Page 141 of End Game

The crackle of leaves grew closer, and Kayla worked to modulate her breathing. She pictured herself prepping for a meeting filled with powerful, dismissive men. Used her breathing technique to calm herself before settling into her “annihilate them” mindset.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Through a space in the leaves, she glimpsed a pair of legs pausing right outside of her location.

Something plopped down on her head and immediately began to burrow into her hair. Revulsion skittered down her spine. Her hand shook with the urge to remove the creature. Another part of her squirmed at the thought of touching the thing.

Would it be encased in a hard shell like a beetle? Squiggly like a grub? Or leggy like a spider? Would its little feet grasp her finger? Bite it? Or scurry away?

Every centimeter the insect moved felt like a thousand black widow spiders crawling across her flesh. Her every nerve ending vibrated with the compulsion to do something as the creature approached the base of her skull.

She braced herself for the first feel of it slithering onto the back of her bare neck.

At some point, she’d squeezed her eyes shut. She opened them and peered through the leaves. The guard’s legs were no longer in view.

Was he standing just out of view? Or had he moved on? She didn’t know what was worse—seeing his legs or not seeing them.

The creature made its move and now used her neck like a bridge. Every muscle in her upper body turned rock hard, as if that would protect her from the sensation of tiny feet trotting along her exposed flesh.

One moment, she huddled in darkness, warring with every instinct she possessed. The next, a large boot kicked the branches sheltering her away. Moonlight spilled into her hiding space. A familiar face filled her vision.

“Hello, Hellcat,” Ash said, his words warm and gentle.

The relief she heard in his voice pierced the dam holding back her emotions and tears pooled in her eyes. Then the writhing creature used her spine like a ski run.

She bolted from her hiding place, wriggling her shoulders and tenting her pajama top. “Get it off me! Get it off!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper.

When she noticed his bewildered stare, Kayla ripped the top over her head and turned her back toward him. “Get it off! Please.” She shook the garment hard.

Ash lifted her soot-covered hair and peered beneath. When he found nothing, he searched through the mass of tangles.

“Whatever it was, it’s gone,” he said.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

She checked the pajama top thoroughly before putting it back on, then searched the area near her ravaged feet.

Nothing.

Kayla suppressed a shiver, still able to feel the insect’s phantom dance down her neck.

Her eyes locked on Ash. Took in his filthy clothes, blood-coated shirt, sweat-slicked skin. How he was still standing, she didn’t know, but he was here. With her. Tears blurred his image. “You made it back.”

“I had a promise to keep.”

He tilted a little to the left, and she grasped his forearm to steady him. Kayla didn’t bother asking him to sit, she knew the stubborn man would decline.

Cradling his whiskered cheek with her other hand, she said, “As do I.”

Ash frowned, clearly trying to recall her promise.

Blinking away the moisture, she produced a wobbly smile. Ignored the ticking clock screaming in her mind. “I love you, Asher Cameron Blackwell.” She stepped closer, needing the connection of his body against her. “I promised myself that if I got away from Elsie, I would tell you how I feel. No more games. No more waiting for you to love me back.”

“You never had to wait for me to love you. I fell hard the moment I saw you assembling care packages for the seniors’ home.”

“But—”

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