Page 36 of Haunted Spurs

"Do you seriously live in a place like this?" The voice belongs to Dustin, who joins the group with his blonde wife, Sierra, in tow. She's wearing a short denim skirt, a light, flowy white top, and a pair of soft brown leather boots. He's practically glued to her side.

"Well, yeah. I actually just bought it recently," Ron explains, his tone easy and affable. "Haven't set foot in it for weeks, though. They kicked me out almost immediately to set it up for the show."

As he speaks, almost without me realizing it, gravity runs its invisible course. Ron and I have drifted a little closer. The space between our shoulders has thinned until it disappears completely. His intoxicating scent floods my senses.

God. My heart kicks into high gear again, hammering against my ribcage at a frantic pace.

"Who else are we missing? I can't remember," Sam cuts in, running a hand through his hair.

"The twins," Indya answers promptly. With impeccable timing, she shoots a look and a decidedly unveiled wink straight at Carolina.

Lizzie smiles, catching on immediately. "Oh, yeah. Do you happen to know where they are?"

Carolina's eyebrows shoot toward the sky, crossing her arms with an expression of absolute (and completely fake) innocence. "And why on earth would I know that, excuse me?"

Almost everyone bursts out laughing. Even I can't hold back a half-laugh. Cole practically made a shameless declaration of intent to her on live television, after all.

"Why shouldn't you know?"

A low, drawling, cocky voice makes me turn around. And there they are. The twins, Cade and Cole, striding gloriously toward the group in all their splendor: plaid shirts, massive silver buckles, Wrangler jeans, and dusty work boots.

"Okay..." Carolina clears her throat, though it's painfully obvious she can't take her eyes off Cole's approaching rogue grin. "So, by my count, that just leaves... Emerson and Susan."

We all look around, almost on pure instinct. But there's no one in sight.

The autumn sun is dipping low on the horizon, stretching the black shadows of the massive, centuries-old trees like skeletal fingers across the ground. A cold shiver runs down my spine.

"Shh... did you hear that?" Emma whispers suddenly, her voice trembling slightly.

We all fall silent instantly, the laughter snuffed out by the apprehension in her tone.

"I don't hear a damn thing," Sierra brushes it off, clinging to her husband's chest.

"You mean, besides the sound of my kisses?" Dustin murmurs, going right back to peppering her neck with kisses, completely impermeable and blind to the tension building in the group.

"Shh," Levi insists. His tone has gone rigid, authoritative. He heard something, too.

And then, in the almost unnatural silence of the countryside, we all hear it. Crick. Crack.

A violent rustling in the thick, dark bushes lining the edge of the woods. The branches thrash brutally. But... there is no wind. The air is completely dead, still. My pragmatic brain immediately catalogs the sound rationally: an animal. A deer, maybe a giant raccoon.

Emma gasps, stepping back. Levi, with the lightning-fast reflexes of someone who handles emergencies for a living, immediately slides an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side to reassure her.

Then, the noise gets louder. Closer. Snap.

Dry branches break under the weight of heavy footsteps. Someone—or something—is walking through the brush, heading straight for us.

"I'll go check it out," Levi declares, stepping forward with his jaw clenched, ready for action.

But Emma lets out a terrified whimper and grabs a fistful of his t-shirt, yanking him back hard. "No!"

"Maybe it's just the production crew hiding," Lizzie chimes in. "Maybe they want to prank us before they open the gates. A live jumpscare for the hidden cameras..."

"Wait," Ron whispers. His hand presses a little firmer on my arm. He tilts his head. "I hear voices."

We all strain our ears, holding our breath. The sound of trampled bushes is now accompanied by harsh muttering. Then, the words suddenly become clear.

"I told you that, statistically and topographically, this was not the right path!" a male voice exclaims, clearly irritated.