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CHARLOTTE
Jill . . . The name kept popping around in my head, driving me a bit nuts. I needed the rest of that story, but I assumed I wouldn’t be getting it anytime soon. That shouldn’t have been my priority now that I knew who was after us. And yet, I couldn’t get the sad sound of his voice out of my head as he’d said her name.
“Okay, I don’t know if I can take any more hot men joining us. This guy is on another level, too,” Lucy said, drawing my focus her way. “I’d say we stumbled into a rom-com with delicious actors, but there’s nothing exactly funny about our situation.” Somehow, there was still humor clinging to her tone. Her attention was fixed on Jesse as he spoke with his team, huddled in the corner of our haunted hotel where I sure as hell hoped we didn’t plan to stay as guests.
There was still furniture, but it was covered in layers of the earth, and any step we took sent plumes of dust (only a mild exaggeration) shooting into the air, making me gag.
But honestly, it was the way the walls and floorboards howled and cried for mercy when we weren’t moving that had me doing some major cringing, burying my fingernails into my sister’s side as I held her tight alongside me.
And wait, rom-com? What was Lucy talking about? This was clearly a romantic suspense. And I was done with it. I stole my focus back to the door in case we needed to make a quick escape. I had no desire to sit, lean, or lie any-freaking-where. Get me out of here.
The only light filtering into the room came from one window Mason had used his still-damp tee to swipe off the dust. Oliver had lit the lantern he’d snatched from the backpack, placing it in the center of the room. That was it. So, when I loosened my hold of my sister to peer at her, I doubted she’d make out my facial expression as I asked, “Are you really talking about how hot everyone is?”
Mason’s throat-clear cut across the room, and Casper the unfriendly ghost (okay, I was imagining that), appeared to be cackling upstairs. It’s in my head. All in my head. God, I hated scary shit. Even imaginary scary shit. And even more so since there was plenty of real shit to worry about.
“I think Mason heard you.” Lucy gently stepped on my toe to demand my attention. “Would you rather me think about the fact we’re trying to avoid being killed while ironically standing inside a house where I’m betting people were murdered—and yes, I think those are blood stains on the floor?”
I walked back a step, bumping into the wall, taking Lucy with me.
Mason swiveled around, and I assumed he was looking at us. “You two okay?” Not that I could see that well, because we’d moved, which meant I was seconds away from choking on the ashes of some murder victim.
“We’re just dandy,” Lucy said as I coughed a few times, trying to find my breath. She freed herself from my embrace and playfully elbowed me in the side.
You wouldn’t be “dandy” if you knew who was hunting us. But did he set us up, drawing us here? Or is this a horrible accident he stumbled upon us? Either option sucked, but we were in this situation now regardless of how we got there.
And as soon as I told Lucy who was behind our “jungle excursion” today, she’d forget all about the level of hotness of Jack’s teammates.
Casper was already laughing his ass off upstairs at what was to come.
Screw my life. This can’t be real. We’d gone from a reality dating show to being part of The Blair Witch Project.
“They’re coming in,” Carter announced a beat later, and the door creaked open, sending a little shockwave through the house that could literally be felt beneath my soggy running shoes.
“This place feels like it’s going to collapse. Maybe we don’t stay here long,” Grayson said once Jack closed the door behind him.
I hated that Jack’s best friend could barely stand the sight of me. But I had to remind myself he thought I was a killer. Plus, there was that little element of his father basically being the President’s right-hand man when it came to all things military. He was bound to be a by-the-books kind of guy, right? And he was going to look out for Jack the way I’d protect Lucy; I couldn’t blame him.
“On the same page.” Lucy shot her hand in the air.
“Oh, so now you’re ready to go, hmm?” I said to her, which earned me another little elbow I doubted anyone could clock in the dimly lit room.
“Here.” Jack walked over and offered me a shirt. “This is dry. You want it?”
I looked at it for a moment, unsure what to do. “Everyone else is topless, well, aside from Jesse and Grayson, so why shouldn’t I be?”
When Jack shoved the shirt in my hand anyway, Lucy took his unspoken hint and left us alone. Still not taking it, he brought his mouth to my ear. “Sweetheart, you’re about to tell my team your story, and I’d prefer not to be distracted by your tits that keep trying to play peekaboo around your current attire.” That dark edge to his tone slid under my skin and I nearly forgot about the creepy house, especially when his breath blew across my ear.
Well, I hope that’s your breath, and not a ghost.
“Please,” he begged. “Wear it for me.”
Once the goose bumps were fully formed for the third time since I’d set foot in that house, I accepted the shirt and wordlessly did as he asked. He tipped his head in a thank-you, and I gulped, knowing what was about to happen—story time. “Are we doing this here? The truth?”
Carter lined himself up alongside Grayson, and said, “I don’t think this house can withhold a gunfight when the next team is sent. It’ll collapse right on top of us.”
“And you think another team will come?” my sister asked him, now the only one not clued into the fact those men were after us.
“You didn’t tell her?” Jack asked in surprise.
