The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)

by T.L. Swan

The pain never goes away, but some days it feels like it might just kill me. I’m an empty shell. My body functions as it should, but I’m barely breathing.

I’m suffocating in a world of responsibilities.

“He’s still with you. He will always be with you. Trust him to watch over you. You need to let him go, Claire.”

stare down at the white band left on my bare finger. The sun’s reminder of what I have lost. I hate my hand without his ring. I hate my life without his love.

He’s dead enough that I’m lonely . . . but alive enough that I can’t fathom moving on.

I’m stuck in the middle, halfway between heaven and hell. Madly in love with my husband’s ghost.

His eyes hold mine for a moment, and as if reading my mind and knowing exactly what I need in this moment, he says, “You fuck all right for an old duck.”

I look around at all the shoes. Does a fucking centipede live here or something?

I need to keep my wits about me in this house . . . the end is near.

I drag my hand down my face. “A kid beat me up with underpants.”

“Let me set the tone of the kind of people I’m dealing with here.” He frowns in question. “They have a cat called Muff,” I say. He stares at me flatly. “What kind of deranged, sick, fucked-up, twisted person calls a family pussy . . . Muff?”

I turn to Fletcher. “What are you going to do about this?” “Nothing. Why?” “Why aren’t you attacking him with underpants?” I snap, annoyed. “What good are you if you’re not going to be consistent?”

She rolls her eyes and goes to the stairs. “I hope Muff pees on your head.” She stomps up the stairs. My face falls as I process her words. “What?” I look around and catch sight of the mangy cat sitting on the couch. We lock eyes. “Is that a possibility?” I call. Silence. “Claire?” Silence. “I’m allergic to cats, Claire. I need to sleep with you,” I call. “In your bed.”

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. “What the hell?” I whisper as I glare at the clock on the wall. What kind of sick fuck has a clock that ticks this loud? No wonder everyone’s crazy around here. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

I glare at the self-righteous little shit in front of me. “I’ve got two words for you.” I hold up two fingers. “What are they?” I lean in real close. “Boarding. School.”

“Death by risotto or good sushi?” She shrugs. “Hmm, probably mediocre sushi from around the corner. Save my feet.” “Mediocre sushi is better than no sushi at all,” I reply. “This is true.” She disappears out the door, and I read my text.

He bends and kisses my clavicle and then one by one takes my nipples into his mouth through my bra.

“It’s okay, Tris,” I whisper. “I’ve only ever murdered two men in their sleep before. You’re completely safe.” He opens one eye. “The fact that that even crosses your mind to say is somewhat concerning, Claire.” I smile mischievously. “Shh, go to sleep, baby . . . nighty night.”