Page 199 of Fighting Chance

“No way,” she whispers.

A cackle of laughter echoes throughout the room, followed by a squeaking sound that draws both our gazes to the corner of the room. There, we find a rocking chair moving on its own, occupied by an Annabelle doll.

“Kieran?”

“Yeah, sunshine?”

“Feel free to do that carrying thing again.”

Throwing Layla over my shoulder, something grabs the back of my neck at the same time I try and take off, the long nails scraping my skin under the mask. Layla screams as she pushes herself up.

“What is it?” I call out, running through the room and away from the hand with creepy nails as objects starts to fly around us.

“It’s a fucking moving Annabelle doll!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “Fucking run!”

“I got you, baby, I got it,” I heave while silently swearing to never fucking do a haunted house again. I knew they were interactive, but an Annabelle doll that has creepy-ass nails that grab your neck? How the hell did they pull this off?

I should tell Coach to set up a haunted house on the ice. That will get our asses moving.

The door to the room slams shut behind us, the wind almost making me trip. Quickly putting Layla down, I turn this way and that, seeing we’ve walked into a hallway with four doors.

“Lady’s pick.”

Layla snorts before whacking my chest. “You just want me to walk in first.”

“Yeah, to see your ass, not because I’m a gentleman.”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

“Which one?” I ask again. “And hurry before Annabelle comes after us.”

Layla bounces on the balls of her toes. “Ugh, I don’t know! Why am I choosing?”

That stumps me. “Fuck do I know, actually.” Stepping forward, I open a door, only to slam it shut immediately. “Hell to the fucking no!”

“Why, what was it? Was it horrible?”

I physically shudder. “Dark shower block.”

Layla mirrors my grimace. “Absolutely not.” She steps forward. “What about?—”

A high-pitched wail fills the hall. Layla lets out a scream and before I can truly think about what I’m doing, I wrap my hand around hers and pull her through the second door, slamming it shut behind us.

“I’ve been waiting for a sacrifice.”

“Kieran,” Layla whispers, terror in her voice.

“I shouldn’t have picked this room, should I?”

“No.”

Turning, around I find I’ve dragged Layla into a padded white room with words, numbers and symbols drawn in what looks like fake blood as a woman with oily black hair, blood smeared along her teeth as she smiles at us sits in the corner, rocking back and forth in a straightjacket.

I don’t even get a chance to pick her up before Layla takes off to the left. Following her lead, we run through another door and into a fake doctor’s office. Multiple doctors lift their heads from a surgery they’re performing.

“Doctor, these are our next patients?—”

Layla and I don’t stop running and she doesn’t stop screaming but somewhere along the way, I start laughing, really laughing. Even though I’m terrified, this is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life—running in a Ghostface mask and cackling like a maniac as the woman I’m in love with runs beside me, screaming.