9. Damien
Damien
Nine fifty-eight.
The pocket watch tucked inside my coat had become less of a timepiece and more of a ritual over the last five seasons.
One of the promises we’d made each other when we reopened Graves Park was that we’d honor the people who built it. Our grandparents ended every Friday with fireworks over Butcher’s Bay.
When I was a kid, people would drag lawn chairs down to the shoreline just to watch them bloom over the lake. The town’s noise ordinance was eleven. So, at exactly ten o’clock every Friday night in October, we put on a show. Some traditions deserved to survive.
“Almost there,” I told Luci.
Luci glanced up at me.
“Almost where?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
She accepted the mystery with a smile, her hand still looped around my arm as we wandered deeper into the park.
Past the abandoned coaster. Past attractions the public never realized sat this far back on the property. The crowds thinned until the only sounds were distant screams, warped calliope music drifting through the trees, and our footsteps crunching over gravel.
Then it appeared.
The watchtower.
It rose above the tree line, its weathered timbers silhouetted against the October sky. Most people assumed it had been built for the amusement park. It hadn’t.
Long before Graves Park existed, Butcher’s Bay had been a logging and fishing town.
The tower overlooked both the lake and the surrounding forest. Decades ago, volunteers climbed it to watch for smoke during dry autumns, spotting forest fires before they reached town.
During storm season, fishermen’s families gathered below, waiting for word that boats had made it safely back into the harbor.
When my grandparents bought the land, everyone expected them to tear it down. Instead, Arthur Graves built the midway around it.
“History belongs where people can see it,” he’d said.
So it stayed. When we inherited the park, it was one of the first things we restored.
We put in new stairs, fresh supports, and fastened the iron railings. Everything else could look abandoned, but the tower deserved to stand proudly.
Jack, unfortunately, had discovered it also made an excellent place to impress women. He’d been taking dates up there for weeks.
I had the idea to take Luci up there when she was feeding the crows. So, I texted him.
Damien
Need the tower at ten.
His response had arrived almost immediately.
Jack
HAHAHAHAHAHA
Followed by:
You finally got a girl?
Then:
Don’t worry, lover boy. I’ll clear out.
Luca would know within the hour. Jack would make sure of it. I would try to convince them that I was trying to impress Luci for the business, but I could not care less about her review right now.
Not when Luci was walking beside me, looking around with the kind of wonder that made every sleepless night restoring this place worth it.
When we got to the base of the tower, she stopped.
“You brought me here?”
“Ladies first.” I gestured up the steps.
She peered upward. The staircase disappeared into darkness. Then she looked back at me.
“You didn’t bring me out here to murder me, did you?”
A laugh escaped before I could stop it.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I knew it!”
Then she stepped inside. The iron staircase circled the tower in tight switchbacks. One hand gripped the weathered railing while the other brushed lightly against the center post as she climbed. I waited until she’d gained a little distance. No sense making the climb awkward.
I leaned my cane carefully against the base of the tower before following her upward.
The stairs creaked beneath my boots. A cool breeze carried the scent of pine and woodsmoke through the open slats. She climbed steadily, her denim shorts and her fishnets catching the moonlight between the beams.
I politely kept my eyes on the steps. For approximately three seconds. Then they betrayed me. The worn denim hugged her as she climbed, one careful step after another.
October had always smelled like apples. Somehow, watching her disappear farther up the staircase, I understood why. This was an apple I wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of.
I cleared my throat and forced my attention back to the iron beneath my boots.
You are a goddamn professional, Damien. Remember?
When we reached the top, Luci stepped onto the platform and immediately stopped.
“Oh…” The word escaped her like a breath. “Whoa.”
The entire park stretched beneath us. The Ferris wheel turned slowly through ribbons of fog. amber lights stitched together the midway below. Guests wandered between attractions like tiny shadows. The lake shimmered beyond the trees, smooth as black glass beneath the moon.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
I smiled. “Thought you might like this.”
She turned toward me, eyes shining.
“Do you mind if I take some pictures?”
I gestured toward the railing.
“Be my guest.”
She slipped a disposable camera from the small bag at her hip. Not her phone. Not a digital camera. Film.
The shutter clicked. Again. And, again.
She photographed the Ferris wheel and the moonlight reflecting across the lake.
She wasn’t rushing, she wasn’t perfectly posing staged items, she was collecting moments.
“I have to admit something,” I said.
She lowered the camera.
“Oh?”
“I had no idea who you were until my cousin told me.”
A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth.
“That’s okay.” She shrugged. “You know me now.”
“I’ve had…” I searched for the right words, “…less than pleasant experiences with influencers since we opened the park.”
Her expression didn’t change.
“I don’t do the whole social media thing to begin with but then a few rotten apples left a bad taste in my mouth.”
She leaned against the railing, listening.
“But…” I shrugged as I continued. “I think I misjudged you.”
As she waited for the explanation, her brows raised.
“Watching you tonight, with the crows, the way you’ve experienced this place instead of performing for it.” I smiled faintly. “I don’t think you’re here just to make content.”
What I didn’t tell her was that I’d asked Cassie to show me her page after I won her the stuffed crow at the midway.
My brothers would have given me so much shit, but Cassie simply unlocked her phone and handed it over with a knowing smile.
I watched a handful of videos of her walking in old cemeteries, cleaning headstones and leaving flowers, reviewing classic horror movies, book recommendations and, of course, her video logs of the haunted attractions she visited. None of it felt fake.
When I handed the phone back, Cassie had smiled.
“Maybe it’s finally time you make yourself an account, cousin.”
For the first time in my life…I’d actually considered it.
Luci smiled knowingly at my admission. It wasn’t smug. It wasn’t surprised. It was the smile of someone who’d heard those words before.
“I really do love what I do,” she admitted.
The entire expression transformed her. Her eyes brightened.
Her hands moved as she spoke. “I know social media gets a bad reputation, but I use it as a tool, not with the expectation to gain a million followers or go viral. I don’t take this life for granted either.
I know it’s a one in a million chance to get people to connect with you…
and stay connected with you. I know how lucky I am. ”
The first firework left the shoreline. A single orange ember climbed silently into the sky.
Luci gasped. It burst above the lake in a brilliant bloom of amber and gold.
A heartbeat later, the boom rolled across Butcher’s Bay. Another shell followed, then another. Orange chrysanthemums opened above the water, their reflections rippling across the lake before fading into darkness.
The flashes painted her face in warm gold. She looked up, completely captivated. I realized then that I wasn’t looking at the fireworks. I was looking at her and suddenly the distance between us felt unbearable.
I stepped closer. She turned toward me and for a second neither of us spoke.
The fireworks continued blooming above the park, bathing the old watchtower in waves of orange and yellow light.
“You smell like apple cider,” I murmured.
A laugh escaped her.
“So…” She searched my face. “Is this where you kill me?”
Instead of answering, I stepped closer. Her eyes slowly left the sky and found mine. Another explosion rolled across the lake, but neither of us looked.
For once tonight, I didn’t know what came next. There was no script. I wasn’t in character. There were no carefully rehearsed line from the Ringmaster. It was just me. Just Damien.
My fingers brushed the loose hair away from her cheek.
Her breath caught.
I let my knuckles trail along the softness of her skin before my hand settled against the side of her neck, my thumb resting just beneath her jaw. She leaned into my palm. Just barely, but she did. That tiny movement destroyed the last of my restraint.
I lowered my head slowly enough for her to stop me. Slowly enough that I felt her breath against my lips before I ever touched them. But when her fingers curled into the front of my coat and her eyes closed any willpower I had left my body.
Our first kiss was almost embarrassingly careful. Just the soft press of my mouth against hers while fireworks thundered above us. For half a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then Luci kissed me back. And everything changed.
Her fist tightened in my coat, pulling me closer, and the restraint I’d been clinging to all night slipped another inch.
My hand moved from her neck into her hair, cradling the back of her head as I kissed her again.
Slower.
Deeper.
Her lips were soft and still faintly sweet from the cider she’d been drinking. Apple and cinnamon lingered there, mixed with the sugary trace of the fried dough she’d shared with her friends.
She tasted like October.
It was such a ridiculous thought that I almost laughed.
But there was no other way to describe her.
Apple cider.
Cold air.
Cinnamon sugar.
The warmth of her body beneath my hands while the entire autumn sky burned above us.
Her free hand slid up my chest and over my shoulder before settling against the back of my neck.
My other hand found her waist. My palm spread over the curve of it, drawing her closer until there was no cold October air left between us. She made a quiet sound against my mouth. It nearly ended me.
For thirty years, I’d thought hunger was something you immediately recognized. Something that announced itself with an ache. I hadn’t known a man could spend his entire life starving and never feel it until someone awoke as if by spell.
The thing was, Luci kissed me like she’d been waiting in the starvation too.
I turned my head, catching her mouth again as my thumb traced slowly beneath her jaw.
For a few impossible seconds, Graves Park disappeared. The midway, the crowds, Luci’s review, my family… all of it. There was only Luci beneath my hands and the taste of apples on my tongue. And that was exactly why I stopped.
I broke the kiss abruptly.
My forehead rested against hers while both of us caught our breath. Her fingers were still tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck. My hand was still around her waist.
Fuck.
“This is…” I swallowed. Not professional. This was supposed to be professional. She was here because Sidney invited her. She was reviewing our business. I’d known this woman for a matter of hours. “No.” I shook my head. “We shouldn’t do this.”
Luci’s hand slipped from my neck.
“Right.”
She gave me just the quiet word and stepped back like I’d just slapped her across the face.
Immediately I hated the space between us. She looked toward the lake, pressing her lips together as another firework illuminated her profile. I lasted three whole seconds after the fact.
Fuck professional.
Fuck the review.
Fuck every reasonable argument my brain had managed to assemble.
“Fuck it.”
Her head snapped toward me as I caught her around the waist and pulled her back. Her surprised laugh disappeared against my mouth.
The second kiss wasn’t careful.
It wasn’t the Ringmaster testing the boundaries with a guest. It wasn’t the owner of Graves Park worrying about a review. It was me choosing something because I wanted it.. choosing someone because I wanted them.
Her arms wound around my neck as another burst of orange rained over Butcher’s Bay. My hand spread across her back, holding her against me while the other returned to her face, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth before I kissed her again.
She smiled into it. Actually smiled.
I felt the curve of it beneath my lips, and something warm and unfamiliar cracked open inside my chest. Below us, Graves Park glowed through the darkness.
The Ferris wheel turned through the fog.
The carousel played its ancient little song.
Crows perched along rooftops and forgotten rides.
Thousands of amber lights flickered across the midway my grandparents had built and I’d fought to bring back from the dead.
For five years, I’d stood in the middle of it all and watched other people find magic here. Tonight, beneath a sky burning orange, with Luci Addams in my arms and cinnamon still lingering on her lips, I finally understood what it felt like to find some of my own.