Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

The chill in the air seeped through my oversized black
sweater, my exposed shoulder already feeling like I had an ice
cube sitting in that one spot, but my legs were nice and toasty
in the leather pants. Thank goodness I wore my Vans, since I
was sure I’d be stumbling and scurrying a lot tonight.
“Welcome to Coldfield,” a dark, deep voice suddenly said
right next to me and I jumped a little.
Shit. I chuckled and took a step away, hearing my friends’
laughter, as well.
“Nice blood,” Jade commented, and I guessed he must be
one of the actors sent to greet everyone in line. Blood, huh? I
imagined prop blood on his face and clothes. Maybe a
hacksaw in his hand with a really dull blade, if any, of course,
to keep it safe.
Something brushed my arm, and then I heard his voice
right next to me again. Did he move in closer when I moved
away?
“Did you girls sign the waiver?” he asked.
“Yes,” Isa answered, followed by a little giggle.
“Do you know the safe word?” he pressed.
“Yes,” she said again.
“GGood.” I could damn-near feel his breath on me, and I
almost forgot to breathe. “Don’t use it. I don’t like to stop my
fun.”
They laughed again, comfortable in their knowledge that
they were indeed safe, but all I could do was stand there, déjà
vu weighing me down like an anchor. The fear factor, the
taunting, his threatening promises… So much for getting away
from the house, everyone in it, and clearing my head tonight.
This guy was Damon. Or like the point-five version.
And then I felt it.
His breath was on my cheek as he spoke. “I’ll see you
inside,” he whispered.