Page 37 of Clubs

With a fire under my ass, I stomped closer to the house. At my tail, all but jogging to maintain my speed, Declan called, “We’re going in?”

“We don’t have to,” I said, almost at the walkway now. “But I am.”

“Well, you’re not going in there alone.” His tone told me how little he appreciated my approach here. “What’s the game plan? We gonna knock?”

“Nope.” Almost at the porch now, I veered to the right. There was a window on the porch, but plywood covered its broken frame. I needed a look inside. Winding the bend to the north side of the house, I said, “I’m gonna need a boost.”

“A boost for what?” Declan asked.

He’d see.

Finally at the window, I rolled onto the tips of my toes to peek inside. But, as I’d expected, I was a hair too short.

Turning to Declan, I nodded toward the window. “I need that boost.”

He furrowed his brows for half a second. Then the obvious realization set in. Letting out a deep breath, a half-smile teased the corners of his lips. “You’re gonna break in.”

“No breaking.”

“But you need to see inside to be able to teleport inside,” he said. “Otherwise you’ll end up inside a wall or some shit.”

“Yep.”

“You gonna open the door for me?”

“Obviously.”

He arched a brow. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now chop-chop.” Clapping my hands, I gestured to the window again. “Give me that boost.”

“What’s your plan here, Brooke? What’re we doing?” he asked. “Gonna sit on the couch ‘til the dude gets here?”

“Something like that.” I propped my hands on my hips. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“When you tell me what you’re doing.”

Grunting, I waved a dismissive hand at him and spun around. A few cinder blocks were stacked at the corner. Looked like my way in. Starting that direction, I said, “If you’re not strong enough to lift me up, you could just say so.”

He snorted. “You don’t listen to a word that comes out of my mouth.”

“Well.” Squatting to grab the cinder block, grunting, I struggled out, “If you were strong enough, you’d just—”

And before I knew it, his hands were on either side of my ribs. They didn’t even slide to my armpits as he hoisted me up. Just lifted my nearly three-hundred-pound body clear over his head so I sat on his shoulders, legs outstretched around his neck. There was no stopping the smile that taunted the edges of my lips as he walked back to the window, holding me high enough to see the interior.

His voice was level, not strained in the slightest by my weight. “Keep running that mouth of yours, and I’m gonna shut you up with my dick down your throat.”

Fighting that half-smile, I shielded my eyes from the sun and squinted through the glass. “That a threat? Or a promise?”

It was as shitty in there as it was out here. Broken furniture, all dirty and gray. Piles of papers and trash everywhere..

Declan kissed the inside of my knee. “Promise.”

I patted his head. “‘Atta boy.”

He started to say something, probably to call me a bitch, but I’d already teleported inside.

Messy didn’t even begin to cover it. The place was littered with needles and bongs and pipes. Maybe the walls were white once, but such a thick layer of soot covered them, I couldn’t tell if it was yellow or brown. No pictures hung on them, but a handful of band posters and tapestries did. Burn holes decorated the sofa, the old corduroy recliner, even the throw rug. There may have been a design on it once, but I couldn’t make it out now.

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