Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
I hang against the wall, pretending to look at the books and photographs on the shelves, glancing at Harrison out of the corner of my eye. Jacob’s mom has an interesting collection of novels. I wonder if her son has noticed the smutty books she likes to read and keeps on display. I sip my drink slowly. It’s a prop now, giving me something to do, so that I look less conspicuous. The next time I glance at Harrison, the girls are getting up and walking away, chatting. They head towards the stairs, probably looking for the bathroom. Harrison glances around for someone familiar, although how he’d recognize who is under the latex masks most people are in, I’ve no idea. I’m just about to move in his direction when I feel a hand on my waist and a gust of breath against my ear. “Nice costume,” a deep voice murmurs. “Looking for some company?”
I don’t recognize the man behind me from his tone. His hand is so big his fingers almost reach my navel, and he’s tall, stooping down to talk to me. I was hoping my costume was going to attract attention, but not from strangers.
I turn and catch sight of Freddie Krueger’s rubbery representation standing behind me. Seduction with the mask of a killer somehow doesn’t come across very well.
“It’s a costume party,” I say dismissively, looking back at Harrison. He’s still there, looking at his phone, his Pinhead mask illuminated by the screen. He looks strange and otherworldly, and I just want to shrug off the pest behind me and get over there before another one of these bimbos gets there first.
“And you carry it off so well,” the stranger says, his other hand moving to stroke my neck.
“Hey,” I spin around, definitely not up for the kind of attention he seems to want to give. Freddie raises his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t doing anything,” he says and takes a step back before I have a chance to reply. I see movement out of the corner of my eye and find Harrison walking towards me. “Everything okay?” he asks and for a moment I panic, thinking he’s recognized me, but then I realize that this is typical Harrison behavior. He has a powerful sense of right and wrong. And, despite being a terrible flirt, he’s always very respectful.
I take the opportunity to move closer to him as if I’m seeking protection. I feel bad for Freddie because he was just flirting, and my actions are making him look like a sexual predator. He doesn’t seem concerned, though, walking away and disappearing into the crowd by the doors to the deck.
“Thanks,” I whisper, and I see Harrison’s eyes, behind his mask, flick to mine.
I wait for a sign that he recognizes me, but I don’t see one. What I do see is the narrowing of his eyes as he smiles at me beneath his terrifying mask.
“You know that you’re asking for trouble coming to a party full of horny men wearing an outfit like that?”
I look down at my costume as though I’m surprised by what he’s saying, but inside I’m dancing. He noticed.
“It’s just a costume,” I say, keeping my voice low.
“That’s not a costume,” he says huskily. “It’s a work of art.”
I grin at him and do an exaggerated curtsy. “Glad it worked out so well.”
“It really did.” He shakes his head. “You gonna give me a twirl so I can see it in all its glory?”
“If you want.” I pivot on my ridiculous heels, concentrating so I don’t fall and make a fool of myself.
“Damn,” he mutters, and when I turn back to face him, he has a hand over his heart. “If I wasn’t so young and fit, you might have just given me a heart attack.”
“Shut up,” I say, tossing the hair of my wig over my shoulder. The black strands tickle my bare back.
“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m Harrison, by the way.” He holds his hand out for me to shake and I want to laugh at how different he is to me when he thinks I’m not his stepsister, just a hot piece of ass ripe for the picking.
“Mandy,” I say. It’s the first name that comes into my head.
“Short for Amanda?”
“Just Mandy.”
“It’s cute. Reminds me of the show…Mork and Mandy.”
“That was Mindy!” I splutter with laughter, and he puts his hands on his hips.
“Don’t you know that guys hate being laughed at?” he says in a mock-serious voice. I know all his tones, having lived with him for so long. For the first time since I came up with this ridiculous plan, I feel predatory. If I ever get him upstairs, I know he’ll enjoy himself, and if I can keep in character, he’ll never know it was me, but I’ll know. I’ll remember that I used my knowledge of him as my stepbrother to seduce him, and rather than it making me feel powerful, suddenly I feel manipulative.