Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Harriet scrolls on her phone after I tell her I never looked up The Labyrinth Library on the internet. I just plugged it into Maps with an abundance of trust. I didn’t think Eliot would go so far as to prank me. Not when he wants me to live in New York.
“Okay, I found it on Yelp.” Harriet squints as she reads. “Four point seven stars. Oh…”
“Oh? Oh, what?” I try to read over her head. “Did he send us to a porn shop or something?”
“Better. It’s an escape room.”
What the fuck.
“Eliot,” I groan out from my chest.
“Eliot?” She pushes her frizzing bangs out of her hostile eyes. “What’d he trick you on purpose?”
“Probably, yeah.”
Her gaze darkens. “I was joking.”
“He’s a master of chaos. Will enact elaborate plots to repair broken friendships in the family.” I grimace at the brownstone. “The amount of times he’s tried to stick me and Xander together is obnoxious and impressive. But it’s never worked. It will never work.” I see pretty quickly that Donnelly isn’t among the bodyguards on the concrete steps, so Xander can’t be here.
It’s not about the Hales.
This is about my immediate family. About my brothers and me. I comb a hand through my hair, my hat tucked in my back pocket. Agitation amasses. “No, you know what, I’d have preferred shopping for dildos and anal plugs over this.”
She slides me a wide-eyed look. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Having to do an escape room with my brothers sounds nightmare-fueled.”
She tosses her phone in her black-studded messenger bag. Chains are strung across the zippered pockets. We’d taken a pit stop at her apartment where she left her backpack, thinking we were going to a club. Now she’s telling me, “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Pretty sure I saw a sex shop two blocks away.”
I almost laugh but I can’t tell if she’s joking, not even as her stormy ocean blues meet mine. I can’t really tell what she wants to do. I’d honestly go anywhere with Harriet. It’s her company I’m seeking above everything else, and I wonder if she’d rather bail now that plans have changed.
Meeting my brothers all at once isn’t a miniscule thing either. They’re a powerful force, and it’d be nerve-wracking for anyone to walk into a Cat 5 hurricane. Even a girl who has weapons for eyes.
Cars fly past us. City lights flicker in the misty night, but I’m only staring at her.
“Fisher,” I say in a calmer breath.
“Friend.” Her lips inch up in one of those pinched smiles.
“What are your thoughts on escape rooms?” I ask her.
She hugs her leather jacket to her frame as a gust of wind comes through. “Never been to one.” Her eyes linger on the door. “I’ve seen videos though, and they look like giant logic puzzles. Could be fun, I guess.”
“You choose,” I say. “Sex shop, escape room, or an actual club we find on Yelp.”
“And if I choose a sex shop?” she says like I’m nuts. But every time I give Harriet more of my trust, I’m stepping on a high wire. It’s an adrenaline rush. A euphoric hit.
“Then we go pick out some fun toys.” I plaster on a smile that she immediately scowls at.
Her brows almost touch together as she thinks harder. “You know what, no. I’m not going to be the reason you bail on your brothers. One hates me already. I don’t need all four to be on the Anti-Harriet train. You choose.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but she is right. My brothers might blame her if I dip out on them this time, and then they might not include her in any other invites. That sounds shittier than evading this whole trap.
“Escape room it is.”
15
BEN COBALT
We enter the dusty, dimly lit brownstone. The heavy door thunks as I shut it behind us. Harriet sneezes into her elbow.
“Bless you,” I say.
“Thank—” She sneezes again. I keep a protective hand on her shoulder, unsure of what we’re actively walking into. Other than a musty, dingy-looking library.
Weathered texts line floor-to-ceiling, dark oak bookshelves. Globes and old artifacts pile on towering stacks of hardbacks. If someone told me we entered a movie set for an 1800s antique bookshop, I’d believe them.
I touch the top of her head, rounding her body. “Stay behind me, yeah?”
She doesn’t protest. “Scared I might sneeze up a dust storm?”
“More like I’m afraid bats will come flying at us.”
“Bats?” Her light brown brows vault into her uneven bangs. “I do not want to have to take the rabies vaccine. I don’t care if they’re not as painful as they used to be, it’s a series of shots, Ben.”
I slip her a smile. “You’re scared of needles?” It’d be ironic since she’s pre-med, but it’s not that outlandish to me. So many times, I feel like I’m too many conflicting things at once.