Page 97 of Horror and Chill
I ignore him.
I lean closer, shoulder pressed to the seat, eyes on her mouth. She doesn’t back down. Just tilts her chin like she’s daring me.
“Corwin,” she says, softer, almost teasing.
“Yeah, baby?”
Her eyes spark. “Don’t call me that.”
“Then what? Little Horror?” I grin when her lips twitch. Nailed it. She likes it, even if she pretends not to.
She shifts, gaze sliding back to the window. “You’re insufferable.”
“Say that like you don’t love it.”
Silence. She doesn’t deny it.
Evander offers her a water bottle. “Here.”
She takes it, fingers brushing his, and gives him a smile. My chest goes tight. She never looks at me like that. At least not yet.
The road unrolls in front of us. Garron goes on about check-in, supplies, the week ahead. Practical shit. Evander hums. I turn around and watch her reflection in the visor mirror. She’s eating this up, and she wants us to know it.
I remember her most recent stream. Jason mask. Her moaning like she wanted us there with her. I shift in my seat, biting back a groan.
“You good there?” she asks, mocking.
I bare mine right back. “Never better.”
Traffic thins as we merge onto the highway. Garron cranks on low classic rock on the radio, and starts humming. Evander leans against the door with his eyes closed, but he’s not asleep. His hand twitches when she shifts closer.
She finally speaks. “So where are we staying?”
“A house,” Garron says. “Out in the woods. Private.”
Her brows lift. “Good.”
I laugh. “Private enough so no one hears you scream.”
She doesn’t even blink. Just grins. “Then you better make it worth the silence.”
My gut twists. I can’t stop grinning.
The car settles into rhythm, and for the first time in days, I feel steady. Not calm. But steady. Because she’s here. Coming with us.
I dig my phone out, thumbs flying as I type a text out to only my brothers.
Me: Anyone else shocked she actually got in the car willingly?
Garron: Not shocked.
Evander: She knows what she wants.
Me: Yeah. Us.
And Agatha smirking like she knows exactly what we’re typing.
“You shouldn’t text and drive. It’s dangerous,” she sasses.
