Page 17 of Finders Reapers

My poor dad. All alone.

Then another wave of emotion.

My fucking dad had done this to me in the first place! He hadsold my soul.

Rome opened his mouth to say something, but Ollie held out a hand. “Give her a moment.” He warned.

“Why does it hurt so much?” I wailed.

Ollie gave me a look filled with pity. “Oh, honey. Living is pain.”

Gasping, I lay on my side and rocked on the floor with my arms wrapped around my legs. My breath wheezed through my leaden lungs.

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped with a sob.

“Get her off the fucking floor.” Rome barked, dragging a hand down his face. “We’ve got to leave now if we want to get back in time for pizza night.”

“Pizza?” I sat up, affronted. “My mental anguish has to wait because you don’t want to be late for pizza?!”

Rome rolled his eyes and gave Fletcher a look. “Sal’spizza.” He reiterated.

Fletcher, who until that moment had watched me with a bemused expression, rolled his eyes and bent down. Extending a hand towards me.

I slapped it away and scooted back. “I died, like, two fricken days ago. Have some respect for my healing process.”

“We’re all dead,” Rome replied dryly.

Ollie raised a manicured hand. “Yahoo.” He called out. “I’m not dead.”

Rome ignored him. “You’re not the first person to die. It's a shared human experience. Newsflash. Wealldie. The only difference is that now you’re wearing a magic suit and a key card.”

“Charon never gave me a key card,” I said dumbly.

Rome blinked before stepping back. “I can’t. It's like talking to a bowl of mashed potatoes.” With that nasty comment, he left the room muttering to himself.

Fletcher knelt down, his hand still extended. “Come on.” He urged. “You’ll feel better once you get some sleep.”

I had a feeling he was right.

Chapter 3

Ollie bid us farewell with a flourish and two cheek kisses that never touched skin.

We walked back through the demonic BDSM dungeon/alchemist witch orgy lab and to the glass elevator.

Maddox, the severe-looking man, waited by the button plate with his arms crossed over his chest and a face filled with thunder.

Rome was tall, dark, and dangerous, but Maddox was all of those things times eleven. If Rome was a hunting knife, then Maddox was a tank.

Fletcher would probably be some kind of glitter bomb, but the shards of sparkles would be laced with arsenic or something.

I glanced at Fletcher out of the corner of my eye as he bounced alongside me.

Each of the men was so far from the people I usually hung out with that it wasn’t funny.

Not that gamers and influencers couldn’t be mysterious behind the veneer of their public profile—but I had never met people that didn’t care if I liked them. The fact they hadn’t even tried to engage me in conversation rustled my jimmies.

What I wouldn’t give for my usual Starbucks order, the amazon app, and an hour-long pedicure that required little to no conversation.

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