Haunting-Adeline

from my angle, but I don’t need to in order to know that he’s squeezing
himself.
I’m going to enjoy killing him.
“P-please take me home,” Sarah cries, the dam burs ng as tears spill
over her lashes and down her cherub cheeks.
I wipe the tears from her cheeks, silently praising her for flinching away
from my touch, even though it makes me feel like my insides are in a
dumpster fire.
“Don’t cry, swee e,” I coo aloud. She cries harder, and my heart blisters
from the fury.
Dan licks his lips with unrestrained hunger, reaching over to do what—I
don’t know. My hand that’s wrapped around her neck whips out, grabbing
his hand with a firmness that has him instantly freezing.
“I don’t share,” I growl, le ng some of the pent-up anger loose. Dan
jerks his hand away, raising them in the air in surrender.
“Possessive,” he chuckles, glancing at the guests. Embarrassment flashes
in his eyes, but it’s gone before it can truly se le. That just might come
back to bite me in the ass—Dan also isn’t the type of man that takes well
to public humilia on.
Not that I’m truly concerned with the backlash. He’ll be dead soon
anyways.
While Dan’s eyes cast over the dinner table, I slyly press the bu on on
my watch, keeping my hands under the table. By the me his eyes are
dri ing back to me, my hands return to their previous posi on.
“Please, proceed… brother,” he tacks on at the end, the word said with
an inflec on of challenge.
I flash a feral grin, not holding back in the slightest. His eyes heat at the
sight, likely assuming that he’s about to get a show of a life me.
Before either of us can move, a loud banging on the front door startles
us both. A muffled, indiscernible shout follows. Dan’s eyes look towards
the front of the house, brow furrowing in confusion.
“Who the hell would dare…?” he mu ers under his breath, aghast that
someone is nearly breaking down his front door.
Panicked, hushed whispers rise from the group, the guests turning to
each other with fearful gazes.