Page 6 of Trick or Stalk

I shut off the engine and climb out, not bothering to respond to him.

Cold air hits me as soon as my boots touch the ground. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves hangs heavy in the woods, mixed with pine and something smoky in the distance.

I look up at the cabin.

Maybe move-in ready was generous.

The pictures made it look better. A lot better.

The porch sags slightly on one end, the dark wooden siding has seen better decades, and one of the shutters hangs crooked beside a window.

But the roof looks good.

The property is secluded.

And it was cheap.

Those were my only requirements.

Wilder slams his door. “I think I saw this place in a horror movie.”

“Then you should feel right at home.”

He grins. “I knew there was a reason I came with you.”

“You came with me because I’m your ride.”

“Yeah. And I set our house on fire.”

“That too.”

I pop the tailgate.

Everything we own is in the back. Two suitcases. Three duffel bags. A couple of boxes.

Not much to show for our lives.

Then again, most of what we owned burned several states away.

Wilder reaches for one of the duffels.

“Not that one.”

His hand stops.

He slowly turns his head to me. “The only good thing he gave us, huh?”

“More like the only thing we stole from him.” I reach for it. “Rightly so.”

He holds up his hands. “Relax, Hades. I’m not going to leave it sitting on the porch with a sign that says Please steal me.”

I pull the bag off the tailgate. The weight pulls against my shoulder.

Wilder watches me. “You planning to sleep with that thing?”

“If I have to.”

“You need therapy.”