Page 76 of Crash into me
“The whole crew is in the living room, so we’re safe,” he murmurs against my neck. “And I’m going to kill every fucking person in the Keeper’s circle, and then him with my own hands.”
30
We head into the kitchen, meeting Adeline at the coffee pot. “Morning.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around Foster.
She’s so unaware of the danger, and we need to keep it that way. “Good morning.” I grin.
She wipes her sleepy eyes. “Oh! Hello, Skyler! Did you stay the night?”
“Yes,” I reply sheepishly, hoping she isn’t upset. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask. We slept in Sophie’s room.”
She waves her hand in the air, taking a sip of coffee. “I don’t care if you stay the night with my grandson. You’re both adults.” She smiles. “Just make sure you wear protection.”
I nearly spit out my coffee.
“Grams!” Foster shakes his head, laughing.
Adeline turns beet red, walking over to the fridge. “Why are your little frat friends here?”
He doesn’t correct her, and it’s probably better if she thinks he’s in a frat. “We had a long night. I didn’t want anyone driving home drinking.”
She eyes the bottle on the counter and pats his cheek. “Smart boy. I’m going to go get ready for work.”
The guys rustle awake. “Need us to stay?” Ryder asks Foster in a low hum.
Foster simply shakes his head; he knows nothing will happen without the cover of dark. “I’m going to get them out of here. Just come back later and grab their things.”
“Any plan on retaliation?” Ryder wonders.
“We’re going to the yard tonight,” he tells him.
We’re all alone now, since Ryder and Callum left. “What’s the yard?” I inquire quietly.
Foster doesn’t make eye contact with me. “A dark stretch of the ocean in the outskirts of the city, where the bet keepers dwell.” He raises his hands, trying to make it spooky. But he doesn’t have to try; the shivers on my skin do a good enough job of freaking me out. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine. I just wanna talk.”
I can’t help but laugh. “No you don’t. You want to kill. I heard you last night.”
“You’re not coming,” he tells me, pulling open Sophie’s arts and crafts drawer in the living room. He takes out a paint sponge and a tube of cheap, black children’s paint.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I didn’t say I was.”
He sends me a pointed look, handing me the sponge. “Don’t lie.”
“Well, whatever. I’m coming. What if they kill you and throw you into the harbor? No one will ever find your body.”
“You’re a good swimmer, so you’ll find me,” he teases, guiding us to the guest bathroom. I run the sponge under the faucet.
I stand beside him, watching as he squirts the blank paint on the wall in the corner crease. “This isn’t a joke, Ghost,” I grumble, handing him the sponge.
“I know that, Shadow,” he retorts, patting the paint into the wall with the wet sponge to make it look more spore like. “I highly doubt the Keeper will even be there. No one’s ever seen him.”
“I’m going,” I whisper as we go back into the kitchen, throwing away our evidence in the bottom of the trash can.
“Over my dead, harbor sunk body,” he teases.
Sophie breaks our heated conversation; she’s in her pajamas and sliding her feet across the hardwood floor with a wide, tooth missing grin. “Look who came.” She wiggles the voucher in her hand.
Foster throws his hand over his face. “We’re busy today, Runt. I’m sorry.”