55. Tess
TESS
My leg was falling asleep, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t dare move off the couch: not when Butch was sleeping soundly against my thigh.
I shifted my weight, trying to alleviate the tingling in my toes without waking the furry little guy. The TV was playing another episode of Sweetheart Shores, and the remote was too far out of my reach to do anything about it.
I had half a mind to ask Nash to change the show, but she was busy in the kitchen whipping up lunch.
Plus, I’m still annoyed at her.
I frowned as I reminded myself of that fact. Her apology had helped smooth things over a bit, but she was far from forgiven. And I had to be vigilant that she didn’t forget that I was still fuming with her.
Cyrus on the other hand didn’t seem to give a single fuck about my forgiveness. Ever since our fight, she’d spent most of her days locked away in that cave she called a bedroom. She hardly ever emerged for food or air, but when she did, she was always glued to her laptop.
Can’t even look at me. I bet she’ll be thrilled once I’m gone.
But if that was true, why had she gone to such lengths to keep me here?
The question disconcerted me. Fighting to suppress a chill, I turned my attention back to Butch, who was snoring softly beside me. All I wanted to do was to pet the bridge of his little speckled nose, but I knew better than to poke the tiger while he was sleeping.
It was a miracle he was even around considering that his favorite human was locked away in her dungeon. I still had no idea what he saw in her. For a creature with such good survival instincts, he’d chosen an odd companion.
Nash had been hanging around me for days, doing me favors and getting as close as she could without me snapping. But Blade…
Where the fuck is Blade?
She’d spent a ton of time out of the house lately. She’d disappear at odd hours of the morning and wouldn’t come back until well after sunset. We didn’t talk much when she came in — my choice rather than hers.
But try as I might to ignore her, it was impossible not to notice that she was working on something. The sweet musk of manual labor always announced her at the door, followed by the thud of steel-toed boots by the entry way.
Try as I might to avert my eyes, I couldn’t help but notice the glistening sweat over her tight muscles, nor the dirt that clung to her clothes.
She wasn’t even trying to hide it. But despite my curiosity, I was too prideful to ask.
Whatever.
I was desperate for a distraction: these lesbians would drive me crazy if I let them. Leaning back into the couch, I hoped that Sweetheart Shores’ asinine plot might be the answer I was looking for.
Straight people drama is so much simpler.
But just as I thought the zombie-brained men and their washboard apps were going to bore me to death, something else caught my attention. The slam of a door downstairs, followed by bootsteps bounding up the stairs.
Blade.
I’d hardly thought her name before the door swung open, revealing Feverpoint’s resident maniac. Her green eyes widened as she set her sights on me, and her smile stretched wider across her cheeks.
“Tess!” She leapt halfway up, apparently startled by the sight of me.
I frowned as Butch opened his eyes and leapt down from the couch. “What do you want?”
“I’ve got a surprise for you!”
“Great. Because the last one went over so well?” I sat forward, rubbing out my sore leg.
“Oh, come on. This is so different! Let me show you!” The energy was intense, even for her. She was completely unfazed by my coldness — her mania burned hot enough for the both of us, it seemed.
But as she waved me toward the door, I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not exactly in the mood to go for a walk.”
“I can carry you!”
“No.” I sighed as she crossed the room, dirty boots smudging the floor where she kneeled in front of me.
“Please? I know you’re still mad, Trinket. But I want to try to make it up to you.” Her green eyes searched mine pleadingly.
As mad as I was at Blade, I also couldn’t deny the soft spot I had for her. What she had done was so much worse than the other two. So why did my heart ache when I saw the guilt in her gaze?
“...You’ve got five minutes.” I sighed, letting her help me off the couch. “And it better be good.”
“Oh, you’re going to love this,” she laughed, that relentless charm lighting up her eyes.
As we headed for the door, Blade looped her hand with mine and led me down the cobblestone walkways with nothing short of exuberance. Whether it was because of the ticking clock or her own excitement, I couldn’t tell, but we were flying down the path toward Prize Alley.
“What, you think winning me a teddy bear will solve this?”
“I hope not. That’d be way easier than what I did.” Blade hummed with excitement. “Any other guesses?”
I shook my head. Even if I’d felt like entertaining her little game, I honestly had no clue what she had planned. Trying to figure out what went on in Blade’s mind was a task better left to a professional.
Even they might not be able to dissect this weirdo.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out though. As we strode past defunct carnival games and ticket booths, there was only one structure in the whole of Prize Alley that had power.
“The carousel?”
The thing towered over the game stands like a small mountain. A double decker, it was tricked out in full Victorian style: decorated horses galloped on the lower platform while painted doves spread their wings on the top deck.
Or they had, at least. Most of the park had changed since my childhood, and the carousel was no exception. The bright red and white paint had faded into muddier shades. Only the gold details held their varnish, and even that had chipped away in places.
The wooden horses were mostly intact. But the birds were completely gone.
I peered at the upper deck, trying to get a better look. The platform was enclosed now, but even under the warm carnival lights, I struggled to make out what had replaced the birds.
“Is this your grand plan? A couple of spins on the carousel.”
“Not exactly…” Blade smirked.
Before I could dig at her cryptic response, she hopped up onto the spinning platform. With her elbow looped around one of the tall, golden poles, she reached a hand down for me.
“You Freaks have a death wish. You know these rides are dangerous, right?”
“Oh, please. It’s moving two miles per hour.”
Grumbling, I took her hand, gripping on tight until I got my feet underneath me. This was nothing like the teacups of death, but the motion was enough to knot the pit of my stomach.
“Plus,” she added, “Cyrus told me you’re no stranger to hitching a ride on these things. That log flume trick you pulled—?”
“Safer than the alternative.” I raised a brow, daring her to challenge me. Cyrus had made no secret of how much she despised me.
And Blade wasn’t going to bullshit me. “Can’t say I disagree.”
She shook her head, squeezing my hand. “Come on. We’re almost there.”
Blade led the way, never dropping her grip on my hand as we weaved through the dancing horses and wide carriages until we reached the grand Victorian staircase that wound around to the upper platform.
I wanted to be annoyed with her. More than anything, I wanted to hold a grudge, to make her pay for her lies. But her excitement was contagious, and as we bounded up the staircase, I couldn’t help the racing of my own heart.
Sucker.
I forced the smile from my lips. I wouldn’t let her see my joy. As we crested the staircase, Blade swung open a brand new glass door and ushered me into the dark enclosure.
I should have been afraid. She was a killer, and a liar, and god knew what else?
But as she flicked on a light switch, my jaw dropped. Everything changed.
Where wooden doves had once spread their wings now stood a deluxe dance studio. One Blade had built from scratch, I realized.
“Surprise, Trinket.” She purred. “Whaddaya think?”