Back at the sanctuary, the sunset lowered over the pasture, painting the world a warm shade of red-orange. With Maggie close behind me, I unlatched the gate from its hinge.
“And these,” I whispered, “are the hellblazers.” She followed me into the enclosure. After our day in the town, Laken needed to meet with someone about a job, so the evening roundup fell to me. And what better time for a guided sanctuary tour? We were on our last stop; Maggie closed the door behind us. “These guys are sensitive, and you have to watch out for them because—”
A slow, eeriebocksounded from the coop, and I froze. It always started with one. One lone chicken saying, “Why don’t we roast this bitch?” As expected, others followed,saying, “Yeah, that does sound like a good idea.” That’s how they sounded in my head, at least.
I’d lost my mind.
But not my reflexes. As Laken had instructed the other day when teaching, I grabbed Maggie’s arm and hid her behind a pillar. Meanwhile, diving left with haste, my fingers wrapped tight around the lip of the tin lid to their bucket and threw up a shield. Blocking us both from the flames, I recovered my place in our conversation. “You have to watch out for them because they’re assholes. And they still prefer Laken to me.”
Quickly dumping their food out and slithering through the door, I slid my shoes off and plopped myself on the grass. As night approached, the ground chilled and cooled my skin. Leaning back on my hands and watching the sky shift colors, I awaited my company to join me in what they refer to as “earthing”—and I’d definitely recommend it. My heart found its normal rate, my panting came to a stop, and my revenge chicken ideas even faded from my mind.
With perfect timing, Maggie plopped.
“Well, that’s it. The entire tour from Blaze to hellblazers.” Minus Indo, unfortunately.
“It sure is… something.” She too looked over the pasture. “And this is you…afterlessons on how to take care of the animals?”
My head whipped; my brows scrunched. “Yes, and I have it all under control…” A long silence drifted; she knew thatwasn’t true. I knew it wasn’t true. Hell, the creatures knew. “When Laken’s here,” I added. “I have a lot to learn, okay?”
Pulling my glare and attention off my friend so I couldn’t see her reaction, my shoulders sagged. This was me trying, and surprisingly, tonight’s roundup went better than usual. There shouldn’t have been a gaping hole in my chest, yet one formed anyway. It wasn’t a need to impress Maggie, but more of a need to know Icoulddo this. I wanted her to see that, too.
“You do seem to enjoy it, though.” Maggie’s voice was gentle and cautious. “It might be hard now, but if I recall, you’d already given up making bouquets thrice over in the same amount of time you’ve been here.” The slightest hint of a chuckle lightened what she was really saying. That she saw it, too. That I had something here that I didn’t at Dirty Hoes.
Hanging my head down inches above the grass, I sighed—or maybe screamed a little—and decided, “I need a drink.”
The ruckus of screaming coming from the tavern felt louder than usual, as it tended to be this late in the evening. The light from the windows appeared dimmer, meaning a packed crowd. I pulled the door handle, and everything erupted into the streets of Honey Brooke. The welcoming scent of ale andsmoke piled out as if smothered inside, nearly knocking me back a step—and just in time.
Two large men came barreling out, fighting and yelling. I held an arm out to keep Maggie back, letting their bodies collapse into the dirt, and walked inside.
“What did you say the name of this place was?” Maggie slipped in behind me, but when I expected to find her repulsed, I turned out to be the confused one. Her eyes grew bright with a magic more beautiful than either of ours. The magic of discovery, I supposed.
“Rabbit’s Foot.” I raised my voice in order for her to hear me over the crowd.
“Lovely!” Her nose scrunched, and I wondered if Maggie really loved the world so much, or if she’d been locked inside a tower her whole life.
To our luck, as we made our way through the drunk belly of the beast, two women got up from the bar and left two open seats. Swiftly, we snagged the chairs before anyone even noticed they were open.
“Reece,” my favorite person beckoned. A red bandanna with gray hairs peeking out made its way to us. Goldie’s ember eyes studied my friend and then she snapped her fingers. “This must be Maggie! Dirty Hoes Flower Co. owner and best friend to Reece here!”
Mags lit up. “The bartender knows my name!” She faced me, slapping her hands down on the counter. “Does this make me small-town famous?”
Goldie entertained Maggie’s fascination for a momentbefore taking orders, bringing me my usual. I liked going places where I had a usual; it made me feel seen, unlike in Old Ashton. I pointed around to where the dartboard hung, showed her where the bathrooms were, the dancing spot on the floor, and—my personal favorite to watch—the drunk singing table.
“So,” Maggie yelled louder than she needed to, but I didn’t tell her. “What are you going to do about Laken?” I should’ve told her.Oh, no, she wasn’t going there.“What exactly is going on between you two?”
She went there.
I could’ve lied. I should’ve. However, what I saw staring back at me was a friend who deserved honesty—no matter how bad I didn’t want to give it. Her soft, big brown eyes. Her little ringlets flowing about with shattered rays of light bursting through.Damn Maggie, epitome of sunshine.“I don’t know,” I surrendered.
“What do you mean?”
I wanted to wither away. “Nothing? Everything?” I regretted speaking. “There’s really nothing more to it.”
She breathed out a sorry laugh. “Oh, there is definitely more to it.”
I scowled.
“Do you… like him? Would you ever—”
