Page 24 of Spades

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Brooke was a teleporter. She’d said so last night when we were sitting at the bar. She could’ve gone home last night, despite how long the drive was. But she’d chosen to stay.

I heard the race of her heart slow when we were lying there side by side. I smelled the dopamine and oxytocin permeating from her body. I saw the relaxation soften her stiff shoulders, glaze over her eyes, even in the upturn of her pretty red lips.

So why did she rush out this morning? Why was she so quick to leave?

Second thoughts? The morning after regret?

I wasn’t a stranger to that either, but then she stayed for coffee, and the talk we shared was nice. It was great, actually, just like it’d been last night. Talking to Brooke felt like talking to an old friend, and while we were doing it, it seemed like she felt the same way.

Then she left.

I didn’t understand her. I didn’t know enough about hertounderstand her. But I wanted that to change. No, I wasn’t going to harass her, but I wanted to figure her out. Most of me did, anyway.

The other half of me wanted to get her the fuck out of my head.

I’d known her a day, and I couldn’t get her face to stop flashing behind my eyelids.

A knock pounded at the door. I jumped.

Not my usual. Most of the time, I was aware of my surroundings. Wolf’s hearing made it hard not to be.

I headed for the door, breathing in deeply for a scent. But all that I smelled was the bucket of cleaner on my hands from the table I’d just scrubbed. Unlocking the door, I grasped the handle and swung it open.

But all that stared back at me was an empty parking lot.

I peered around, focusing for the smell of someone’s body, or the thud of someone’s heartbeat, but still only saw the empty parking lot. A few cars raced down the highway beyond the Spades sign, birds chirped in the treetops that framed the lot, but that was all.

My face screwed up in confusion.Am I losing my shit?

I took another step through the doorway, looked either direction, and—

Boom!

A punch through my chest.

Grasping the doorframe, I blinked hard.

I looked down.

Blood.

Not a slow ooze, but a rapid gush.

So much blood.

Stumbling backward, ears ringing so loud that everything else dulled to silence, black clouded my vision, and my head slammed against the cement.

Staring up at the wooden ceiling, blood gurgling from my lips, everything dulled.

Did I tell Mom I loved her before I hung up? I hoped I did.

Just before the darkness overtook my line of sight, auburn shined through the darkness.

Two blue eyes.

Two warm hands on my cheeks.

Then, nothing.


Tags: Charlie Nottingham Fantasy