Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Wrath stares at her. “What. The. Fuck?”
I turn my palms up and spread them wide.
“No fucking way!” Ravage explodes. “Of all the things that never happened, that never happened the most.”
“No.” Lilly sits up, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. “Kikimoras aren’t something you want to mess around with. If that’s what it was, you’re lucky she wasn’t more destructive, Margot.”
Lilly grins and winks at me, clearly enjoying the chance to give my story credibility.
“Maybe she was confused because she was in a home with a lot of spirits moving in and out?” Swan suggests.
Ravage stares at Lilly, then Swan, like they’ve lost their minds. Then he shakes his head. “All right, enough of that. Who else has a story?” He stands and glances around the circle.
“Wait.” Rock holds up one hand. “If this is true. Where is the doll now?”
Jigsaw glances at me. “Please don’t tell me it’s in your house somewhere?”
I bite my lip to stop from laughing. “Well, I wasn’t going to bother burning it again. Burying it seemed out of the question.” I pause, wanting to make sure this next part sounds authentic. “So, I called someone I knew from school who collects haunted objects. He has stuff from all over the world that he tries to authenticate. I called him and he picked up the doll. She lives in a sealed glass box now. He keeps a wreath of dried flowers around her and that seems to have stopped the mischief.”
“Road trip!” Sparky yells. “I want to go see this haunted objects museum.”
“Not that I want to discourage you from taking a road trip.” Dex stares at his friend like he’s lost his mind. “But do you want to risk having that kind of negative energy attaching itself to you?”
“You might have a point, brother.” Sparky thrusts his hands in front of his face, slowly turning them over to examine his fingers as if he’s already forgotten about his road trip.
“No one’s going to top that.” Stash stands and claps his hands with more sincerity than Ravage. “Nice job, Margot.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve got one.” A tall, thickly built man steps forward, his features obscured by the flickering glow of the firelight. The flames cast fleeting highlights over his full head of wavy hair, the exact shade elusive in the shifting shadows. The cut of his square jawline and high cheekbones becomes clearer as he approaches us. Somehow, he’s both handsome and rough at the same time.
“That’s Birch,” Jigsaw whispers to me. “He hasn’t been a full-patch upstate for that long.”
“Ah, okay.” I work that out in my head. “So, the guys still probably rag on him extra hard?”
His lips quirk. “Something like that.”
Birch ambles up to our log. Jigsaw slides off, then helps me off the log. He waves his hand toward the seat in an “all yours” gesture.
“I’m not sure I can top yours.” Birch nods at me. “It’s a little more light-hearted.”
“Light is good,” I assure him.
Jigsaw rests his hand on my lower back and guides me back to our blanket.
Rock, Hope, Z, and Lilly all either smile or nod at me as we pass them. Rooster and Shelby have returned to their blanket next to us. Shelby grins at me as I drop onto the soft flannel.
“That was a good one.” She tilts her head. “Was it true?”
I press my hand to my chest and bat my lashes. “Of course it was.”
She grins even wider.
“Let’s go!” Rav claps his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. He points to Birch. “This better be good, bro.”
Birch shrugs. “Let’s find out.”
“No random creepy dolls either,” Ravage warns.
“Are you going to heckle him or let him speak?” Rock asks.
Rav slaps his hand over his mouth and widens his eyes to a cartoonish size.
Chuckling, Birch shoves his hands in his pockets and leans against the log. “This happened my sophomore year of high school. I was fifteen or sixteen. The year we had that big blizzard up and down the East Coast.”
“There’s been more than one,” a heavyset guy who’d been quiet most of the night says.
“That’s our treasurer downstate—Hustler,” Jigsaw whispers to me. “He’s a stickler for details.”
“Good quality for the treasurer.” All of his reminders and prompts to help me keep track of everyone melt my heart. I tip my head and brush my forehead against his soft, cotton shirt. “Thanks.”
Ignoring the interruption, Birch continues. “It was early morning. Before school. I put on my snow-shoveling pants.” He bends and rubs his hands over his thighs, down to his knees. “They had this warm, fleece lining that made it almost tolerable to be out in the cold for so long.”
“Nice. I love those,” Teller says.
Birch ducks his head and lets out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, I did too. So, it was dark-ish when I started but as the sun started coming up, the neighborhood got busier. Lots of folks up early to make it to work on time. Driving slow through the barely plowed street. And I’m out there clearing the driveway for my mom.” He touches his chest and curls his lips into a neighborly grin. “I know most of the neighbors and stop to wave as everyone passes by.”