Page 27 of All's Fair in Love & Vegas

It’snot thatIdon’t feel anything forTy.Ifit wasn’t for, well,everything, maybe we’d be more.Butmy entire life is here inSanAntonio, soIdon’t know what’s worse: starting something withTyand then coming back home for good, or being stuck between a baby vampire and a minion of the devil vying for my attention.

Huffingto myself asIget dressed,Iroll my eyes.Obviously, getting fucking eaten by my ex-boyfriend and making a deal with the devil is so much worse.

Thethought crosses my mind asIhead down the hall and cross the living room untilIstop, turning to face the front door.CheatingonZakwasthe biggest mistake of my life—now, it’s leavingAtlantaand deluding myself into thinkingIcould have a second chance inSanAntonio.

MaybeIshould just go back.DowhatTysaid and do the long-distance thing with the band.

“Hey,”Momsays as she grabs her purse. “Mindgoin’ down toHernandezfor tacos?Gonnaskip lunch—makin’ a big dinner tonight forRobbieandBrandycomin’ over.”

Shedoesn’t wait for an answer as she stuffs a twenty-dollar bill in my hand and rattles off her andDad’sorder likeIdon’t have it burned in my memory after having heard it hundreds of times.Butthe problem isn’t my memory.

No, it’s thatIremember what happened on the approach all too well—the very thingIhave to pass on the way to the taqueria.

Mymouth runs dry asIgrab my keys and purse at the door.

Mypalms are sweaty asIdrop inside my oven on wheels and start heading down the driveway.Myheart races, pummeling against my chest asIcome to the stop sign whereIneed to turn left and cross the bridge to get to the taqueria.

Ican’t even bring myself to look down that way.

IfIgo left,Ipass the place whereIlost my life.IfIgo right,Ipass by theRamosestate.

I’mstuck in hell.

Atlantawouldn’t be like this at all.

Glancingto the left again, a dark spot catches my attention.Iblink twice, refocus, and have to squint when things are still kind of muddy.

No, there’s a dark figure standing there, alright.

Iblink again.

Aman, dressed all in black despite this unbearable heat, stands on the left side of the road, right at the curve leading to the approach.

He’sjust standing there.Watching.

Despitethe heat, a wave of coldness crashes through me with an iceberg sinking low in my gullet.

Blinkingonce more, allIsee are shadows playing between the dead huisache trees.

“Tacos,”Imurmur to myself, flipping my blinker to turn right, reassuring myself that going the long way to get tacos and treating myself to a fancy coffee on the way won’t be the death of me.

Ifight the urge to slam the pedal to the metal asIapproach the twins’ place.

Zakis at the fence, at the other end this time, withAdrianabout twenty feet down the line.Bothof them are shirtless, tattooed skin glistening in the sun, muscles moving and twitching as they string up new barbed wire.

Zakpauses and stares asIdrive past.Hisgloved hand raises.

Thelump in my throat only grows asIturn to face the road ahead.

Myvoice shakes whenIorder coffee.

Itry taking a sip asIdrive away, but my hand shakes around the chilled cup.Iset it down and pull into a random parking lot before shoving my face into my hands and forcing myself to take deep, measured breaths.

Howthe fuck amIsupposed to go on like it’s a normal day when absolutely nothing is fucking fine?

Chapter11

“In the Company of Worms”

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