Page 52 of Fool Me Twice

It struck Hart viscerally in that moment.

Cane always seemed indestructible, but the cracks were starting to show. His anger and mood swings had turned manic and unpredictable as the curse ravaged through his life. Would he end up like this woman? Interpersonal curses were often dismissed. How could they be as dangerous as a violent curse? No one had died from an interpersonal curse, after all.

Which wasn’t strictly true. The statistics for suicide after an interpersonal curse was lifted was higher than any other curse type.

People’s lives got destroyed. Their relationships were left in ruins. Often they couldn’t deal with the fallout.

Imagining that happening to Cane…

He clicked out of the case. The woman’s curse had been visible at the first diagnostic procedure they’d conducted. Her curse had been there, centered on her. It wasn’t the same.

He opened the next file.

Skimmed through. Curse obvious at first diagnostic procedure.

He closed it.

Fix was still next to him, smelling of pine and smoke. Still completely wrong, but closer to what he wanted than nothing.

His phone pinged.

Cane: You’ve been gone a while, sweetheart.

Hart’s traitorous heart raced as he stared blankly at the screen for a moment.

The hungry animal in Hart’s chest slavered and foamed at the mouth, catching a whiff of its favorite meal and begging to be sated after days of starvation.

Finally.

Hart forced it back into the cage he kept it locked in and typed a quick response with shaky fingers.

Hart: I’m working.

It only took a second for Cane to take his shot.

Cane: I want you back here.

The words struck Hart like a bullet, just as Cane intended. He lost all the air in his lungs and his vision went fuzzy around the edges. Damn him. The words replayed in his head, over and over. Whispers from a snake’s tongue. Poison dripping straight into his ear and spreading through his veins to infect every part of him.

He refused to whimper and squirm like his body was begging him to.

Hart: I need to be here now.

He waited for Cane to demand, to force him to come back…and waited.

The texts stopped cold.

Hart wanted to scream.

How dare he…? How could he…? Why wouldn’t he…?

“Hart?”

Hart realized he was white-knuckling his phone and quickly dropped it like it was scalding. Fix stared at the dark screen before glancing back up at him.

“Bad news?”

Hart shook his head, trying not to pant from how hard he needed to draw breath. “It’s nothing.”

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