Page 159 of Play Dirty

SEBASTIAN

The first thing I heard was the rumble of the engine.

I was in the kitchen, halfway through my second cup of coffee, when tires crunched over what used to be our driveway. I glanced out the window.

“Showtime,” I muttered.

Behind me, Haven shifted slightly against the counter. She’d wandered in a few minutes ago, fresh from my bed. Fresh from all of our beds actually, over the course of the night.

Which… yeah.

“You ready?” I asked.

She smirked. “For what?”

The air brakes on the bus hissed. The door opened. Voices followed.

Loud. Complaining. Alive.

I tipped my mug toward the window.

“For reality to punch us square in the balls.”

Haven chuckled, then winked at me.

“Lucky for me I don’t have balls.”

The front door didn’t just fly open, it practically exploded. Cold air blasted in. Noise followed.

“Jesus Christ—” Zack burst through first, hunched over, clutching his stomach. “Move—move—MOVE—”

He didn’t wait for a clear path, he just stormed right through. Sprinted straight down the hallway.

“Bathroom’s still the door on the—” Haven started.

Door slam.

Loud click.

Silence. Then—

“Oh THANK GOD—”

Ares snorted.

“Some things never change,” he said.

The rest of the team flooded in behind him, dragging duffel bags, snow, and attitude with them.

“Place better be warmer than that motel,” Caleb muttered, stomping snow off his boots.

“That place wasn’t a motel,” Zack yelled from behind the door. “It was a crime scene.”

“Pretty sure I saw chalk outlines,” Dorian added.

“Those were stains.”

“Worse.”