Page 192 of Menace in Vegas

I blink. “Jesus Christ.”

Peyton appears behind her, still pale but steadier than last night. “I’ll go with her,” she says softly. “Make sure everything’s okay.”

“You sure?” I ask, eyeing her. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to.” Her gaze flicks to Daltyn. Just for a second.

Then she’s gone.

He watches her leave like she’s taking the last of his sanity with her.

From inside, Allie calls, “I’m grabbing a quick shower before we go anywhere.”

“Ok,” I yell back.

I nod toward the door, then glance at Daltyn. “Let’s see where the prints lead.”

We start walking toward the dunes, the wet sand sucking at our feet.

The sky might be clear, but whatever’s coming hasn’t passed.

It’s getting closer.

92

ALLISON

Ishut off the water and step out of the shower, steam curling around my ankles like it doesn’t want to let go.

The air is thick and heavy with a warning.

I shiver. That thought is morbid. I don’t know why I’m overreacting.

I grab a towel, wrap it around myself, and rake my fingers through my damp hair.

Then I hear a sound. It’s soft. A faint creek from outside the closed door.

I freeze, towel mid-motion.

“Connor?”

No answer.

I tilt my head, listening.

But it’s silent.

It’s probably the pipes. Or the bungalow settling. Stop overreacting.

Still, the back of my neck prickles.

I dress quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and one of Connor’s worn, oversized T-shirts, then crack open the bathroom door.

My bare feet meet the cool floor as I step into the main room.

Something feels… off.

Not loud or obvious. Just wrong.

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