Page 34 of Heartless

“If you say shit like that, you sound like a stalker.” My fingers stroke over Minxy’s ears, and I can’t help feeling like she’s judging me for this conversation. But I just frown at her, making a face at the large cat.

“I am a stalker. Your stalker, actually. Doesn’t that make you feel special?”

“It certainly makes me feel something.” I pause, unsure of what to say for a few moments. “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. That’s all. I’d been hoping to see you tonight but…”He laughs dryly. “I think maybe your nephew might not like it if he wakes up and I’m in his house. So we’ll take a raincheck.”

God, he’s definitely watching me. I can’t help looking around the room, anxious, though all I see from the glow of the television is Lou’s pristine, empty house.

It seems like everywhere I go, I usually find an empty house. Whether it be Lou’s house when she’s out on a trip with Dan, Cass’s old house that I’d gone back to only once. Or my house, which has felt empty and full of ghosts at the same time since the moment my finger pulled the trigger on his gun.

“Winnie?”Cassian’s voice drags me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“I’m always okay.”

“Well, you don’t always have to be.”The words are unexpected and soft. Sweet, in a way. For a murderer. “Maybe you could be not okay for once, and let me help you.”

I have no idea what to say to that. “I…I always make sure I’m okay.” That’s the only thing that comes out of my mouth and my eyes stay fixed on the television while my insides twist with unfamiliar feelings and a strange kind of nervousness.

“You should let me try it. See if I can make you feel okay as well.” There’s a teasing note in his words, and I find I hang on every single one. God, either I’m desperate or just a problem.

Maybe both.

“I’ll let you get back to your movie, Winnie.” He doesn’t seem to mind that I haven’t been able to say a damn thing in the past thirty seconds. “And maybe get better candy. Chocolate covered raisins? By choice?”

“Wait—” I look down at the box in my hand. “How do you know?—”

“Good night, Winnie. Like I said…I just wanted to hear your voice tonight.”He doesn’t let me ask a question, or at least stumble to try to find the one I want an answer for. Instead he hangs up, leaving me with my phone to my ear and the cat glaring at me in judgment.

“Oh, yeah?” I set my phone on the end table and settle back against the armrest. “You try talking to him or telling him to leave or…literally anything. He’s difficult, okay?”And amurderer.But I don’t need to say that part out loud. Minxy resettles on my lap, stretching out over my stomach when I lay down on the couch, and it’s not long before the combination of an eighties slasher and her purrs put me to sleep.

Chapter

Fifteen

“Ever heard of Dayquil? Mucinex? Literally any decongestant on the market?” Reagan’s voice is dry as I sniffle, nose running and a little raw.

“Ever heard of empathy?” I mutter in reply, my voice sounding a little off because of my allergies. “And I took some shit before we left. It just takes a bit to kick in.”

“Maybe you should take more.” Reagan watches me, silently judging when I scrub my itchy nose on the sleeve of my hoodie.

I roll my eyes at her, feet crunching on the gravel as we head toward the trio of buildings in the dark. Manic Manor has been around as long as I can remember, though it’s grown from one haunt to four in the past ten years or so. “Warehouse and manor first?” I ask, guessing from our normal routine that we’re going to do the same thing as usual. "Then the forest?” We tend to skip the smaller house, which is more for kids than adults.

Reagan looks contemplative, tilting her head from one side to the other. She bites her lip, as if this really is some big decision she’s having to make, then says, “Why don’t we mix it up this year? Forest first. Then manor. Then slaughterhouse?” She raises her eyebrows at me in question.

“Sure.” It’s not like I have much of an opinion. We’re here to do all three, so as long as that happens, I’m just along for the ride. “Why the change this year? Normally you like your routine even more than me.”

“I’m feeling frisky.” She puts a dramatic bounce in her step and I sniffle as I watch her, wishing I could breathe normally.

My eyes flick around the open courtyard, first toward the line to the ticket booth and then toward the hot chocolate stand. It’s cold tonight, colder than it has been lately, and I blame the weather for my snotty nose and congested sinuses. “Okay,frisky. Could you grab our tickets? I’m going to go blow my nose.”

If I don’t, I worry it’ll start dripping mid haunted forest, and I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than getting startled by a man in a mask with snot running down my face. Reagan agrees with a salute and I quickly walk toward the other side of the open yard to the hot chocolate stand. One of the girls looks up at me, and I hesitate, feeling suddenly guilty for just coming over here to swipe napkins.

“Just one, please?” I request, fishing around in my pockets for my wallet. “Extra marshmallows?”

“Two, actually.” The smooth, amused voice startles me just as a hand appears at my side, handing the girl a twenty. “And you can keep the change.”

I don’t need to turn to know who’s here. The girl stares up at Cassian, a small, nervous red tint in her cheeks as she meets his eyes. “Yeah. Umm. Absolutely. Did you want extra marshmallows too?”

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