Page 96
Story: Rivals & Revenge
I laced our fingers together, giving them a squeeze, then did the same to Larissa on the other side of me. We were in this together, whatever the outcome.
We rounded a curve, and the house came into view. A modern eyesore, its lines too perfect—a stark white box set against the greenery of the surrounding hills.
"You can lead a bitch to money—" Larissa muttered.
"But you can't buy taste." I finished, echoing her sentiment.
The three of us shared a laugh, but it ended too soon as we rolled to a stop where the gravel transitioned into smooth concrete.
"We have a plan. Stick to it and we all go home tonight."
They opened the doors, and I held Ahren back. My fingers dug into his arm, desperate to claw back some of his solid strength and borrow it for myself.
“The last words Carissa ever said to me were I love you. She didn’t tell me goodbye, just ‘I love you’, so I never got to say goodbye.”
“I love you doesn’t mean goodbye, Tierney.” he whispered, the backs of his fingers ghosting down the side of my face.
“I know that. Logically and rationally, I know that. But my heart—” My head shook softly from side to side, slowly.
“After my mother died, love was a bad word. My father saw it as a weakness. But it isn't a weakness, and it isn’t goodbye.”
“I—” his fingers pressed against my lips.
“I can’t begin to tell you how much I want to hear those words from you. To know you feel the same for me. Especially when we’re staring down a psycho.” he laughed. “save it for after. Tell me after the world doesn’t end.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and left me alone in the truck.
Ten breaths. That’s how long I allowed myself to feel the ache in my chest before I pushed it back down where it belonged, stiffened my spine and stepped out, ready to end this.
“Move fast, think slow.” I murmured to myself, preparing for the chaos ahead.
I rounded the front of the truck just in time to see Ahren hand an odd-shaped gun to Larissa.
"Is that—"
"A flamethrower. Yep." She said, not bothering to hide the excitement in her voice.
He shrugged. "I told you I had the maze handled."
"You win." I laughed. “Good luck ambushing us with it on fire.”
Larissa walked past us, quickly rounding the corner of the house, presumably to light the maze.
Ahren and I drew our weapons. I hadn't told him—I should, but I hadn't yet. My new scout felt better in my hands than the old one ever did. Not sure what kind of witchcraft this was, but it was true.
The weight of the gun as I raised it, fitting the stock against the pocket in my shoulder, the tilt of my head, looking through the scope, each step familiar. Practiced movements that settled my racing pulse as if on command. My gaze swept across the sloping hills and sparsely wooded areas to the north of the house.
"Fuck!" Ahren swore, just as the shot rang out. Blood dripped from his ear as he turned northward, pistol raised as he searched for his shooter.
I kneeled, still sweeping the woods.
"Gotcha." I murmured, firing at the sharp glint of sunlight high in the canopy of a massive oak.
"Found him?"
I shrugged. "Either that, or I just fucked up a squirrel who likes blingy things."
Our current position was too exposed. I hated it, but there was nothing in the yard to use as cover.
We rounded a curve, and the house came into view. A modern eyesore, its lines too perfect—a stark white box set against the greenery of the surrounding hills.
"You can lead a bitch to money—" Larissa muttered.
"But you can't buy taste." I finished, echoing her sentiment.
The three of us shared a laugh, but it ended too soon as we rolled to a stop where the gravel transitioned into smooth concrete.
"We have a plan. Stick to it and we all go home tonight."
They opened the doors, and I held Ahren back. My fingers dug into his arm, desperate to claw back some of his solid strength and borrow it for myself.
“The last words Carissa ever said to me were I love you. She didn’t tell me goodbye, just ‘I love you’, so I never got to say goodbye.”
“I love you doesn’t mean goodbye, Tierney.” he whispered, the backs of his fingers ghosting down the side of my face.
“I know that. Logically and rationally, I know that. But my heart—” My head shook softly from side to side, slowly.
“After my mother died, love was a bad word. My father saw it as a weakness. But it isn't a weakness, and it isn’t goodbye.”
“I—” his fingers pressed against my lips.
“I can’t begin to tell you how much I want to hear those words from you. To know you feel the same for me. Especially when we’re staring down a psycho.” he laughed. “save it for after. Tell me after the world doesn’t end.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and left me alone in the truck.
Ten breaths. That’s how long I allowed myself to feel the ache in my chest before I pushed it back down where it belonged, stiffened my spine and stepped out, ready to end this.
“Move fast, think slow.” I murmured to myself, preparing for the chaos ahead.
I rounded the front of the truck just in time to see Ahren hand an odd-shaped gun to Larissa.
"Is that—"
"A flamethrower. Yep." She said, not bothering to hide the excitement in her voice.
He shrugged. "I told you I had the maze handled."
"You win." I laughed. “Good luck ambushing us with it on fire.”
Larissa walked past us, quickly rounding the corner of the house, presumably to light the maze.
Ahren and I drew our weapons. I hadn't told him—I should, but I hadn't yet. My new scout felt better in my hands than the old one ever did. Not sure what kind of witchcraft this was, but it was true.
The weight of the gun as I raised it, fitting the stock against the pocket in my shoulder, the tilt of my head, looking through the scope, each step familiar. Practiced movements that settled my racing pulse as if on command. My gaze swept across the sloping hills and sparsely wooded areas to the north of the house.
"Fuck!" Ahren swore, just as the shot rang out. Blood dripped from his ear as he turned northward, pistol raised as he searched for his shooter.
I kneeled, still sweeping the woods.
"Gotcha." I murmured, firing at the sharp glint of sunlight high in the canopy of a massive oak.
"Found him?"
I shrugged. "Either that, or I just fucked up a squirrel who likes blingy things."
Our current position was too exposed. I hated it, but there was nothing in the yard to use as cover.
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