how good it feels. My eyes go back to the library, trying to avert them again, when Finn rips through Stone’s fishnets and spreads her legs on the sofa, before hiding his face in between her thighs.
“This is wrong,” I mumble, but my reprimand comes out more breathless than stern.
“So is being good all the time. You know that as well as I do, Angel,” he mocks, before sinking his teeth into my shoulder.
Although he just insinuated that he wants us to watch his friends have sex, from my viewpoint, he isn’t nearly as interested in the show as he wants me to believe. He seems far too engrossed with my neck to pay attention to anything else.
A loud slap brings my attention back to the library. Finn’s hand is now imprinted on one of Stone’s ass cheeks as he picks her up from the couch to place her knees on top of the cushion.