Amused with my panic, he cracks a strong smile, keeping his eyes on me while pivoting back to project his voice toward the kid. “Piranhas. Mean little things.”
The kid seems to be content with his answer and gets back to whatever he was doing, which is honestly a huge relief because I don’t know anything about those fish and I’m not sure Razor does either, and what if the little guy is, like, some sort of expert and called us out? Then what?
Sighing, I rub my face to hide from Razor’s gaze for a moment, fighting the urge to bite my nails while resting my arm back down. “Did you mean that?” I ask, using my eyes to gesture to the desk.
Knowing that I’m talking about the files, or at leastmyfile, he lifts up off the desk and nods, threatening me with a recurring ache by taking languid steps toward me. “Yes, Bunny. But I’m being so fucking serious when I say I need to know you can face something you don’t actually want to.”
“I can.” Wanting to avoid a thrum that becomes too desperate, I turn away from him, heading for the door, but the cold shiver of another presence is stopping me.
Instantly, I’m looking off to the corner. But it’s not the gray skin and milky eyes I was expecting. Instead, it’s a tiny red dot that’s bright enough to trigger an alarm under my skin. “Razor…”
Stepping closer to it, moving past the bookshelf, my head cocks, visually tracing the hole it’s watching from.
“Bunny…” he mocks me.
This time, he’s not teasing me. He’s matching my careful steps and figuring out what’s making my bushy tail come out.
Realizing it’s exactly what I think it is, I stop, rupturing at the seams with internalized distress. “Why is the kid from the arcade in here with you?”
“Really? Right now?”
“Yes, please answer me.”
With both of us staring at the little camera hidden in the corner of the wall, our voices are monotone, paranoia becoming prominent in the silence.
“He’s helping me on the computer.”
“Do you think this was here when you…”
“Mm-hmm. I’ve been feelin’ it. Just thought it was two eyes. Not one.”
Dread slithers like acid in my stomach, my temperature dropping and shooting back up. “Do you think it’s Carl’s?”
“Nah, he did too much sketchy shit in here.”
Remembering a memory buried into the depths of soil in my head, my eyes slash over to him, meeting the seriousness draining the color from his suntan. “Razor… Did you ever see anyone come into the house and remove cameras?”
His brows hang lower. “No… Why would you ask that?”
Becoming violently hot, chills tighten my skin, breathing in the density clogging the room. “How did Carl know when we woke up that day?”
Realization relaxes his expression, his eyes widening. “Go. Don’t stop. Just run home. Tell everyone to move everything and start searching the walls, vents, any spot a bug could hide.”
My heart stretches, expanding into a rampant thump. “What about you?”
Cupping my face, his fingers tensing into my hair, he bends down, placing a fervent kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be there after I finish this.”
Nothing’s wrong. Yeah, this is scary and concerning and super confusing, but there’s an evil thread in my brain that’s whipping my chest with robust emotion, like it’s trying to make me worry about never seeing him again.
Nodding, tears brim my waterlines, scanning the kid and Razor, trying to understand what they could be doing on the computer. But answers don’t come easy. I have too many questions stacked up to pick and choose which one I’d like to ask. I’ve kind of just learned to walk away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
BUNNY
Leaving the jingle of the gift shop, I kick off into a jog, adamant on getting to the trailer as fast as I can. It’s bothering me not knowing if we’ve been watched this entire time, or what rooms might be infected.
Cursing under my breath and targeting the rustykeep outsign on our gate in the trees, something hard rolls beneath my shoe. I try to ignore it, but natural curiosity for what I just squashed rams my body into a stop, my head swiveling back to inspect the pavement.
