Chapter Five
Lorcan stood in front of a small cottage outside Mortlake. It was just twenty minutes away from London, but the area already had a totally different feel to it. Lorcan was not much into cottages. Despite the fact that many people considered cottages to be full of character and cultural charms, Lorcan thought of them as enclosed spaces where people have lived and died. It didn’t help his necrophobia—he couldn’t handle dead things. Even the thought of them made him dizzy. Or maybe a few bottles in an empty stomach made him dizzy. He wasn’t quite sure.
But this cottage was different. It was his best friend Riley’s place. It was a small cottage, but it had a lively feel to it. He needed to crash right now. He wasn’t much of a drinker. He didn’t know why he would even go to that
