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Haunting Adeline

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Chapter 29
The Manipulator
“I think if I don’t go sit the fuck down, I’m going to collapse. You’ll have to peel me out of this
mud.”

I point towards a bench. “Go ahead and relax. I’m going to go through the House of Mirrors real
quick.”

“Fine by me, it’ll take you forever to get out of that thing, and it’ll be time to go.”

The House of Mirrors has always been one of my favorite places. It’s an elaborate maze of
mirrors, and very difficult to find your way out of. It’s one of the biggest buildings at the fair, and
they fill every inch of it with mirrors.

The fair will close in about a half-hour. It’s pushing it, but it should be just enough time to get
through it if I concentrate.

The house is painted all black—no array of colors, flashing of lights, or smoke. I’ve always
thought it was trippier like this. Sometimes it feels like being in a silent room, left with nothing but
your thoughts as your own image haunts you.

It takes all of five minutes before I’m thoroughly lost. I keep my hands held out before me,
preventing me from running face first into one of the mirrors.

I did that a couple of years ago and my nose was bruised for a week.

A few minutes pass by with nothing but the company of my own reflection. My heart rate is
pumping erratically, my breathing uneven with excitement. Despite the pounding in my chest, this
is where I feel most… normal.

Off in the distance, I hear a faint shuffling of feet. Not very many people come in here, especially
this late, but there’s plenty of people who like to take on the challenge.

Continuing on my wayward path, I concentrate on where I’m going, soon forgetting about
anything else going on around me. The trick is to focus on the floor and not your reflection.

Just as I almost face plant a mirror, I hear a dark chuckle. My head snaps up, the tone of the
laugh sounding evil. A spark of adrenaline ignites, pumping the chemical into my heart and
kicking up the speed further.

Did an employee dressed as a monster sneak in here to mess with me? I wouldn’t hold it past
them. They’re known to follow people around and terrorize them.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turn to find my bearings. If there is a creepy monster in here
with me, I’d rather they not get close enough that I have to look at a thousand of their reflections.

Finding my way past the mirror that almost gave me a nose job, I start ahead again.

“Little mouse.” The whisper seems to travel from every direction.

My limbs lock, not sure if my imagination is playing tricks on me or if Zade is actually here.

Unfreezing, I force myself to keep moving, hoping I’m just imagining things.

“Where are you, little mouse?”

I gasp, the deep voice closer. Another sinister chuckle echoes, and Jesus Christ, this man is
capable of evil. No one sane sounds like that.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take three deep, calming breaths, trying to ease my racing heart.

He’s fucking with me. Trying to scare me. And it’s fucking working when I’m trapped in a maze of
mirrors, and he’s laughing like a goddamn lunatic.

He can’t just let me have my night, can he? For once, I didn’t think about him and my conflicting
feelings. And though Zade doesn’t quite scare me as much—except for maybe right now—the
feelings he brings out of me certainly do.

Maybe if I keep quiet, he won’t find me.

Restarting my path, I quicken my pace until I’m speed walking through the labyrinth of mirrors.

I’ve no idea how far I am, but I don’t even think I’ve made it halfway through.

It’s right then that I see the first image of Zade reflected back at me. Dressed in all black, with his
scarred face hidden deep in his hood. I gasp, whipping around just to find more of his reflection.

He’s not behind me, but he’s somewhere close.

“Stop it,” I bite out, fear constricting my chest.

He doesn’t answer, and of course, the fucker doesn’t listen. I’m caught in a whirlwind, my body
continuously moving in circles, desperate to pin exactly where he is.

“You all alone, baby girl?”

I swallow. “Obviously,” I whisper, still searching for where he is. It feels like I shouldn’t have said
that.

“No one here to save you?”

A shot of anxiety hits me in the chest.

“Why the hell would I need to be saved, Zade? You going to hurt me?”

It’s then he lifts his head, just enough for me to provide a view of his mouth. A wicked smirk is
stretched across those lips.

I try to remember that he won’t hurt me. He was just in my bed a week ago, sad and vulnerable.
By the time I opened my eyes in the morning, he was gone, and I haven’t heard from him since.

But my brain is having trouble connecting who he is now to who he was then.

Because now… he looks savage.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he corrects. I take a step back, a lump forming in my throat. His image
moves, his body walking in a different direction. Is he coming closer? I can’t tell. I take another
step back, the adrenaline in my system rising to dangerous levels.

He’s scaring me.

“Run,” he growls. My lungs constrict at the guttural command. “If I catch you, I fuck you.”

Eyes widening, I listen, my body catapulting into action.

I run.

In here, I’m completely vulnerable to him. I’m well and truly trapped in the spider’s web, and the
son of a bitch is poisonous.

His reflection follows me everywhere I go. There were a few times I was convinced I’d truly lost
him, seeing nothing but my own image. And then he’d step out from somewhere, crushing my
hopes.

After a few minutes, I’m out of breath. The adrenaline and fear are getting to me. My chest is
constricted too tight, my lungs reduced to strings and no longer capable of holding oxygen.

I’m lost and trapped with a very dangerous man who is going to absolutely devastate me. I don’t
think I’m running from him anymore, but rather from the person I’m going to be when he’s
finished with me.

I was ready to give myself over to him when he emerged from my balcony doors and came to me
with a heavy heart. The man put some type of spell on me, because when he was hurting, all I
wanted to do was make him feel better. Give myself over to him if that’s what would help.

But I know that I would’ve woken up the next day and hated myself. Because I would’ve slept
with a stalker, a murderer and a man who has forced himself on me on several occasions. I
would’ve slept with a man who doesn’t respect my boundaries, my personal space, or the
word no.

And I know without a shadow of a doubt that’s exactly what’s about to happen. How do I accept
that? How do I toss away the moral compass that’s been directing my entire life?

For a man that I should loathe, but… I don’t. I just don’t. He’s all those things, but he’s also one
of the most admirable men I’ve ever met. The devotion and passion he has for saving women
and children stolen away from their homes and lives, he’s doing something massive in the world
and making an impact in a substantial way. I can’t even begin to put into words the way he
makes me feel.

He’s such a fucking oxymoron. Contradicting in the most agonizing ways.

And despite his cracked moral compass, I feel safe with him. Even now, when fear is rewiring my
brain.

I stop running, panting heavily.

Hopeless.

That’s what running from Zade is. Fucking. Hopeless.

Chest pumping, I wait for him to find me. Obviously, I’m not going to be able to outrun him. My
only chance of escaping is to somehow incapacitate him, and then try to run.

A laugh bubbles up my throat.

He’s been training me to do just that, right? My shadow has been giving me the means to protect
myself.

Against him.

Hot breath tickles my ear, sending chills down my spine. I close my eyes, biting my lip until I taste
copper when I feel his body press into my back.

He keeps his hands to himself for now, but I know that won’t last much longer.

It’s no secret how much he loves to touch me without my permission.

“I’ll scream,” I threaten in a breathless whisper.

His breath fans across my neck as I feel him lean down. Soft lips brush the shell of my ear.
Shivers cascade down my spine like a raging waterfall.

“That’s such a good little girl,” he replies.

I whip around, ready to tell him off, but not a syllable escapes when my lips are captured
between his the second I come face-to-face with him.

Instinctively, I bite down on his bottom lip. A deep groan swirls through my mouth, spurring me to
bite harder. Explosions riot from our connected mouths, along with the flavor of mint and a hint of
smoke.

He tastes delicious, and I want him out of my mouth.

As if hearing my thoughts, his palm reaches up to wrap around the back of my head, his fingers
tangling in the depths of my hair and pulling me impossibly closer.

And then I do something really stupid.

I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, lost in the taste of him. The feel of his lips against mine.

Realizing what I’m doing, I release his lip, attempting to pull away from him. His mouth is a drug,
and just like the real thing, it causes me to make incredibly stupid decisions.

He doesn’t let me go and instead returns the sentiment. Sucking my lip into his mouth and
delivering his own sharp nip. I gasp from the pain, granting him access and allowing him to
invade my mouth.

My pussy responds in kind, throbbing from the feel of his tongue. Memories bombard me,
remembering what that tongue felt like sliding against my clit.

An involuntary moan escapes, and the second he tastes my body’s betrayal, his kiss turns fierce.

He completely consumes me, sucking and licking my lips and tongue in a way I’ve never
experienced. I’m helpless to stop him, just as I am helpless to fight it.

Another growl pings through my mouth, my only warning to his next move. He grabs my waist
and twirls me right up against a mirror, pinning me against the cool glass as his body molds into
mine.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he praises against my mouth before wrapping my swollen lips into
another bruising kiss.

Breathless, I force my head away, sucking in precious oxygen. He clamps my cheeks between
his large hand, growling against me.

“Give me those fucking lips,” he snarls, forcing his tongue back into my mouth.

My hands wedge between our bodies, traveling up his stomach bulging with muscles to his firm
chest. Roughly, I push him away, our lips separating with a loud smack.

“Wait, stop,” I pant, my mind foggy and discombobulated.

“What did I say?” he demands sharply. His mismatched eyes capture my gaze in a drug-inducing
hold. It’s hard to look away when I feel like I’m looking into the eyes of a predator.

He is a predator.

“What?” I breathe, still dizzy from the kiss.

“If I catch you, I fuck you,” he repeats slowly, gravel lining his throat.

My mouth opens, but the words are slow to release.

“You’re not fucking me,” I refuse, pushing against his chest harder.

His lips whisper across my cheek, trailing along my jawline before dropping down to my neck.

“Because you’re afraid you’ll like it too much,” he concludes before delivering a sharp nip on my
neck. My back arches, goosebumps rising on my skin from the chills. “Because you know that
you’ll become as addicted as I am.”

“No,” I deny in a whisper. “Because I don’t want you to.”

He lifts his head, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“So, you’re going to be my bad girl tonight? Lie to my face and act like your pussy isn’t aching to
be filled up with my cock.”

I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“Not everything has to come down to physical attraction,” I respond finally. “Maybe my body
wants you, but up here”—I tap my temple— “doesn’t.”

He nods his head slowly, his eyes flitting across my face in contemplation. He takes a step back,
leaving me bereft and cold.

It feels like a black shroud encasing the sun on a hot summer day—just a sudden, bone-chilling
cold.

He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the mirror. He spins me until I’m looking at the
countless reflections that surround us, echoing our image from every angle.

I watch him through the mirror. He presses his body back into mine, his warmth soaking into my
pores once more. My eyes settle on one mirror, our eyes clashing through the glass.

Slowly, he bends down until his mouth is right at my ear, his eyes never straying from mine.

“You want to know why I love the house of mirrors?” he murmurs in my ear, eliciting sparks
throughout my nerve endings. His voice is full of dark promises and dangerous beginnings.

I swallow thickly. “Why?” I whisper.

“Look around you,” he commands softly. Hesitantly, I pull my eyes away from his, dragging my
gaze across the dozens of mirrors.

“What you’re seeing now is what I see every day. No matter how far I run, how hard I try to
escape you—you’re everywhere I go. You’re everything I see. Loving you is like being trapped in
a house of mirrors, little mouse. And I’ve never felt so at home while being so lost inside you.”

My breath hitches, my eyes snapping back to his.

My heart tripped and fell down a flight of stairs the second the word ‘love’ came out of his mouth.
A word he tossed out so casually, I’m not sure if it’s a confession or not.

“I don’t think you know what love is,” I whisper.

He grunts with amusement. “I don’t think anyone does, baby. Love is an enigma, and it’s
redefined every time someone says it.”

I frown. All I can feel is disappointment. Not because of what he said, but because of how fucking
easy it was for him to accomplish what he set out to do.

Just like he wants, a reckless, impulsive feeling consumes me. All I ache to do is let him have
me. So many nights, where he’d sneak into my bed and take advantage of my weakness—
whether the weakness was in my body or brain—he used that against me time and time again.
But he never took it all the way, and every morsel inside my being has been waiting for this
moment. Anticipating it.

I’m dying to deny him, yet I have to fight my body from turning and pulling him into me.

Maybe just this once…

I bite my lip, rolling the bruised and abused lip between my teeth.

He watches me closely, studying every movement like he’s trying to interpret a dead language
hidden in the lines of my body.

“Are you only saying that because you think it’ll work?” I ask, my voice husky and uneven.

His mouth is still angled towards my ear, with his eyes locked onto mine. Slowly, he shakes his
head, his face severe and gaze intense.

“You’re telling the truth?” I push, my voice hitching with the desperation for him to just lie and tell
me no.

“Yes, Adeline,” he whispers.

I close my eyes, resignation seeping from my pores. Sensing the change, his hand travels
across my flat stomach. I tense beneath his touch, goosebumps rising on my skin.

His long fingers latch onto the zipper of my hoodie, slowly pulling it down, parting the material at
a painful pace. The sound of the metal teeth separating disrupts the sound of my erratic
breathing.

“Don’t torture me,” I bite out, anger flashing from his deliberately slow pace.

A wicked smile flashes, and even the mirror can’t lessen the cruelty.

“Poor little mouse,” he taunts. “You’re sadly mistaken if you thought I was going to make this
anything but painful.”

Chapter 30

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