Page 33 of Twisted Shot
He tries to respond, something dry or smooth, but the words stick in his throat.
He feels it happen the way a storm builds—quietly, at first. Just a hitch in his breath, a slight catch in his throat.
“I—” he starts. “I d-didn’t think y-you?—”
God.
No.
His chest tightens. The words catch on his tongue, and suddenly he’s seven years old again, in a classroom where eyes turned fast and sharp the minute he stumbled over a word.
Theo’s skin flushes hot. His jaw locks. He’s trained his voice like he’s trained the rest of his body—disciplined, always under control.
Except now.
With her.
“I—I’ve gotta—uh—I just need t-to—” He gesturesvaguely toward the kitchen. Or maybe the hallway. It doesn’t matter. Anywhere but here.
Mila takes a step toward him. “Theo, it’s okay?—”
But he’s already moving. Head down. Shoulders slumped. He ducks into the hallway and disappears into the darkness of the back staircase, heart pounding, jaw clenched.
Behind him, Mila watches him go, glass still in hand, expression pinched.
It’s not okay. Nothing is okay.
She looks disappointed.
And that, somehow, is worse than anything else.
CHAPTER 12
MILA
Mila sips slowly from her glass, rolling the stem between her gloved fingers, her back to the wall as she surveys the chaos unfolding in Theo and Jesse’s too-big-for-two-people house.
Someone is howling in the kitchen—actual howling, like wolf-man level—and Jesse, in his rapidly unraveling Mario costume, is crowd-surfing on a mattress that Pavel and Tall are carrying down the hallway like a parade float. The music has shifted again, something bass-heavy, and a group of rookies are trying to out-twerk each other in the living room like their contracts depend on it.
Natalie leans against the wall beside her, sipping from a Solo cup. “We’re either too old for this, or too sober.”
Jake snorts behind his reaper mask. “Speak for yourselves. I peaked in 2015.”
Mila forces a small laugh, but her heart’s not in it. Her eyes drift across the room again, even though she already knows—Theo’s not there. He hasn’t come back.
“You okay?” Natalie asks, tilting her head. Her glittery flapper headband is slipping sideways, giving her a tipsy, detective-y vibe.
“Yeah,”Mila lies. Then adds, “No.”
Jake peels off his mask and wipes his forehead. “Is it Richard? If he shows up, I’ll bury him in the yard. We’ll make it look like a Halloween decoration.”
Mila smiles faintly. “Tempting, but no. It’s...Theo.”
“Well, I can’t bury Theo. He’s my best D-man.”
Natalie elbows Jake, giving him a look. “What about him?”
“He was talking to me. And then he bailed. Mid-sentence. Said he had to go, and disappeared.”
