Page 28 of Rattle the Cage

Except I hadn’t won. I’d lost.

And the rope marks across my back and legs were proof of it.

Nash shrugged. “It adds dimension⁠—”

“Who put the money in my account?” I blurted out, my teeth clenched together as I met Nash’s gray gaze.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to catch up with me. “Uh, Cyrus handles it. What—what’s wrong? Is it short?” Panicked, Nash wiped her hands on a dish towel. She looked just about ready to leap out the front door and hunt Cyrus down herself.

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s… everything’s fine. Sorry.”

The last thing I wanted to do was talk about it. Besides, if Nash and Blade didn’t handle the money, they wouldn’t have any answers for me anyway.

Clearing her throat, Nash nodded and went back to her dishes. “Okay.” Despite Blade agreeing to do the cleaning, Nash couldn’t help but keep her hands busy — too annoyed by the mess to let the grime sit around.

If Cyrus was holding a grudge against me, why the fuck was I allowed back inside Feverpoint’s gates? Why had the Freaks welcomed me back for a hunt?

And what the fuck was all that money doing in my account?

Pushing my plate away, I pushed my hair out of my face and tied half of it up above my head. “I’m going for a walk.”

Without waiting for an answer, I rose from my bar stool and moved toward the front door.

Butch leapt off of his window perch and sauntered with me to the exit. Looking up at me, he let out a sweet chirp of excitement — hoping that he’d get to tag along.

As I grabbed the metal door handle, Blade jogged across the apartment and threw on her shoes.

I was halfway down the steps by the time Nash and Blade were out the door.

Butch jaunted ahead of us and into the park. Following his lead, I wandered out into the early evening sun.

In the few weeks I’d been staying with Lola, I’d almost forgotten how fucked up my sleep schedule was from Fright Night.

Blinking in the light, I walked behind Butch as he led us toward Rapid Rush. I’d slept most of the day and the sun was already beginning its descent behind the mountains that towered over Valemont and Feverpoint.

Even in the few weeks I’d been away, it was clear that Fall had taken hold of the park. Crunchy leaves scattered across the ground, the few that could manage to evade Blade’s deft leaf blower.

The sun was setting earlier than it had when I first arrived at Feverpoint in August. And now, the golden light was even more brilliant, the yellowing leaves reflecting the sun’s warm glow.

Nash and Blade knew better than to walk next to me, instead leaving a few yards between us as they kept pace behind me.

But as I shoved my hands in the pockets of my sweats, I couldn’t help but miss the way we were. I hated keeping them at a distance, especially knowing that they felt bad.

Biting my lip, I knew I still felt guarded. I’d been back in Feverpoint for just under 24 hours. The pain that my Freaks had inflicted wouldn’t disappear over night. Even with an apology.

As we walked through Rapid Rush, taking our time meandering down the cobblestone paths where long grass broke through the rock, I watched Butch sprint off toward the wave pool.

It was still full, just with murky green water.

Probably good fishing for Butch.

Stopping in my tracks, I turned to look back at Nash and Blade. “What’s going on with The Messenger?”

I deserved an update. When I’d left the park, I’d trusted that the Freaks would continue to work on taking him down. But since then, Rubin’s following had only grown and so had the fervor of his acolytes.

Lola’s landlord and his adult son would have been more than enough to see that shift. But the situation at Velvet Paradise had hammered it home plenty.

After the way I’d been swarmed at the vigil, it was clear that my life was on the line too. Whatever Rubin had planned must have involved me, whether I liked it or not.