Jonah

“Show me who you are,” I demand, pointing my gun directly at his covered forehead. “Remove the mask. Take it all off.”

A low, husky laugh escapes his lips. “Even my uniform?”

My body shudders as a wave of heat causes my stomach to churn.

“Do you want to die?” I ask, clicking the gun.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he lowers himself onto his knees with his hands in the air, arms bent at the elbows.

“Not necessarily, but I will have you know, I do look good naked, too.” he tells me, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

My voice shakes lightly as I threaten, “Take the fucking mask off, or I will shoot you.”

His shoulders sag as an audible sigh sounds from him. Moving his hands to beneath his chin, he unclasps the helmet.

He takes it off, tossing it to his side without care. After that, he slides his eye protection up and off of his head, revealing a pair of cold, blue-gray eyes.

Blinking, he flutters his blond lashes, and I repress the urge to shiver again.

They are unsettling, to say the least.

I swallow thickly, thankful for the head gear still hiding my face.

The sound of them hitting the floor echoes in the room, dragging me out of my panicked thoughts.

“Are you enjoying this?” he questions.

I furrow my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

Without saying anything further, he pulls the black balaclava down, leaving the fabric bunching together around his neck.

He shakes his head and runs a hand through his sweaty, messy, dark-blond hair. It remains dishelved even after his attempt to tame it.

Thin but full, straight eyebrows, highly defined cheekbones, and fair skin with pink undertones. I cannot deny that he is handsome.

There are a few faint freckles scattered along his nose. Shaped in a cupids bow are his lips. Dull pink but reddened where he bites them.

He has prominent eyebags, which add to the uneasy feeling his dark demanor brings to me.

Standing up, he decides to close the gap between us. The end of the gun presses into his chest.

“I asked if you were enjoying this.” he repeats himself from a minute earlier. “And you didn’t give me an answer.”

The corner of his lips tick upwards into a small grin, and I don’t realize he managed to retrieve a handgun from the strap-on on the side of his uniform.

Tilting my head upwards with the chilling metal, he makes me look him directly in the eyes.

Fully smirking now, he replaces the gun with his hand as he is now angling it at my head.

My heart races in my chest, anxiety beginning to cloud my thoughts.

“I’ve showed you me,” he states, staring down at me with an uncomfortable amount of intensity and obvious amusement. “Which means it is your turn. I want to see you again, Jonah.”

My body goes limp.

How does he know my name?

And what does he mean by ‘again?’

Another hollow laugh comes from his mouth.

“Do you want to die?”