Page 7 of Haunt the Mall
I slumped against the counter. So much for my fantasy. “Oh, this is a sales pitch.”
“You wanted to see the movie—and you like all sorts of things.” Amusement tinged his voice. “Why not give yourself some flexibility? You can catch the last half of Widow and the first half of…Mummy’s House, maybe?”
I straightened my spine. Was he playing with me? “I wouldn’t pick a kids’ movie.” I scanned the balcony for any trace of a manager-looking guy watching me. All I saw was the spider beckoning. “Listen, I’m on my lunch break, and I just want to finish The Widow before everyone spoils everything. Your company will still get two full-priced tickets from me. Three, if you include what I spent on my coworker who got scared and had to leave.”
“Mm, I’m sorry.”
I didn’t have time to puzzle out if he was sweet or condescending. “So, are you going to let me into the movie?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “I’ll unlock that showing.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“My pleasure, Miss Silver. Enjoy the movie.”
A thrill worked its way to the base of my spine. He’d managed the situation—but could this mystery man handle me?
4
Strangers in the Dark
I peeked around the corner of the entrance to the raised aisles in my movie showing. A few people shot me annoyed looks as if I was creeping on them instead of trying to locate my seat. I retreated to the entry hall to check my phone and shield their precious eyes from a distracting beacon. Maybe that lurker had the right idea watching from the hall. I could keep an eye on the time and watch the movie without disturbing anybody. Sitting down on my break would be nice though. Shifting my weight, I scanned for easily accessible aisle seats so I wouldn’t have to walk in front of anybody.
The door to the theater creaked open. Soft, measured footfall padded to a stop behind me. A young man’s voice rumbled in the dark. “Do you need help finding your seat, Miss Silver?”
“Oh, I’m…” Wait a minute, was he the sexy manager? I twisted around to check. The light from my phone was barely enough to reach his bowed lips. Shadows caressed the rest of his Victorian-era, diamond-shaped face. He had sharp cheekbones, a refined nose, and narrow eyes guarded by thick, spidery lashes. His fingers combed through scythe-like bangs, his pale skin bright against the rolled-up sleeves of his black theater uniform. If this was the same guy I saw when exiting Mummy’s House, he also had a stellar backside.
My heart thumped hard, and it wasn't because of the ominous music pouring through the speakers.
“Hi,” I whispered.
His gaze roamed across my arms and chest. “No popcorn? I thought this was your lunch break.”
“Yeah. I…” What was I going to say? Were we even supposed to be talking right now? I glanced at the film. A wide-eyed woman crawled through a cobweb-covered attic, her harried panting echoing my own internal panic. Was the manager checking on me? And if so, was it to make sure I didn’t sneak into any other movies or to personally assure my viewing pleasure?
“I wanted to come as soon as possible,” I finally managed to respond.
“I see.” He hummed, a light, airy noise that vibrated in my pulse.
Oh, fuck. I just made a double entendre, didn’t I?
The manager’s fingertips ghosted across my back. “This way, please.”
My skin rippled with goosebumps. I wanted him to fuck me against the wall, the loud crowd and dark movie masking our depravity. But that’d be reckless.
Besides, I wasn’t going to miss The Widow ending for anybody. I swallowed hard and marched on. He guided me into a free aisle seat.
“Thanks,” I whispered, crossing my legs and squeezing them together. He wouldn’t join me, right? He was working.
The ghost of a smirk graced his lips. He bowed as if he was my own personal butler, then lurked just long enough for my lungs to ache from holding my breath. People noticed him standing there. Their gazes swept over us like wild, hungry flashlights in the dark. Frustration bubbled alongside my curiosity. He blinked softly—or was it slowly? A measured gesture. Then, he slunk back into the shadows from whence he came.
I took a shaky breath and wriggled in my seat, flipping my cross between my fingers. What the hell was that? My heart raced with excitement.
The manager was clearly on customer service duty, making sure I didn’t disturb anybody. Although he seemed to have no problem causing chaos on his own terms. His crack about popcorn was probably a targeted upsell. I pressed my cold fingers to my hot cheeks, willing myself to calm down. I needed to find a release so I stopped fantasizing about strangers. Too bad that pierced guy from the store didn’t amount to anything.
I ran my teeth over my lower lip and tried to focus on the movie.
The final girl, the one I expected to live through this ordeal, pounded on the attic window. She wanted freedom. Something to break. To ignite the fire in her veins.