Page 224 of Chaos Kills

However, watching him have a mini-freakout while I sit here and do nothing is hard. I saw him on the ground by the pool. I saw the frantic terror in his eyes when Vivian was around not even touching him.

And that’s what he’s trying to do with me.

I think.

Make him do it.

Bay, hasn’t he done enough? He brought back Ellie and Mae.

“Stop,” I clip out before he suddenly grows still, his lips but a shuddering breath brushing shakily along my lips and chin. “Hand.”

I slowly raise mine, and Ozzy falls back a little, glancing down at my spread fingers as I do my best to calm down.

This is the most fucking intense thing I think I’ve gone through next to almost drowning with Torin. Everything about Ozzy is profoundly unhinged.

He’s not normal.

He’s shattered and broken. He hasn’t had an ordinary life, and he’s been betrayed.

By a woman, no less.

One I hate.

“One second,” I murmur. “Please…”

Sluggishly, Ozzy raises his palm and extends his fingers. He begins to hyperventilate a bit, causing my body to mimic his actions.

We’re not fucking, but if you didn’t know what we were doing, it would sound like we are.

Ozzy quickly presses his hand to mine, and while it’s there, it’s gone just as quickly.

And, if I thought I was confused before.

I’m fucked now.

FIFTY

bay

“It should be doneby next week,” Travis tells me, slamming away at the keyboard of his laptop. “What colors did you want?”

“For what?”

“The app.”

“Oh, black and white is fine, classic.” I don’t want him spending too much time on it. With my back to his bicep and my feet kicked up on my couch, I’m too intoGrace and Frankieon Netflix to try to understand what the hell he’s even doing with the logistics of it. All I know is I came up with an idea to make us more money, and Travis took care of the rest. “Will we be able to turn on the app at any given time and turn it off?”

“Yes, and there’ll be a key-in code. Four digits for you to be able to log in and flip on if you run into a possible race on the street. People will receive the notification of a new event and have less than five minutes to place their bets.”

“We need a stupid name for it. That way, if someone loses their phone, no one will think to click on it.”

“Even if they did, it won’t open anything. There will be an error message.”

I smile at the TV screen. “Awesome.”

The concept is easy. Travis is making an app where folks can place bets on any race, and we make money. There’s a two hundred dollar buy-in fee—we’re not in a bougie area here—and wherever there’s a race, you get a notification. You have five minutes to put a bet in, and it’s all random.

“How’re Mae and Ellie?”

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