79. Nash
NASH
My heart thundered in my chest, hard enough to drown out most other sounds. Still, I took careful steps, resting the mallet against my shoulder as I stalked through the Haunted Manor.
Wouldn’t want to make a noise and scare off my Sweet Lamb.
I was trying to stay open to the possibility, but I doubted that Tess was in my section. I just didn’t feel it during the draw.
But I wasn’t convinced she was in any of our sections for that matter. Maybe it was a hunch. Maybe it was some higher power whispering into my psyche. Or maybe it was just basic fucking probability.
I kept my eyes low as I moved through the manor, peering under dusty Victorian tables and trying to ignore the false ghosts shifting behind the vintage mirrors.
If I had to guess, Tess would be safe for the first six hours at least.
And after that?
My heart rate picked up speed. I took a deep breath, forcing it back down.
I’ll just have to find her first.
I might not be as obsessive as Cyrus or as dogged as Blade, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have a few sick, Tess-centric fantasies of my own. Just the thought was enough to send a jolt of electricity crackling through my chest.
Six hours would be plenty of time to introduce her to what I had in store. No more getting cut off like the last time I caught her, no more having Blade steal the win from under my nose.
I need her alone. I need to hear her scream my name.
I’d spent plenty of sleepless nights imagining it. It was far easier, more attainable, than the other fantasies that I had about her: that she might want me the way I wanted her. That she could see beyond our past and into a future together.
It’s not an option. Not as long as Cyrus feels the way she does.
The thought stung like a shard of glass in my stomach. I lost focus, bumping Trixie against one of the mirrors and cracking it.
Fuck. This is why I don’t think about this shit.
But what should have been a bad omen might just have brought me some luck. Across the room, I heard a scuffle behind the old, curved counter of the antique bar. Something startled by the sudden crack of glass.
Bingo.
Hefting the mallet back over my shoulder, I strode across the room with renewed vigor and hopped over the bar. “You’re mine now, Tess.”