Corbin plucked a shiny red apple from the top crate and casually tossed it between his hands. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the cross frame today.”
Sleeping in the corn maze on the wooden frame in my other form was my way of ensuring I got the rest I needed without interruption. It was more habit than need most days, though when I was feeling sluggish, it gave my powers a bit more pep and buzz.
Corbin obnoxiously took a larger-than-needed bite from the apple, resulting in a loud snap followed by even louder crunches as he chewed. Speaking through several more bites, he managed to grit out a few intelligible words.
“All I’m saying is that we had a plan.” Corbin swallowed. “Let’s stick to it. Chase little miss Hannah through the maze, you can get your underwhelming blowjob, she gets put out of her misery, and we call it a year.”
For fucks’ sake, I didn’t dream about this week all year long just to settle for some mediocre lay. Hannah may have been decent on the eyes, but she wasn’t a challenge. If there were any karma in the universe, she’d somehow get run over by the sheriff’s cruiser during the Pumpkin Parade.
Much like the risk of lightning in the field, a realization struck me. I stared at Corbin with narrowed eyes. “And you’d be satisfied with her?”
He paused mid-bite. Slowly lowering the apple, he swallowed what remained in his mouth before speaking with carefully chosen words. “Figured you could enjoy the spoils by yourself this year.”
This lying son of a bitch…
I grabbed the front of his black zip-up hoodie and jerked him forward so we were nose-to-nose.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I snarled through clenched teeth.
The sweet scent of ripe fruit tainted with nicotine on his breath wafted up through my nostrils as he responded. “Just not feeling the whole fuck-and/or-murder vibe this year. I’ll still steer the prey in your direction, but the trophy is all yours.”
My fists clutched onto the cotton of his hoodie so tightly I was surprised the threads hadn’t begun to tear. Looking into his amber eyes, something in them stared back into my denim-colored hues. Something that tasted an awful lot like softness—weakness.
Abruptly, I released him as I shoved him back. Hestumbled several steps before steadying himself. Corbin attempted to brush himself off and put up that infuriating wall of indifference once more, but it was too late.
My fingers ran through my burnt honey locks of hair, pulling on a handful of the shaggy cut as I got my bearings.
Blowing out a lungful of air, I dragged a hand over the front of my face in realization of what was going on here. Subconsciously, my fingertips lingered over the tattoos etched onto my skin. Each inked mark mimicked coarse stitches across my right cheek, above my left eyebrow and temple, and along the left curve of my stubbled jaw.
Clenching my molars together, I spoke in a tight voice. “It’sher, isn’t it?”
Silence. Damning silence.
Growling under my breath, I yanked my patchwork cap from my back pocket and tugged it down onto my head with practiced ease. I gave one final tug on the thin brim before turning away from him.
Stalking off, I tossed back over my shoulder at him, “Change of plans, Corb. New girl is this year’s runner.”
That caught his attention as he strode after me, but not before his half-eaten applewhooshedpast my head in a poorly aimed shot. Nevertheless, I didn’t slow my pace as I headed towards the center of town.
“Bale! Wait up!” he shouted from behind me before he finally caught up and grabbed my shoulder. “Let’s notget your straw twisted.”
I stopped and spun to face him, shrugging his hand off me.
“Don’t.” I snapped. “We’re in this together, it’salwaysbeen you and me, tied to this fucking town. Cursed to be here and see it go through the same damn shit year after year.”
My chest rose and fell rapidly, fully in line with my temper.
Corbin looked as exasperated as he ever could be, which wasn’t much. Asshole had the emotional range of a brick wall at times.
“I know that as well as you do, but I’m telling you that she’s it for me. There’s something about her that I can’t shake off and ignore. A godsdamn drug, addiction, vice—whatever you want to call it. But the two of us?” He gestured between our bodies. “Still in this for life, however long that is. The hunt won’t stop, and neither will we.”
With my arms crossed over my chest, my fingers drummed along my bicep. I considered the sincerity of his words.
“Suppose I believe you, what do you propose we do about the chase?” Because if he had a proposal, now would be the time to lay it out for me.
He smirked, and that was enough.
I leaned in, mirroring the mischief in his face. “Tell me what’s going on in that intelligent brain of yours.”
