Page 107 of Tag

Cloe launched into a full-blown legal rant. Roxxi said we needed to carryfuck around and find outbags at all times. Ari suggested we do something drastic to make our Huntsmen second-guess who they were messing with.

And that was another problem entirely.

We didn’t have the first clue about who any of the Huntsmen were or how many had placed their wagers on us. The one who sent that text could have been anyone inside the diner or lingering outside.

When the washer began to play its tune for a completed cycle, I grabbed my hydrobottle to refill and remembered there were still toaster strudels in the freezer. Small comforts. I filled the bottle with ice and water, the sharp clink of cubes echoing through the kitchen. After popping two strawberry strudels into the toaster, I took a long sip as I headed downstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath my fuzzy socks.

Our basement wasn’t as nice as the rest of the house, but it was finished, clean, and organized despite the fact that no matter how many times we mopped or swapped outFebrezeplug-ins, it had a faintly damp, unmistakable basement-y smell that mingled with the synthetic sweetness ofMidnight Linen. There was not much down there except a few boxes of seasonal decorations and some of Roxxi’s biker gear.

The bright red front-loaders along the far wall stood out like they were trying to be cheerful. I knelt in front of the washer and opened the door. Steam drifted out as I started transferring the damp clothes into the dryer beside it, the soft thump of wet fabric hitting metal forming a quiet rhythm. A light thud followed by a creak from above me had my hand stilling.

My gaze lifted to the ceiling.

Every nerve in my body went tight. I slowly stood, letting the last shirt drop into the dryer, and shut the door gently, trying not to make noise. For a moment, I considered the possibility that it might be Ryder. He had a habit of showing up without warning, but it was Thursday, and Ryder always hit the gym with the guys after his team walkthroughs. I turned toward the stairs, and the music from the TV abruptly stopped. One second it was there, faint but steady, the next, silence.

I knew without a doubt someone was inside the house.

There was no way someone had broken in, though, right?

Unless…

I thought back to the window in my bathroom. It was on the second floor, still taped up. The climb wouldn’t be difficult for someone who knew what they were doing. Ryder and I had scaled worse during our late-night escapes. I patted my hoodie pocket and then scanned the top of the washer and dryer for my phone.

“Goddamnit,” I swore under my breath, realization crashing down. I’d left it in the living room, plugged in to charge. What was wrong with me? I needed a class calledDumb Bitch Economicsbecause clearly, making good choices was not my strong suit. I stood there, trying to convince myself I was imagining things, until footsteps crossed above me.

It couldn’t be one of the girls. If they were home, they’d have called out like they always did. My mind raced, adrenaline slamming through me like a current. There was nowhere to hide in this fucking basement. No closets. No deep corners. Two windows: one specifically for a dryer vent and the other sealed from the outside.

I looked around, searching for anything I could use as a weapon. My eyes eventually landed on my Hydrobottle. It was better than nothing. I grabbed it, my knuckles whitening as I held its handle as if it were a bat. Whoever was upstairs now stood between me and the only way out. Slowly, I crept toward the staircase, every footstep silent against the cool floor. The urge to curl up, stay quiet, and hope whoever it was would leave pressed down on me, but I couldn’t stay down there forever.

You can do this.I tried to hype myself up, steadying the trembling that had spread to my fingers. I gripped the Hydrobottle so tightly I could feel the cold metal biting into mypalm. As I took another careful step, the floorboard beneath me gave a loud creak. My pulse skyrocketed, eyes going wide.

Shit.

I froze, every muscle locking up. Part of me screamed to run back down the stairs, but I wasn’t a total idiot. That would trap me. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe.Come on, Sanjana. You’ve got this.I took another step, then another, edging upward, my grip tightening. The basement door opened straight into the kitchen, and to the right was the entrance to the garage. If I could make it without being seen, I could slip out through there.

Roxxi’s motorcycle was inside, and the keys were probably still in it. Theoretically, I could take it and go. Realistically, I’d wind up as a Sanjana-shaped skid mark two blocks over. I had no business trying to ride a motorcycle. I would be better off running, praying my Huntsman wasn’t as fast as I was. I reached the doorway at the top of the steps, and when I didn’t see anyone, I wasted no time. I hurried toward the garage.

“What are you doing?”

I spun so fast my hair whipped across my face, a scream tearing out of me before I could stop it, loud enough to set the neighbor’s dog into a frenzy. My Hydrobottle sailed through the air, hitting the floor with a metallic crash. A palm clamped over my mouth, and I was propelled backward into the wall.

“Sassy.”

His voice overpowered all my fear. Relief hit me like a flood. My whole body sagged against him, knees untrustworthy, breath gone.

“It’s me,” he soothed, steady and calm, brushing my hair out of the way. “Just me.”

I nodded quickly, my heart still sprinting. He slowly let his hand fall from my mouth, but the other arm didn’t move. Hekept me pinned, like he wasn’t willing to risk me slipping away now that he had me.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” I hissed, fear morphing into anger.

“Ari said you were home doing schoolwork, and I needed to check on you.”

“So you break in?” I snapped, shoving at his chest, and growing more annoyed when he didn’t budge.

An infuriating smirk curled his lips, completely unrepentant. “Didn’t break in. I have a key. Remember?”

Of course, I remembered. That was beside the point. I shut my eyes for a beat, trying to get a grip. My pulse was still hammering, adrenaline fizzing just beneath my skin. His fingers brushed my cheek, featherlight, moving aside more of my hair.

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