This has included a little rearranging of the house, and I’ve been relegated to the in-law suite above the garage. It has a kitchenette and bathroom, so they don’t feel bad about locking me out at night.
It’s an effort to keep us separated at night. But, little do they know, Scarlett is just as corrupt as me. She sneaks up to sleep with me most nights then creeps back to her room before the sun comes up.
In the fall, we won’t have to hide it. We’ll be back inourplace.
“This middle-of-the-night shit is for people with regulated nervous systems,” she mutters. “It would help if you could tell me where we are and what we’re doing.”
My attention narrows back in on her, and I lean down to kiss the top of her head. “Patience, grasshopper.”
“This isn’t another teaching moment, is it?”
I shake my head. “Shh.”
“Cross–”
“Hey!” Tyler slams his car door and hops out. “There you are.”
I smirk. “She hasn’t figured it out yet.”
He brightens. “No? Did she try guessing?”
“Aren’t our parents going to question why you brought me back to Shadow Valley for the night?”
“No.” I glance over our shoulders, but the coast is clear on the sidewalk. The street is empty, just as it was a few hours ago. “Because we’re not in Shadow Valley.”
She does a double-take. “You told me–”
“I didn’t really say anything when you made the assumption.” I grin. “Sorry. Your fault for falling asleep on the ride here, maybe?”
She looks around more, seeming to confirm her suspicions. We’re a few blocks away from the main strip of New Haven, Connecticut. Home of Yale University. I can see how she wouldconfuse it for Shadow Valley–sometimes, in the dark, all the New England towns look alike.
“I recognize this…”
Tyler, ahead of us, whirls around to walk backward. “Do you?”
She elbows me, but a thread of fear seems to travel up her back. Her shoulders tense, like someone’s going to jump out and grab her.
“I went to school here for two and a half years. Why the hell are we back in Connecticut?”
“I think it’s this one.” I pull her to a stop and turn her to face a house. It looks rather boring, the grass trimmed short, everything tidy. It’s abighouse, though, and usually there would be many people inside. But during the summer, it’s vacant.
Tyler double-checked while I went to get Scar.
She clutches my arm. “Cross, this isn’t funny.”
“You recognize it?”
“Of course I do,” she snaps. “Home of my worst nightmare.”
I brighten. “Great! Then you won’t be opposed to a little vandalism.”
She eyes me.
Tyler hauls some red containers from where he had stashed them in the bushes. He hands one to me and another to her. She takes it woodenly, not seeming to understand what I’m saying.
“What is this?”
“Gasoline.”
