“Hawthorne’s not a problem.” Resting her arms on the table, Dizzy follows the FBI agent with her eyes. She makes no move to get up off the floor. “He’s really not.”
Summer doesn’t look assured. She looks a little gray. “As long as he’s out—”
“—there. No one is safe. Yada. Yada. Yada.” Dizzy spins around as the agent switches directions and strides toward us. She smacks the back of her head into the tabletop. “Ow.”
“It’s not a joke, Dizzy,” Summer says.
She reaches up and gingerly touches the spot that hit the table. “That was close.”
“What are you doing?” Rogue asks as he and Ivy approach.
“Nothing. It’s comfortable down here.” Dizzy twitches and then she catches sight of Summer’s legs encased in black velvet. “I wanted to check out Summer’s boots. Do they come in pink? I would kill to have a pair.”
“Why don’t you come up here.” Rogue extends a hand. “West is walking in the door.”
She grabs his hand and climbs his arm before he can pull her up. Dragging him closer by his shoulder, she uses him as a shield as she searches out West like she’s a covert operative in a suspense comedy. She swings back to the FBI agent. “Shit. This is not good.”
“What is going on?” Ivy steps between Rogue and her sister. She wraps her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “You’re wound up.”
“We have an FBI agent on the premises,” Summer says.
“Is it because of Alec and...” Ivy is deathly pale. “Jackson. That was self-defense. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Shit. I wish that was why.” Dizzy is vibrating at this point. About to explode out of her skin. She watches West, who is, as usual, scanning the room, probably looking for her. And then she watches the FBI agent, who is talking to Rebel. He has his back to the entrance and West.
Rebel introduces the agent to one of the ranchers. He spots West and gestures for him to join them.
“Dizzy!” Ivy all but shouts to get her attention.
Dizzy stills. Her gaze locks on her sister’s face. She points at the black material covering part of Ivy’s face. “Can I borrow that? I need to borrow it.”
“Borrow what?”
“Your mask. Please, Ivy. Please,” Dizzy begs.
“Oh.” Ivy nibbles her lip, then unties the mask. “Here.”
“Thank you.” Dizzy snatches the mask. She slips it over her pink hair and gives Ivy a grateful look before she darts away.
Rogue tugs Ivy to his chest. “What the hell was that about?”
Riot rises from the padded mats surrounding the bull. He dusts himself off as he too follows Dizzy’s pinball trajectory.
Could things get any weirder?
32
Riot
The mechanical bull got the best of me, bucking and whirling faster and faster while my hands got sweaty. But at least candy head enjoyed the show.
Dizzy whirls past me, almost knocking me off my feet. She’s wearing Ivy’s cat burglar mask, her bright hair flying out behind her.
She barely manages to avoid several people before she grabs the agent’s shoulder and spins him around.
He immediately reacts with tension and readiness, but no one is ever ready for Dizzy. She grabs his face with both hands and plants her mouth smack bang on his.
Well, shit. Tongue and all. I did not expect that.
