Page 60 of Royal Havoc

He moves, erasing every bit of space between us. “You’re going with me,” he orders.

Manic laughter erupts from me. “Fuck you, I’m going where I want. Which isn’t with you.”

“I’m taking her home,” Zoey rushes, interjecting herself into our conversation.

His eyes snap to her. “Don’t fuck around, Zoe.”

“Screw you, you don’t get —”

She slaps a hand over my mouth. “Straight home,” she assures him before dragging me down the hall.

thirty-two

Fool Me Once, Ghost Me Twice

Onyx: 2024

After I climbed into Zoey's SUV, my brain shut down as my eyes closed.

Now that they’re open after a solid three hours of sleep, I feel drunk. I should definitely not be worrying about the six missed calls and texts from Hendrix. I’m not even sure how his number got put into my phone.

Hendrix: If you’re not here by 6:15, I’m coming to you.

Trying to rub my sticky eyes awake before focusing on the small screen.

Me: On my way

My finger has just tapped the send button when someone knocks, causing me to roll awkwardly from the sofa.

Distraughtly staggering to the door. “What are you doing here?” I gasp, wide-eyed, struggling to rationalize the moment in my sleepy brain.

“Bringing dinner to you,” Hendrix answers, showing me the two boxes in his hands, studying me as I block the doorway. “Are you drunk?” he asks when I finally move, letting him in.

“Hungover,” I mumble over my shoulder, leaving him to splash water on my face.

The tension fills the atmosphere in the small cottage to the point I wonder if the roof’s strong enough to hold it all in. It’s like we’re two enemies, holding grenades, waiting to see which one will detonate first.

I find him sitting at the small table in the kitchen. “By all means, help yourself,” I call, noticing he’s rummaged through the kitchen to find plates and drinks.

“I assume you still like pizza,” he retorts, ignoring my annoyance, pointing to one of the two boxes on the counter.

Pizza is my total weakness.

“It’s okay.” I shrug, grabbing the plate he’s set out for me. “I can’t believeyoueat pizza,” I taunt, getting a couple of slices before falling back into the chair across from him.

“You might be surprised if you actuallytriedto get to know me,” he counters before standing to make his plate.

“You’re the one that disappeared —”

“And you’re the one that refuses to let it go,” he argues, sitting across from me.

He grabs a piece of his pizza, staring me down as he takes a bite. Falling against the back of my chair, rattled by this greasy-fingered version of him I’m seeing.

“Why the hell would I ever let that go?” I question, my voice almost unrecognizable to my own ears.

He sets down the slice, wipes his hands, and motions for me to eat as he finishes chewing. Once I’ve taken a bite. “Because you never asked why,” he finally answers, leaning back, drumming his fingers on the table nervously.

I start to choke on the bite I’m chewing. “Right, because it was that simple. How do you talk to a ghost? I guess I missed that day of school. Why?” I rasp, rushing to take a drink to clear my airway.

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