Don’t do it, Tinksley. Turn around, says the angel on my shoulder, a voice I’d forgotten existed amidst the demands of depravity.
Do I listen? Of course not.
I have to know what’s happening. I’m too intrigued not to.
An intrigue that continues amounting as I pass this hand-carved archway with thick spiraled pillars. The pillars themselves aren’t what draws me—it’s the marionette puppets hanging off each one. They’re both female; one blonde, one brunette, both surprisingly quite scantily clad unlike a typical puppet.
I’ve never seen one like this before.
Reaching out to graze the tips of my fingers over one of their wooden bodies, I—
“Boo!” a husky voice ghosts in my ear.
My heart shoots up to my throat as a terrified scream breaks free. Next thing I know, I’m spun around, staring into amused blue eyes.
I literally feel myself deflate in his grip before I can react accordingly.
“What the f*ck!” I shout, wiggling myself free.
Callan chuckles darkly and shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look at you. So crass these days.”
I mimic his stance. “What can I say? I learned from the best. You’ve got one helluva sailor’s mouth yourself.”
“I’m not a sailor, love.” He smirks. “A pirate? Yes. The Captain? Obviously. Not a sailor, though.”