Just as I am about to drop my hands, I hear a whisper from deep within me.
The sound is so faint as it travels from my sternum to my neck and out through my ears. The delicate sound forms in the space where my hand is cupped. I shut my eyes in sheer terror of what I am hearing.
“Welcome home, Lola,” the unrecognizable voice sounds in my ear. “We have been waiting for you.”
10
Lola
Muffled voices sound around me,calling my name. I keep my hands glued to my ears, too afraid to drop them. Even though the call didn’t come from the outside, it came from within me.
My arms begin to shake as hands curl their intent digits on my prickled flesh.
“Lola, it’s okay,” the voice says.Cillian.
I open my eyes, drop my hands, and throw myself into him.
He’s so warm.
Grabbing me by my ass cheeks, he hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around his middle, locking myself to his body. My fingers glide over his forehead to the stray piece of hair covering his beautiful, dark eyes. I grin, unable to say anything, not even after what I just heard. But, in his arms, I’m content and welcome the silence.
Footsteps crunch behind me. As I turn, still suspended in Cillian’s hold, Paxton comes near us, running his ringed fingers against my jawline before grabbing my chin toward him.
“I’m all for some physical activity, but I didn’t think we’d be sprinting after you tonight.” He smiles before pressing his lips to mine. I drop one of my hands clasping onto Cillian’s neck and run it through the thick scruff that surrounds Pax’s lips. Finally, I feel my heartbeat returning to its normal pace.
Cillian lets me down, and I turn once more to the tunnel's opening, but the raven is gone. So is the ice-cold feeling. If anything, I am covered in sweat, which usually pisses me off, but tonight, I will gladly drown in my own perspiration if it means I don’t have to experience that—whatever that was.
My hands at my side, I feel a tug. I turn my neck away from the direction of the tunnel, seeing both of them kneading my hand in theirs.
“This way,” they say in unison, heading toward Amontillado’s Mortuary. “We want to show you something.”
* * *
“You have to be kidding,”I say in awe. Stopping at the top of the concrete ramp of Amontillado’s Mortuary, I stare at a high-back seat stationed on the other side of the rusted track.
Despite the backdrop of cobwebs and weeds extending their reach from the exposed brick walls to the cracked cement beneath our feet, the ride still glistens amongst the decay surrounding it.
Eyes fixed on the track, I hear the distinct jingle of Cillian’s chain he wears through the loops of his pants, chiming like a bell the closer he moves toward me.
“You like?” He motions in front of us before pressing my backside against his chest. He drapes his long limbs on either side of me, embracing my body.
I take my hands to his ink-filled arms that hang over my shoulders, breathing in his cedarwood scent.
“Yea, this is so cool,” I begin, melting into the warmth of his arms, when a popping sound startles me.
“It’s ok,” he reassures me, tightening his hold on my body. He squeezes me more before his head that hangs above mine, even with his bent posture, lowers to kiss my cheek. “Pax is just checking on the generator.”
Relieved, I tilt my head back so Cillian’s black irises are locked with mine. “I didn’t think a generator could run all this,” I say, noticing the long expression on his face.
He nestles his chin on top of my shoulder, breathing into my neck. “You scared me before,” he begins. “If this is too much for you, we can leave…” He keeps talking, but his words are drowned out by what I now identify as the generator rumbling.
Cillian finishes his sentence, though his jaw elongates with a firm expression, looking like there is something else he needs to say.
I’m about to ask him to repeat himself when Paxton reemerges.
“Alright, we should be all set. So, we can get this baby going.” He rubs his open palms together before heading to the small control panel near the dusty podium close to where Cillian and I stand.
Once he flips the switch below the weathered wood of what once stood as a ride attendant station, the sconce lights around us, as well as the rows of strung bulbs above us, begin to shine.
