1
AINSLEY
I’d had someone killed once.
Theon Ryder.
It was something I knew I would never be able to forget, no matter the approach or times I forced myself to think otherwise.
But I barely thought about it now. I had much better things to focus on. Such as the Bohemian woman in front of me.
“You don’t sell fake stuff, and then call me a thief for returning it. I need my money back,” I gritted, running out of patience already. The air in the dimly lit tent was thick with the scent of incense and the faint hint of popcorn from the nearby carnival stands. The Bohemian lady, draped in layers of colourful fabrics and adorned with an array of jangly jewellery, looked up from her cluttered table with a frown.
She shook her head as though she was completely innocent and I was the crazy one for accusing her. Scammer. “Look, little girl—”
“I’m twenty-four,” I fired, slapping her gemstone locket onto her table with a sharp crack, my anger boiling over. The once-sparkling gemstone had shattered into pieces the moment it hit the floor of my house yesterday. “I want my money back,” I said. My voice came out rough and strained. “The emerald inside was fake. It fell out as soon as I got home, and look at it—completely and fucking shattered!”
“You’re certain you didn’t smash it by—”
I scoffed. “Would you smash something you bought for thirty-five dollars?” I felt my face flush with indignation. “I don’tneed a professional to tell me this is just glass. It broke when I dropped it on my floorboard. I trusted you to sell me something real. I worked my ass off for that damn money, woman.”
“Well, young lady, none of my customers have come to me with this allegation.”
“Let me guess, you’ve said this line like a hundred times to different people. I was all by my-fucking-self last evening when you came to me. I didn’t beg you to sell it to me.”
It was the truth. I’d been standing on my own, taking in the festival when she came to me with her collections, asking me to buy one of them. The locket had caught my eyes the second I saw it. It triggered something in me. A memory. I’d seen something like it before, but I couldn’t quite place my mind on where. That was why I bought it, unaware it was afake.It looked very eye-catching with the emerald enclosed inside the heart shaped thing.
“Neither did I force you to buy it. I know your type. And I won’t be duped anymore.”
I was flabbergasted. “Duped? Don’t try to play victim with me. I’ve had a fucking shitty day and I swear you don’t want to top that list tonight.” I was so prepared to climb over her table at this point and rip out her safe from wherever she hid it.
The lady’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her calm demeanour didn’t waver. Without a word, she reached for a small brass bell hidden beneath the folds of her draped garments and gave it a sharp ring. The sound cut through the thick, perfumed air with a clarity that settled cold in my bones.Bitch.
I began to climb, desperate to get my hard-earned money back, but two burly men appeared and grabbed my shoulders, shoving me away.
“Let go of me!” I shouted, my voice raw with frustration. I tried to push past them, but one of the men grabbed my armwith a grip that felt like iron. The Bohemian lady remained seated, her expression inscrutable.
“I suggest you leave now before things escalate further,” she said calmly. “You’ve made your point, and I’ve made mine.”
The man holding my arm tightened his grip, and panic swallowed me. “This is ridiculous!” I cried out, but my protest was drowned by the din of the carnival outside, and the lady’s words faded into the background. The men began to escort me roughly towards the exit of the tent. I struggled against their hold, but their strength was overpowering. As they pushed me out of the tent and into the cold night air, I could only watch helplessly as the entrance to the tent closed.
I sat there, on the ground, fighting the urge not to cry for the thousandth time today. I failed, and the tears rushed out of me, shaking my body. People breezed past me, probably giving me weird glances, but none of it mattered, I’d done worse in public.
I lay on my bed, my eyes drifting over the view from my window. The town was bathed in the soft glow of early evening, streets winding through patches of shadow and light. It was quiet, save for the occasional distant murmur of life. There was a short knock on my door before it became persistent, my name following.
“Ainsley, I know you in there. Come on, I don’t mind you dying, but you gotta inform me first.” He knocked harder, and I drew in a sharp breath before sitting up, knowing he would make a home at my front door if I didn’t answer.
I put my legs back in the cover sheet when his keys jingled, and I heard the soft click of the door, his quick footsteps drawing close.
He opened my bedroom door and stopped, not moving from the doorstep. He crossed his arms, leaned on the frame, and began to watch me.
I stared back at him.
He didn’t break eye contact.
“The fuck you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“I could ask you the same. Why did you leave the carnival last night without telling me? I tried your phone multiple times but it kept redirecting me to voicemail. Is there something wrong?”
