Page 91 of Haunt the Mall

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Page 91 of Haunt the Mall

He leaned forward, then hesitated. Maybe because I’d tensed. Or maybe because he’d hurt his back.

“Good night, Kat,” he whispered. Then, he left. His chilly touch lingered under my flaming skin.

The words, ‘The End’ flickered behind my eyelids. He hadn’t said it, but it was there. Looming. If he couldn’t open up, and I couldn’t stop craving more, we’d both be unhappy.

Head down, he braced himself and walked as if he was condemning himself to the widow. To the theater. To the drama of whatever we’d been.

I sniffled and blinked back hot tears. I really could’ve loved him. I did.

Zero furrowed her brow at us.

What? Did she not have sympathy for us sentient beings? She probably loved him for not telling her anything.

Well, I wasn’t going to stew in front of a movie waiting for Victor to change his mind. He’d probably try to change mine by fucking my worries away. I wouldn’t bury my heart in our heat. Not this time.

I shoved open the parking lot doors and marched into the crisp fall air. The sky bled orange and yellow. I twirled my cross, searching for red cars and strange men.

Maybe I shouldn’t have decided to walk by myself after all that had happened. I dialed the only person I trusted to embrace my messiest self at the moment.

Tori picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hi.” I sniffed. “I hate men.”

A thick thud indicated she’d closed her textbook. “What happened?” she asked. “I thought you were in love, talking about marriage.”

Shame bristled through my veins. “I-I liked Victor a lot. But there’s stuff with my job, and he won’t open up.” I glanced over my shoulder at the shiny black doors of the theater. “I feel like I can’t trust anybody, no matter how long I’ve known them or how deep we’ve connected. Victor’s a protective, sexy guy, but what if it’s all mirage? What if I was hypnotized by lust? I don’t know. I thought he was the one. But maybe…” I sucked in a wobbly breath. “Maybe I have seen too many movies.”

She gasped. “Oh, Kat.”

“It’s fine. At least I have Jinx.” I rubbed my wet cheeks. “He doesn’t judge me unless he’s hungry.”

“Are you hungry? You should come over for dinner. It’ll take your mind off Victor, and I could use a distraction from studying. Us sisters are supposed to stick together,” she needled.

“I guess we should.” As much as I hated to say it, I kind of wanted to be babied for an evening. No thinking. No crying. Just a home-cooked meal and decent company. “Wait. Jen won’t be there, will she?”

“Um, I dunno. Maybe,” she squeaked.

“You are such a bad liar.”

“I don’t know what she’s doing,” Tori lamented. “The walls are thin, but we can’t hear everything. I…I don’t like keeping secrets. Especially from family.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest? No way you’re related to the rest of us.” I held my boobs down with my arm so they wouldn’t jiggle too painfully, then hurried towards my car. “I guess I can get along with Jen for one evening.”

By the time I got to my parents' house, the orange sky had simmered into a soft pink. I bumped the tire swing with my knee in a creaky hello, then knocked on the front door. Technically, I still had a key, but I doubted they'd love me barging in. Tori cracked open the red door.

"You're here," she breathed, hurrying me inside. "Good. Because—"

A door slammed.

“You don't understand,” Jen screeched from upstairs.

Mom's voice carried too. “I understand you’re being selfish. I’ve had enough of this attitude.”

I raised my brows. “They're fighting?”

Tori nodded and hugged my arm, her eyes round and slightly shiny.

“Aw, c'mere.” I led her to the kitchen. The scent of cinnamon and sticky apples wafted from a silver pot. “Oh my gosh, Mom’s making cider?” I grinned.




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