Andi King didn't know how to play nice, because quite frankly, she didn't like people. She was a loner and that was how she liked it. Especially with a sadistic demon dead set on destroying her and anyone she got close to.
But that all changes when...
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Dean and I sat silently in the car as we tried to figure this out. He flipped through his father's journal, and I watched, enjoying the silence and the humming sensation the whiskey finally gave my body.
"Can't we just burn it?"
"And what if that just pisses it off more?"
"I don't know," I admitted.
"We'll just head back into town, recharge, and I'll see if Sammy has any ideas."
I nodded, trying my hardest to figure it out, but as I pulled up in front of Scotty's Diner, my mind settled on the growling of my stomach.
"Okay, so," Dean started as he slid the keys into his pocket. "Stick to the plan and -"
"I got it," I said quickly. "We're married. My name is Sarah Bohnam, and I will be filing for divorce tomorrow." He cocked his brow at me, and I groaned through gritted teeth before grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him behind me.
He froze in his step and looked over at me oddly as his rough, callused fingers stiffened around mine. He looked panicked for a moment and glanced around at the busy sidewalks.
"What are you doing?"
"Holding your hand," I said to him, pulling our hands up in front of us. I wiggled my fingers like a child, and I felt him tense, the awkwardness instantly flooding between us. "What? You're the one that said we had to make this believable."
"I didn't say we had to hold hands."
"Married people hold hands, Dean."
"I don't hold hands."
I scoffed. "And I don't date, but here I am, apparently married and about to die on my honeymoon." I tilted my head and released his cool fingers from my grip as he glared at me. "Then what do you want me to do? I don't really know how any of this works. "
"You've never had a boyfriend?"
"No," I lied. I shoved my hands in my pocket and slowly looked around, making sure nobody was taking any interest in our marital dispute.
I debated plan A over and over again. It would have been so much easier if I could have had just twenty minutes alone with the dick bag at the garage.
I almost did it too, my finger brushed against the cool metal in the back of my waistband, but a loud giggle caught my attention. I glanced over at the gas station next door, and I scoffed at Dean as I watched a couple our age joyfully walking towards the door, hands entwined as they laughed uncontrollably.
