Page 31 of Relapse

Too fast probably.

But trauma bonding and recreational drug use apparently speedrun friendships in terrifyingly efficient ways.

Within an hour, I’m sprawled beside Mina beneath a massive canopy tent covered in fake vines and hanging lanterns while DJs shake the beach apart in the distance.

She hands me a drink the color of antifreeze.

I drink it without asking questions.

Wow.

Personal growth.

My mother would probably be horrified.

Somewhere beneath the bass, heat and chaos, something tightens quietly in my chest.

Because this—

This doesn’t feel random.

Not after Dagger and Noir.

Especially not after Brynne.

Meeting Mina feels like pulling on a loose thread and realizing the entire fucking sweater might unravel if I keep going.

And judging by the way the strange man near the fencing is still watching us from across the festival grounds—

Something tells me it already started.

Chapter eight

Chapter Five

Noir

SHIVER - JOHN SUMMIT

The controller clicks rapidly beneath my fingers while gunfire explodes through the apartment speakers loud enough to rattle the empty cans scattered across my coffee table.

“Fuck off—”

My character slides behind cover just before somebody nearly blows his head off onscreen, neon light flashing across the dark apartment while smoke curls lazily from the cigarette burning between my lips.

The city glows outside the windows.

Music from somewhere downtown pulses faintly through the open balcony door while some idiot online screams into his headset about hacking my account because I killed him twice in a row.

Relaxing evening overall.

My phone buzzes against the couch beside me right as I’m lining up a shot through the scope.

Dagger.

I swipe my thumb across the screen, hit speaker, then toss the phone down beside me without taking my eyes off the TV.

“You better be dying.”