“Oh,” I waved my arm dismissively, “that won’t be a problem. Kids are easier than adults. They’re cool with whatever I suggest. But how areyouholding up? Getting nervous? Father of the bride.” I poked his arm as he placed the pizza box on the counter and rang me up.
“Not at all. I’m excited to get her out of my house.” He worked hard to put a grumpy edge to his voice, but his lips curved in a playful smile.
His daughter, Morgan, was fresh out of college and getting ready to marry her high school sweetheart. And they had thrown me a little extra work. I was doing hair and makeup for the bridal party and had been invited to attend the wedding—including the reception. Which had an open bar. No way inhellI’d turn that down.
After paying for the pizza, I dropped a few bucks into the tip jar, as always. And, as always, Bo rolled his eyes and gave me a bashful grin. “You take care now, Addie.” He waved and then turned when his phone rang.
I slipped out the door, clutching the warm pizza box close to my chest as a chill ripped up my spine. Abadchill. Like the tingly sensation I’d get while watching a horror movie.
I teetered on the curb, tempted to ask Bo to walk me to my car. But that was stupid. There was nothing out there! Everything looked and sounded normal: traffic chugging along, an airplane zooming through the air, somebody arguing with a significant other in the shitty apartments above the strip mall…
Besides, my car was only fifteen feet away.
I stepped off the curb and booked it, trying to ignore the cold sweat dripping down my back.
“Oh, you stupid stone-aged piece of shit,” I hissed as I pounded my thumb against the clicker and got zero response from my car. Which, okay, my car was old. Like,a model not even made in the past two decadesold. So the clicker was hit or miss anymore. But it was still annoying when it crapped out.
I hissed out another curse as I propped the pizza box on the roof and shoved my key into the lock.
Above me, the light flickered. On. Off. On. Off.
I twisted the key, and glanced up, my blood running cold as the light went out and I caught my reflection in the window.
There I was: my blonde hair twisted into a braid, my purple eyes wide—yes, they were actually purple. A (spectacular) genetic defect.
Behind me stood a shadow. A human-shaped shadow.
I never saw their face. But the lock of their hair fluttering in the wind was so vibrantly red, it looked fake. Neon colored.
My heart hammered in my chest and my stomach gave a painful lurch. “Wh—”
I never got to finish my words.
A hand smashed into the back of my neck, shoving me forward. My forehead cracked against the hard glass of the window, and I dropped like a fucking stone.
2
A Snowball’s Chance in Hell
Oh JesusChrist!My head hurt.
I groaned and flopped onto my side. The pain was nauseating. Like someone was squeezing my skull with an enormous clamp.
I’d overdone it with the alcohol again, hadn’t I?
But I didn’t remember going out for drinks. I didn’t rememberanything.
I grunted again. And then shuddered when someone else moaned in my ear.Shit.Did I bring someone home last night? Or, worse, did I go to someone else’s place?
I pried my eyes open, one at a time, cringing as the sunlight drove white-hot needles of pain into my skull. I’d never drink again. Nope, nope, nope. I said this whenever I woke up hungover, but I meant it this time. I was too goddamn old for this.
And…the heck? Was Ioutside?
I blinked, staring at the cloudless blue sky above me.
What in actualfuckhappened last night?
I racked my brain, trying to mentally retrace my steps.
