Page 260 of Stay Scared

Nobody follows.

Nobody appears without being invited.

When I come back, they make room.

That was the part none of us knew how to do eighteen months ago.

Tonight, closing takes longer than usual. A broken wall panel near the morgue corridor keeps catching one performer’s costume, so Cade tears the entire section apart rather than patching it. Owen disappears into security after a camera begins dropping frames. Ash stands alone in the briefing room staring at a revised route map like the paper personally offended him.

I find him there after the last participant leaves. He keeps reading as I enter, leaving me to decide whether concentration or performance deserves the credit.

“You’re still working.”

Ash keeps reading the route. “So are you.”

“I came to remove you from the building.”

“Authoritarian of you.”

“You like authoritarian.”

His eyes lift with the same dark focus that eighteen months, several investigations, lawyers, rebuilding, and living with me part of the week have failed to soften.

Ash looks at the closed door behind me. “You locked it.”

“I did.”

His mouth shifts. “That’s interesting.”

I lean against the table. “Do not make that face.”

“What face?”

“The one that convinces you closed doors are gifts.”

“That interpretation has historically produced mixed results.”

“Exactly.”

Ash leaves the route map and crosses the room slowly. His face is uncovered tonight, nothing between me and what he wants. He stops close enough that my back touches the edge of the table, then closes one hand firmly around my hip.

“I have been waiting since four this afternoon for you to stop talking to other people.”

“That is deeply unhealthy.”

“It is.”

He does not attempt to soften it.

I hook two fingers through the front of his shirt. “You survived.”

“Barely.”

“That was almost dramatic.”

His grip tightens. “I watched Cade put his hands on you during the demonstration.”

“He was showing a performer the catch.”