Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Quinn
When I wake up the next morning, I find a surprise on my nightstand.
At some point during the night, someone snuck into my room and left a simplified, teeny-tiny cell phone.
It can’t call out, and it refuses to connect to the internet, but I’m pleased to learn that it’s capable of texting the only contact in the device.
Green Guy.
I feel like a giddy schoolgirl as I flop back on the pillows and read the first note from him.
I want to see you again.
I kick my feet and squeal. My brain tries to conjure images of us on our wedding day, but all I see is a hulking green man in a tux. If I want to marry him, he can’t stay hidden forever. My fingers type out a reply, but my brain won’t let me send it.
I want to see you again too. Without the mask.
I nibble my bottom lip and consider what I’m asking.
Pressuring the guy isn’t a very good look, and it makes me seem superficial.
Truth be told, I don’t give a shit what he looks like.
If he’s a disfigured mess beneath all that fabric, it won’t bother me a bit.
When I’m with him, it just feels right. The sex, at least. We can work on the actual connection later.
Not wanting to scare him off, I delete the message and type something else.
How? And when? I always have my bodyguard attached to my hip.
My heart skips a beat when the bubbles pop up on the bottom of the screen. Somewhere in this hotel, maybe even just a few doors down, my crush is doing exactly what I am. He’s hovering over a phone and waiting for a reply. It’s torturously romantic.
At tonight’s exhibition, exit the circus tent when the first act ends. I’ll find you.
I flip the television to the day’s itinerary.
There are several events going on this morning, including another coaster demonstration before lunch, followed by a few events scattered around the park afterward.
Dinner is set in the grand dining hall after a show in the circus tent.
Since I’m forced to take my meals at the hotel now, sneaking away shouldn’t be too difficult.
I’ll just say I’m heading back to eat. I’ve lost Aven once before, and I can do it again.
See you tonight.
With a smile, I stretch and climb out of bed. This is going to be a good day. Not even Aven can dampen my good mood when he knocks on my door a few minutes later.
He’s dressed in a pale-green t-shirt that brings out the golden flecks in his dark eyes. I hate the way it hugs his muscles. Also, I hate that I’m still so attracted to him when I should be focused on the man who actually wants me.
I should also be thinking about the stalker—you know, the whole reason I’m on this impromptu vacation—but I can’t seem to think of anything other than exploring this dark fantasy. If I want to earn that money, I’ll need to buckle down.
I let Aven into my room, and he takes a seat on the chair in the corner as I finish brushing my teeth.
“What’s the plan for the day?” he asks.
I rinse my mouth and come around the corner, pulling my hair into a high ponytail. “Are you giving me carte blanche?”
“Within reason.”
I study the television again. “Let’s do the coaster demonstration. We missed it the other day, and I’m curious to see what it’s all about.”
“You dinnae get enough from the simulation?”
My cheeks blaze red. I’d almost forgotten about that simulation . . . and the kiss. Reminders about my crush on Aven are the last things I need right now. My pussy and I are firmly in camp Green Guy.
Right?
Right.
I wave my hand through the air. “Or we can do something else. Doesn’t matter to me.”
He nods his head and sits forward with his elbows on his knees. “Aye, we could do whatever you’d like. If that’s the coaster demonstration, then that’s what we’ll do. But I’ve seen where your mouth has been, so don’t expect a kiss.”
Pushing my arms into a light jacket, I roll my eyes and head for the door. These lips are reserved for the man in green.
I’m grateful to see the ride operators have faces when we arrive at the coaster. Even so, I make choices that differ from those I made in the simulation. Wouldn’t want to give Aven the wrong impression after that little comment he made.
In reality, I chose the coaster demonstration because I figured Desmond would be there since he chose the popcorn-eating contest yesterday.
It’s not that I want to see him, but if I want to help them catch him, then I need to pull my weight.
That bonus from Jim is the shortcut to riches I’ve been praying for, but I only get the additional money if I help them bag their prize.
And sure enough, as we approach the boarding platform—to get into the front coaster car, not the back—I spy the man of the hour preparing to board the final car. I tug Aven’s sleeve, and he stops, nearly causing me to ram into his back.
“Do you need to piss again?” he asks.
I shake my head. “What? No, look over there.”
I point toward the man and his skinny friend, and Aven turns to look at them. He nods and turns back to me.
“Aye, I see him. Clever lass.” He ruffles my head and fucks up my ponytail. Asshole. “Do you feel up to tugging the line a bit?”
I nod and smooth my hair. Jim and Aven have really latched on to the fishing euphemisms, but I guess it works.
Tugging the line means enticing Desmond to act, which is something we haven’t fully tried yet.
What we’ve been doing is more like dropping the line in the water without letting him get a nibble.
God, now I’m using fish talk. Gross.
“Yeah, I think it’s time,” I say.
I raise my hand and wiggle my fingers at the men. The skinny one spots me first. He punches his older friend in the arm and turns him toward me. “Nathaniel” waves back, and the pair start heading our way.
“What do I do?” I whisper as I keep smiling at the approaching men. “I didn’t think this far ahead.”
But Aven doesn’t respond.
Not wanting to look behind me and show too much dependance on another man, I take a step forward and nearly fall into the older man’s disgusting arms. He doesn’t even bother to reach out and catch me as I steady myself on the queue railing.
“First day on those beautiful legs?” he asks with a sly smirk. His gaze eats up my body, lingering for entirely too long on my thighs.
I giggle and swat his chest. “Oh, Nicholas. You’re so funny!”
He simultaneously preens under the attention and bristles because I got his name wrong. It was intentional. Men like you more when you make them feel small and inconsequential. Some men pay heavily for it.
“It’s Nathaniel,” he says, “but you can call me Desmond.”
He whispers this last as he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. It was so quiet, I can’t even be sure I heard it. I’m in such a state of shock that I turn to Aven for reassurance.
But he’s no longer there. The sun has set, and my shadow is nowhere to be seen.
“Would you like to join me in the last car?” Nathaniel—fucking Desmond—asks. “I hear it’s the best seat.”
I would rather lie at the bottom of the first hill with my legs spread wide as the coaster train barrels directly into my asshole. But, as so many women have before me and so many women will after me, I smile and nod to appease the asshole in my life. Such is our lot.
Cold sweat slicks my palms as I allow him to lead me to the end of the train.
Flashes of memories break through, of that last ride with my mother and the way it felt to have her protective fingers wrapped around mine.
It wasn’t like this. There were genuine smiles and laughter, not this plastic grin to smother my fear.
When I held my mother’s hand, there was never any fear.
Holding this man’s hand brings it out of me in spades, though.
I glance behind me again, searching for Aven. Surely he’s still watching from somewhere. He wouldn’t leave me in this vulture’s scaly hold.
I try not to study Desmond’s face too closely as we wait to board, but I can’t help it.
He’s becoming a silver fox, as patches of gray creep into his dark sideburns, but he lacks King’s charm and allure.
I’d say it’s just that King has the benefit of that sexy accent, but Aven’s accent doesn’t help him at all.
Okay, that’s a lie. Aven’s accent is the stuff that orgasms are made of.
Why are you thinking of him right now? He didn’t even stick around to keep you safe.
Desmond’s ice-blue eyes stare down at me. He’d be attractive if he didn’t have that creepy air hanging around him. I’ve read enough dark romances to know he lacks the sliver of soul required to become a leading man. He’d be the villain.
I glance behind me again, but I only see a few more Sinners as they file in for the ride. There’s Grim and Rose, and Ice Pick waddles in right behind them. The familiar faces put me more at ease, but the one face I want to see still isn’t there.
“I think your little friend was jealous. He took off. It’s just us, princess.” Desmond’s words settle around my lungs and squeeze. That isn’t a threat. It’s a promise.
My spine stiffens, but I slide my arm into his. I won’t let him beat me, even without my scary-dog privilege. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Desmond. It’s nice to put a face to the name after all this time.”
“Nice?” He chuckles, and the sound is like gravel in his chest. When he bends lower and breathes against my ear, his warm breath does the opposite of giving me goosebumps. My skin wants to recede inside itself. “Aren’t you terribly afraid?”
Yeah, I am, and if I didn’t care so much about my image, my weak-ass bladder would release and I’d be pissing myself right now.
He can’t know that I’m scared out of my mind, though, so I offer him a playful roll of my eyes as I turn my head and whisper right back, “I’m not the one who should be afraid. ”
He laughs again, right as the gates open for us to board the ride.
I allow him to load first, mostly so that he doesn’t enjoy the same view of my ass that Sim Aven had.
Desmond doesn’t get that honor. Now, if I’d had a nice explosion brewing in my gut, I’d have crop dusted him and not felt bad about it, but my bowels have chosen the freeze response.
I almost feel numb as I sink into the seat and pull the lap bar over my thighs. It clicks into place and holds me down.
I look over at Desmond. He smirks at me and goes to lower the lap bar, then shakes his head and moves to get out of the seat.
“Where are you going?” I ask, panicked. Did I fuck this up? Did he sense how terrified I am and decide it’s not worth it, it’s too easy?
Before he fully exits his seat, he flops back down and turns to face me. “I won’t be riding this with you today, Quinn. I’ve had fun playing our little game of hide and seek, but now I’m bored. You know who I am, and I’ve known who you are for a very long time. So let’s play a new game, hmm?”
“What do you mean?” I pull on the lap bar, but it’s already locked in place. I’m trapped. “Watching me rub my cunt for a bunch of randos on the internet doesn’t tell you anything other than whether the carpet matches the drapes.”
I yank on the lap bar again as he rises to leave. I can’t let him get away. Not when he’s suddenly being so open. God, why can’t I get other men to open up like this?
Speaking of other men, Aven may not be where I can see him, but he’s watching. He has to be. There’s no way he’d leave me to my own devices at such a crucial moment. I might act like I know what I’m doing, but I have no clue what these buttons do, and the machine is starting to smoke.
Desmond stops and places his hands over mine.
“Stop all the fretting and enjoy the coaster. We’ll have plenty of time for conversation later.
Don’t you worry.” Before he reaches the exit, he turns to me with one parting shot.
“Oh, and the person who told me the last seat on the train is the best? That was your mother.”
As he turns with a laugh, I shout for the ride attendant to cut me loose, but it’s useless. The ride music has already started, and it drowns out anything I say. Desmond slides into the shadows with a gentle wave, and then he’s gone.