Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
“Welp, that’s that,” my brother summarized.
“Let’s get him settled in,” I instructed, not wanting to linger longer than necessary.
Cade grabbed Dennis under the arms, and Rook took his legs. Together, they hoisted him up and placed him back into his gaming chair like he’d never left it. We put his controller in his lap. Xander slipped his headset back over his ears.
Cade turned toward the closet, and his foot crunched down hard. He looked down and swore. I followed his gaze and started to laugh. A stiff pair of boxers was partially lodged under the end of the bed.
“Serial killer starter pack, that’s what this room is,” he stated, moving forward. He reached into the closet and retrieved the crow’s head. The black feathers were a mess, the beak cracked slightly, but still intact. It had seen better days, for sure.
Cade walked back to Dennis and placed it over his bloodied face. “Now he’s part of the legacy.”
Xander’s eyes swept the room, then the walls. He hopped up onto the bed and carved HUNTED in an empty space with his blade, deep grooves slicing through the drywall. He hopped down as we were finishing up.
The final scene looked perfect and wrong, his room more organized with trash and filth than when we’d arrived.
We filed out the way we came, one by one.
The TV still played in the living room, the same movie with subtitles. Dennis’s father was still slumped in the recliner. He’d wake up in another hour. We left the house, locking it up behind us. The Lincoln sat parked right where we left it.
Xander climbed into the driver’s seat without a word. Rook slid into the passenger side, and I dropped into the back. Cade followed, and the car settled under our weight. We removed all of our gear and returned it to the duffel bag so it could be burned. None of us spoke as the miles ticked by, each decompressing in our own way. We returned to the convenience store where the light overhead buzzed like a dying fly.
Xander pulled up beside our PT Cruiser. “Still the same move?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed, climbing out. “We’ll meet you at Vincent’s, then head to Ellie’s.”
“Alright, see you in a few then.” He pulled away.
We returned to our ride. Cade leaned back in the seat with a covered yawn. “That was nice, but I kinda wish he would’ve at least swung once.”
I cracked a faint smile as my phone powered on, the screen bleeding light across my face. “I was thinking we should’ve bent him over and used that lava lamp.”
Cade slid me a look, one brow lifted. “Now I’ve got regrets.” He shifted into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, one hand gripping the wheel.
I checked the time. It was still too long before I’d see her again. Even now, her image burned behind my eye. God, I missed her. I missed her in the way you miss air when you're drowning.
I had accounted for everything leading up to this weekend, except Dennis. He’d been an interruption I couldn’t ignore.
Now that he was gone, we had a schedule to get back to, faces to see, and ink to be gotten before I could get back to my girl. But first things first, it was time to ditch this fucking car.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
RYDER
I did something I hadn’t done in years. I scaled the trellis outside Sassy’s window. The wrought iron felt colder than I remembered, twisted into ornate patterns like something out of a fairy tale. My palms burned as I gripped the railing and hauled myself up, jostling the wrap on my hand. Once I made it onto the balcony, I crouched down to open the window. I knew how to find the latch. I had done this so many times in the past that I could have repeated it with my eyes closed. A quiet click later, and the window opened enough for me to slip through.
Moonlight spilled in around me as I eased the curtain aside, stepping down onto the window bench. My shoes came off silently, and I peeled my hoodie over my head, careful not to aggravate the bandage tight around my hand. It throbbed anyway. She was still asleep, tangled in her comforter, one arm curled around a pillow like she’d been reaching for something in her dreams. Or someone. I crossed the room and stood at the edge of her bed, watching her.
My gaze drifted to the bulletin board hanging on the wall, filled with snapshots, only she would arrange like that. Photos of us. Of our friends. Of her entire world, and mine too. Because she was always the center of it. There we were as kids, grinning like we didn’t know any better. Me in a helmet too big for my head, her beside me in a makeshift cheer uniform, pom-poms she’d cut from notebook paper. She’d insisted on matching me and said if I had a jersey, she needed one too. She was loud back then. Bright. Always in my corner. My one-person fan club. My whole damn world.