Sleet Sugar by S.J. Tilly
CHAPTER THIRTY
IZZY
The only upside of this place is that it’s busy. Because of that, we’ve been standing in line for the past 20 minutes. And if we stay in this line the rest of the night, I’ll be happy.
I’m still new to this whole making friends thing, so I’ve stayed mostly quiet. The women Zach introduced us to are the wives of his college friends, and they’ve been talking to Katelyn and Meghan about wedding planning. With Katelyn as an engaged person, and Meghan being an event planner, I suppose the conversation was inevitable. Normally I’d be happy to discuss this topic to death, but my fight-or-flight switch has been turned to ON, which doesn’t leave much room for small talk.
The guys are in their own conversation. I don’t think any of Zach’s friends went pro; I would’ve recognized them. But since three of them are Sleet players, I’m assuming that they’re talking hockey. Another topic I would normally be all over, but not tonight. No, tonight is about avoiding cardiac arrest and not peeing my pants. If I can check both those boxes when I get home, then I’ll consider my night successful.
Though it’s hardly enough to distract me from my increased stress levels, Zach looks delicious as ever tonight. His jeans are worn, fitting his ass perfectly. He’s wearing heavy, black combat boots, and a dark grey hooded sweatshirt. This is the most casual I’ve ever seen him, aside from when he was entirely naked, and it’s a great look on him.
All of the Sleet guys are dressed plainly, their version of incognito.
“How many in your group?”
The new voice draws my attention.
Oh no, we are at the front of the line.
I hear Jackson talking to the scary lady who’s controlling the entrance. But I can’t understand what they’re saying, it’s all just a buzz in my ear.
The group starts to shuffle around me. The couples are pairing up. I grab Meghan’s arm and hold on tight enough to make her yelp.
We start moving forward, and I do my best not to hyperventilate.
It’s fine. It’s fake. I’ll be fine. They can’t actually murder me in there.
Somehow we’ve switched, and now Meghan is the one holding my arm. And before I can protest further, she’s pulling me through the door.
The air is thick with fake fog in here, and there are blinking red Christmas lights along one wall.
For fuck’s sake, we are starting in the Haunted Santa Shop?! How did I miss that!
I’m about to say something snarky, when a loud boom sounds just behind me.
I scream.
Meghan lets go of my arm.
The lights turn out.
I hear Meghan’s footsteps as she runs away from me.
What the… !!!
I open my mouth to yell for Meghan when large hands land on my shoulders.
I scream again.
“Sugar, it’s me.” I can hear the smile in Zach’s voice, and I don’t know if I want to hug him or deck him.
The lights flicker back on and Zach moves ahead of me. “Come on.”
Well, it’s follow him, or turn and run back out the front door looking like a complete baby. Pulling up my big girl undies, I follow.
We duck under some paper snowflakes, covered in what I hope is fake mold, and enter a room that’s been set up to look like Santa’s workshop. Only instead of toys, there are human body parts sewn onto dolls, and bloody tools hanging from the ceiling. And there are mannequins that look like evil elves, wielding hammers and saws.
“Oh my…” That’s how far I get before one of the mannequins move.
And by move, I mean it starts to sprint towards me.
The scream I release is the loudest one yet. Rushing forward, I grab handfuls of Zach’s sweatshirt and bury my face in his back. The asshole is laughing again, and if I wasn’t planning to use him as a man-shield for the rest of this horror house, then I’d leave him for dead with this killer elf.
I didn’t think it was possible for any place to be worse than the elf room. I was wrong.
