Chapter Eight
Shay
By midday, my nerves had finally stopped rattling like loose screws inside my chest. Breakfast had helped.
Pearl’s lopsided French toast had helped even more.
But what helped the most was simply being near Prime.
Close enough to feel him, and close enough that I didn’t have to explain why my hands still trembled every so often.
Fear was weird.
It didn’t hit all at once.
It leaked through the cracks whenever you thought you were fine.
But being glued to Prime’s side made those cracks feel smaller.
That was another weird thing.
I hadn’t had the need to be with anyone in so long. It had been about seven months since I had left my asshole ex, but I had stopped wanting him long before I had left him. I had stayed for so long because it felt like I didn’t deserve any more than what I was getting.
Once I had left, I had figured out how wrong I was. I had settled into being alone pretty easily. Even though I had been homeless, living in my car, it had been one hundred times better than any relationship I had been in.
Prime kept me with him all day, with Lost trailing ten feet behind us like a silent ghost with attentive eyes. I didn’t need to look back to know Lost saw everything. Heard everything. Calculated everything. His presence was steady and comforting.
Prime walked with his hands in his pockets, like we were just out for a stroll, but I knew better. His shoulders were tight. His eyes scanned constantly. His jaw twitched every time the wind rustled the trees wrong.
We were headed down the path toward the haunted house. I’d seen glimpses of it from the clubhouse, but not up close. Honestly? I’d been too scared to ask.
Prime stopped halfway down the path and looked at me. “You ready to see it?”
“Yes,” I said too quickly. Then, because I was a little scared of the place, “Daylight makes things less creepy.”
That earned me a tiny grin. “You keep telling yourself that.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “What, you’re hoping I get scared so you can play hero?”
His grin widened. “I don’t need a reason to play hero. Comes naturally.”
I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t lying. Everything about him screamed protector. Solid. Capable. Dangerous when needed, and right now, I needed all three.
We walked forward.
And then the trees parted.
And I stopped breathing.
“Oh… wow.”
The haunted house wasn’t a cheesy tourist trap like I’d imagined.
It stood three stories tall, looming and shadowed, with angled rooflines and boarded windows that looked centuries old.
The paint was layered with so many details it felt alive.
Dark streaks that mimicked rot, cracks etched into the walls, and shadowed corners where monsters could easily hide.
This wasn’t a set.
This wasn’t pretend.
This was art.
Prime watched my face instead of the house. “Pretty wild, right?”
“Wild?” I whispered. “This is… incredible. It looks like it was dragged out of a nightmare.”
“Pearl says the same thing,” he replied. “But she means it as a compliment to herself.”
I stepped forward slowly, drawn in by the detail. “She did all this?”
“Pearl, Bernice, and her painting crew,” Prime said softly. “Hundreds of hours.”
“It’s amazing,” I murmured.
“It is,” Prime said, and there was a break in his voice he didn’t bother to hide. It was a haunted house, but it was the way the Kings made their living. Without this, they didn’t have anything.
I stepped forward hesitantly. “Can I… touch it? Go in?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s meant to be touched and explored.”
We climbed the front steps, and my fingers brushed the wood. It felt smooth in some places, rough in others, textured to look like age and neglect. I could almost picture Pearl painting it.
“I can’t believe how talented Pearl is,” I said quietly.
“Bernice, too,” Prime pointed out. “She and Pearl did all the murals and gory details.”
We walked through the front door, and the boards creaked beneath our combined weight. Even in daylight, the house gave off a hum of tension, like it knew its purpose was to be feared.
“Are you guys really reopening?” I asked and glanced at him.
His eyes hardened with determination. “We are. We have to.”
“Because of the town? The cops?”
“Because of everything,” he said. “This place is our lifeline. Our cover. Our income. Club won’t last long without money coming in.”
I nodded. I wasn’t a club girl or an old lady or whatever they called women in their world. But I understood survival. I understood doing what you had to.
“You’ll pull it off,” I said. “People will come.”
“They always do,” Prime replied. “Especially if they think they might get the shit scared out of them.”
I laughed, and God, it felt good to laugh.
We walked around the first floor, and I gasped again. Painted hands stretched up from beneath one of the windows, distorted and shadowed, like souls trapped inside the walls.
“Holy…” I stepped closer, eyes wide. “This looks like real hands are trying to claw their way out.”
“That was Pearl’s idea,” Prime said. “Bernice argued with her about it for two days. Pearl won.”
“It’s perfect,” I said.
“It’s creepy as hell,” Prime muttered.
“That’s the point.”
Prime made a small sound like he knew I was right but wasn’t admitting it.
We went up the stairs, and I didn’t know where to look. It was absolutely insane the things that Pearl was able to do with paint. A demented nursery, a dungeon room, and don’t even get me started on the realistic blood drips and spatter.
We made it back downstairs and then out the front door.
We circled around the back and followed a narrow dirt path that led toward the cabins. Lost kept pace far enough behind that he blended into the trees, but close enough that I could feel him the way you feel a security blanket draped over your shoulders.
It wasn’t suffocating.
It was safety.
The trees opened ahead of us, and sunlight hit the lake in a blinding silver wash.
I stopped again. “Oh…”
Prime stepped beside me. “Yeah. Gets you every time.”
The lake stretched out, serene and endless. The sunlight making tiny diamonds dance on the surface. The breeze carried the smell of pine and fresh water; cleaner and brighter than any lake I’d ever been near.
“It’s really pretty here,” I murmured. “Even with a giant haunted house behind us.”
Prime laughed quietly. “You get used to it.”
I turned to him. “You love it here.”
He didn’t pretend otherwise. “I do. Been with the club fifteen years. Never got sick of waking up on this shoreline.”
I could see it in his eyes. The belonging, the loyalty, the anchor this place gave him. For someone like Prime, who seemed carved from steady stone, it made sense.
“I can understand why,” I said. “It feels peaceful. Like the world forgets to be loud.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
I stepped closer to the water and felt the gravel shift under my shoes. Prime followed, standing just behind me. Not touching. Not crowding. But present. Solid. Like if the earth split open beneath me, he’d catch me before I fell.
Lost stood a few yards back and leaned against a tree in that quiet way of his. Watching. Guarding. Blending.
I hugged my arms loosely around my waist and let the wind lift strands of my hair. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel calm today. It’s almost like the past few days have been a dream. I’m almost afraid I’m going to wake up and be all alone again.”
“You don’t have to be alone,” Prime said. “Not anymore.”
My throat tightened. He didn’t say it softly. Or romantically. He said it like fact. Like law. Like a promise.
I stared out across the lake and let the words settle inside me. “You do that a lot,” I said after a moment.
“Do what?”
“Make impossible things sound easy.”
Prime stepped closer, just enough for his arm to brush mine. “Only because I know I can back it up.”
I looked at him, really looked.
His jaw was tight from lack of sleep. His brow furrowed from stress. His eyes were sharp from vigilance. He looked like someone who carried the weight of his entire club on his shoulders and would do it again tomorrow.
But to me?
He seemed softer.
Gentler.
Present.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For not making me feel like a burden.”
His brows pulled together. “You’re not a burden.”
“But—”
“No.” His voice deepened, firm but not harsh. “You’re not a job. You’re not an obligation. You’re someone worth protecting. Worth keeping safe. That’s the truth.”
Warmth spread through my chest so fast I didn’t know where to put it. I looked away before I accidentally melted into a puddle on the rocky ground.
“Can we stay here a little?” I asked. “Just… for a while?”
“Yeah,” he said. “For as long as you want.”
So we stayed.
The water lapped softly at the shore. Birds chirped lazily from the branches overhead. The breeze lifted my hair and brushed my cheeks. Each sound seemed to loosen something tight inside me. Something wound so hard it hurt.
Life had not been good to me the past few years, but right now, life seemed good.