Page 85 of A Witchy Spell Ride

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“You think it’s him?” he said.

“Enough to get eyes on him.” Cross again, all numbers and knives. “But he’s slick. Real slick.”

I didn’t wait to hear more. Didn’t knock. Didn’t ask permission.

I pushed open the door, hair still wet from the shower, dressed in black jeans and one of Briar’s band tees that saidRIDE ME, COWBOYin glitter font.

Cross arched a brow.

Ghost? He looked like he was trying not to tear the room apart.

“You should’ve told me sooner,” I said.

“You were still healing,” Ghost muttered.

“I’m not fragile,” I snapped.

“I know you’re not.” He stood, face like stone. “That’s the problem. You’ll run headfirst into a burning building if someone tells you, you can’t.”

“Then stop telling me I can’t.”

Cross wisely slid his laptop shut and walked out without another word, closing the door with the quiet finality of a priest absolving himself.

Ghost and I stood facing each other across the table like a showdown was coming. Only I wasn’t angry anymore.

I was ready.

“I’m going back to the shop.”

“Selene—”

“No. This ends where it started. He keeps using that place to get into my head. Then let’s see what happens when I turn around and stare him right in the fucking eye.”

Ghost exhaled hard, a sound like a match dragged across rough wood. “I’ll come with you.”

“Of course you will.”

He grabbed his cut. His gun. His fury.

And we left.

The shop was quiet when we got there. It always was in the early afternoon, too early for tourists, too late for coffee-chasers. The kind of quiet that made you hear the tiny sounds of a building breathing: wood settling, pipes tapping, the low hum of the back fridge.

Ghost checked the locks while I reset the warding charms, relit the candles, swept the back room even though we both knew Cross had cleared it twice already.

Still, something felt off.

The air was too still.

Like the silence before a storm.

I stepped behind the counter, pushed the cash drawer closed, and that’s when I saw it.

Another note.

But this time, it wasn’t just words.

It was taped to a tarot card.