‘Gia,’ he says, ‘Can’t have you waiting to get into your own show.’
‘Thanks again for doing this.’
He lifts a shoulder. ‘Collecting legal money’s a change, but I kinda like it.’
I smile, then pause and lean in to whisper, ‘Lose the spliff, X. There are kids here.’
‘Yes, boss.’
I give him a wink as I slip through the temporary turnstile. The carnival is teeming with tiny goblins, ghosts and skeletons running amok.
I think I see Landon in a small group, so I dash in the other direction, not having the time for one of our typically sweet interactions which I love so much. I should have given X a blacklist.
Walking into the car park – full of carnival rides, haunted houses and food trucks – feels like walking into The Lost Tropics. The place is pure dynamic energy. Even the familiar scent of oil wisps through, but this time, it’s from the deep-fried chips on a stick.
I spot Monique at one of the picnic tables by the food trucks. I head over, plopping down on the seat opposite her.
‘Hey Monz.’ I give her my biggest smile.
Maybe too big.She eyes me suspiciously, sending unease fluttering around in my chest. Dressed in green Spandex, her Poison Ivy outfit is perfect. I’d found a carbon fibre mask in my closet that’s hanging around my neck now, and decided a few strips of black fabric on my usual black skirt,boots and a long-sleeved shirt would make me an assassin. Or was it a ninja? Whatever I am, I grab a few of Monique’s fries. They’re limp and chewy, making me wince.
‘These are cold,’ I complain.
‘They’re not mine,’ she deadpans.
‘Oh.’ My jaw drops, letting the mush fall back onto the paper plate. I push it aside and interlace my fingers in front of me. ‘I have to check in with the stallholders and make sure they’re okay, but we can go on a ride first. It’s tradition. Take your pick.’
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she pins me with a calculating glare. ‘What happened?’
It’s incredible, it really is, the way she always knows something’s up … or maybe Ryker is right and I am just a Little Suspect.
‘When?’ I twist a few of my rings, not wanting to meet her eyes.
‘Sometime between when I saw you last and now, because you’re doing that thing.’
‘What thing?’ I frown, wishing I had a glass of water to rid the powdery feeling of starch still lingering on my tongue. ‘Aren’t you proud of me? This whole thing would have been canned, and the entry cut will pay for practically all the renovations.’
‘I’m insanely proud of you. I knew you’d have this place sooner or later. The pressing issue right now is that you’re doing the thing where you’re not looking at me and you’re talking too much, so you’re hiding something.’ She sips her drink through a paper straw. The cup matches her red nails. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened? Because it’s written all over your face.’
Maybe I should just tell her everything.
She looks over my shoulder and gasps, which is quickly followed by the scent of bergamot, leather and bad fucking decisions. I can feel the energy radiating from him. The temperature skyrockets whenever he’s near.
‘Long time no see, Monique.’ Ryker straddles the bench beside me with a thud, looking hot as sin in his black leather jacket and sexy-messy hair. An amused grin crosses his lips as he gives me a look that sets me on fire.
Monique is gaping at him. ‘Long time no see?’ she echoes. ‘What thefuckare you doing here, Ryker? Oh, you remember Gia, don’t you?’ Her voice drips with sarcasm.
‘On what planet would I ever forget my Little Suspect?’ He squeezes my thigh. ‘We’ve already caught up.’
Her attention flicks to me and I feel the colour drain from my face. Just like it did when Ryker asked me in my bedroom last night if I trusted him. It felt like I was thrown back in time, with the same college boy looking down at me in the art room asking that very same question. I was shocked when, despite everything, my answer hadn’t changed.
‘Oh? You’ve already caught up, have you?’ Monz rips me back into the moment.
Ryker gives an award-winning smile and reaches over me to drag the basket of fries toward him. He picks a few and tosses them into his trap, immediately wincing.
‘Gianna.’ He grimaces at me. ‘These are cold.’
I open my mouth, then hesitate. Instead I give a sly grin.
