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“I didn’t ask for your help!” She threw her hands up, the car swerving as we approached the tall park gates.
“Wow.” I sat back, arms folding over my chest.
“Oh my god, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Of course you didn’t.” I was done talking. I kept my gaze trained out the window, desperately blinking back the tears threatening to well in my eyes.
As soon as we were through the gates, she threw the car into park and scrubbed her face with a rough palm. “Could you cut me any slack? I know that sounded bad.”
“It didn’t just sound bad,” I snarled. But she wasn’t worth the energy. “Thanks for the ride, asshole.”
Before she could lock the door, I flung it open and stormed out of the car. I’d hardly made it ten feet though before her own door slammed. Her footsteps were fast and heavy as she marched after me. “Tess, don’t be unreasonable.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I didn’t spare her a glance, but there was no denying that my heart raced a bit faster with each step she took. My body was gearing up for the potential of a chase.
But I didn’t get the chance to run off: before I could identify a winning route, both of our phones pinged with a text. The group chat.
Shooting Cyrus a warning glare, I whipped out my phone to check the notification. But the text from Nash stopped me in my tracks.
SOS. Safehouse. Get here ASAP.
Nash
My blood ran cold, but Cyrus’s gaze was steady as she met mine. “Come on. I know a shortcut.”
39
TESS
As Cyrus bolted down the cobblestone path toward Old Frontier, I tried my best to keep up.
It was a wonder how I’d managed to outrun her even once. Like a horse, Cyrus pumped her legs and arms in sync, hurtling her body forward as her lungs took controlled and steady breaths.
Even carrying all of her muscle around, Cyrus was fucking fast.
Pushing myself harder, I kept pace.
In my chest, my lungs burned. But there was no telling how much of it was anxiety and how much was exhaustion.
What kind of emergency would send us out to Old Frontier in the middle of the day?
Fear pulsed through me, that something bad had happened to Blade or Nash. The thought alone made my eyes well up. The cool wind didn’t help quell potential tears.
Turning into the sepia-drenched Western town where cobblestones paths led to dusty saloons and gold mines, Cyrus bee-lined for the dusty Saloon at the back of the fake town.
We ran past the Sheriff’s office, the place I’d first met the Freaks. It felt so long ago now, so much had changed. Even our meeting was actually a reunion. And none of us had known it then.
Cyrus used her shoulder to bust open the swinging saloon doors, barreling through the musty fake bar and taking the steps up to a mezzanine two at a time.
Just behind her, dust flew up from the time-frozen scene as we careened up the stairs.
At the top landing, Cyrus input a code into a high-tech keypad on a massive metal door.
I steadied my breath and strained my ears. I needed to hear Nash and Blade — needed some sign that everything was okay. “Nash! Blade! Are you in there?”
“Sound proof. Won’t hear you.” Cyrus growled as the code beeped and the lock unlatched.
Shoving the door open, Cyrus stormed inside. “Living room, clear.”