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“It’s a pumpkin! They’re all the same!”

“Take that back!” I gasped, nearly tripping over an inferior gourd from the row over.

“Cyrus, come on. You know it’s not worth the fight.” Nash sighed. “Just help her carry it so this can end faster.”

“I’m not helping her put that muddy fucking monster in the back of the Cadillac! She’s going to get the car filthy!”

“I don’t need your help!” I snarled, hoisting the pumpkin higher as I marched out of the patch. “Let’s go, Tess.”

And with my supreme gourd secured, I led the way to the car, hardly breaking a sweat as I loaded her into the trunk. Taking a step back, I couldn’t help but admire my pick. “She’s a beauty, huh?”

Tess frowned, watching as Nash loaded the other pumpkins into the trunk and Cyrus stalked off to pay. “I’m starting to think I need to worry about my competition here…”

“Nonsense, Trinket. You’re my favorite toy. I’d never carve you up. But her…”

I eyed the pumpkin with delight. Step one was done. But the day was only just starting.

I fucking love fall.

62

TESS

When the Cadillac pulled up outside the apartment, the sun was already sinking in the sky over Feverpoint.

With each passing day, the cold dark of winter begged to take over.

As soon as Cyrus put the car in park, Blade leapt out of the red car and to the trunk, pulling out her massive pumpkin and hauling it upstairs.

Nash tucked both mine and hers under her hulking arms and followed behind.

Making my way inside, Cyrus followed closely behind me, reluctantly holding her own pumpkin by its thick stem.

Inside, Nash was reaching under the sink for some sort of cover to place over the counter. But before she could, Blade was slamming her pumpkin into the marble and grabbing her twin axes from the front door.

She slammed the ax into the pumpkin’s hard skin, a wet squish echoing off the concrete walls of the loft.

“Asshole. That’s gonna make a mess.” Nash hissed, shoving Blade’s shoulders.

With a shrug, Blade grinned with the eagerness of a dog with a bone. “That’s half the fun.” Her attention turned over to me as I sauntered up to the counter. “Isn’t that right, Trinket?”

Putting my index finger on my nose, I laughed. “Shotty not cleaning this up.”

Before Nash could lift her finger, Cyrus beat her to it. “Ditto.”

“You’re all bastards.” Nash’s shoulder fell as she put her pumpkin up on the bar counter. Reaching into the utensil drawer, Nash pulled out two sets of carving tools. Each one had a cutesy halloween themed handle.

Twirling them in my hand, I raised an eyebrow at my Freaks. “How often do you three do this? You’ve got multiple kits?”

Cyrus just clenched her jaw tighter, grabbing a chef’s knife from the block near the sink. Sliding onto one of the barstools, she slammed the blade down into her pumpkin and got to work hollowing it out.

Rolling my eyes, I knew she’d halfass the carving. She’d put some basic design on the front and call it a night — leaving us to put them outside.

Blade was deep into gutting her orange squash. “Pretty much every year. It’s my favorite.”

“Cute.” I smiled at Nash who was delicately slicing a circle around the stem of her pumpkin. Gripping my own knife, I followed her lead.

Without looking up from her work, Cyrus grumbled out a question. “When was the last time you carved one?”