Page 43 of Stay Scared

I look over my shoulder. Gray eyes watch me through the damaged openings.

“You gave me a straight shot.”

“You still had to earn it.”

“You slowed.”

“You sound offended.”

His fingers remain hooked beneath the denim.

I catch his wrist and turn under his arm. His glove drags across my hip before his hand slides from my waistband to the torn shoulder of my jacket, bringing us face-to-face with the buckles across his vest pressed against me.

“You wanted me this close,” he says.

“I wanted to know what you’d do once you got here.”

His grip shifts into the damaged fabric. “What did you learn?”

“That you talk too much.”

I wrench away. The jacket tears beneath his hand, leaving a strip of fabric caught in his glove while I twist free and climb over the next rail.

“You cheated,” he calls.

“You built the course.”

“You wanted me to catch you.”

“You failed to keep me.”

His head lifts.

He follows more slowly now. “You’re waiting for me to catch you.”

“I’m waiting to see what you do if I stop.”

“That’s not the same damn thing.”

“I’m aware of that.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, and I use it.

The tunnel swallows me.

Dark ride cars sit abandoned along the track, their painted fronts shaped like open coffins meant for two riders pressed together. A strip of red floor lighting marks the maintenance path beside them.

I choose the track.

Steel shifts beneath my boots as I step between rotted ties.

Cade enters beneath the arch and stops beside the first coffin car, watching me climb over the second.

“You’re running out of places to go.”

“I only need somewhere you cannot reach.”

“You used to say that during arguments.”