by Kate Morris
“Alex would kill me,” he said. “Besides, I’m helping Wren here babysit this little monster.”
Hope smacked her tiny palm on the top of his head and giggled. His friend, however, shot a look at Wren.
“Great game, boys!” a passerby yelled toward them, to which they both waved. Their fellow teammates left with a couple of the girls in search of ‘grub.’
“Have you met, Jeremy?” Golden Boy asked. “This is Wren Foster. She’s new.”
“Hey, girl, what’s up?” Jeremy said with a nod.
“Jeremy!” a girl called out from ten yards away where she was waiting in line for food and waved. “Get him to come, Jer!”
“Wren, maybe you can talk some sense into him,” he cajoled and laughed. He seemed like a nice person, but Jeremy was definitely rowdy. “Drag him along. Maybe if you come, he’ll finally show his dumbass up.”
“Sure,” she said. “You should go. Sounds like it’ll be fun.” No, not at all, actually.
“Jer, come on,” one of the clingers cried and pouted while hanging on Jeremy’s arm. “You said you’d take me on the ferris wheel. You know I’m scared of heights. I can’t go on it without you.”
She was tugging on his arm and pressing herself suggestively into the young black man’s side. She was also sending dagger looks in Wren’s direction. Wren just rolled her eyes and looked away as he lifted Hope to the ground gently.
“See ya’ tonight, bro,” his friend said in retreat with the gaggle of girls and other players who’d circled. For good measure, Jeremy winked at her conspiratorially.
She had news for him. She was not going to some party and definitely not with Golden Boy.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized as Hope starting chanting for cotton candy. Wren shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter.
“’Kay, little one,” she said. “We’ll find a cotton candy stand.”
“That one! That one!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down yet again as she pointed toward the brightly lit ferris wheel full of brilliant colors and more circular motion.
“Oh, I don’t know…” Wren started.
“Cool, yeah,” he interrupted her. “You wanna’ ride that one next, squirt?”
“Yeah! Pretty!”
“Um…” Wren hesitated and chewed the inside of her lower lip with indecision.
“It’s cool. We’ll sit her in between us.”
“Us?”
He nodded as if his suggestion were something normal. “Yeah, she won’t fall out. Promise.”
Without waiting for her answer, he headed that way with Hope, leaving Wren with no choice but to follow. Unfortunately, the line wasn’t long, but more fans stopped them while they waited to board the death trap. The lights were dizzying as they went around and around the gigantic circle and performed dances to the beat of the music playing. He let her get on ahead of him, placed Hope on her bottom next to her on the metal seat and took up the final space. They just fit. Super. She wanted off before it even moved, but it was too late. Plus, she didn’t want to look like a wimp. She’d already avoided this ride today because it was shut down while the carny took his break. She hated heights, going in circles, being in a potentially deadly situation, and…heights. When it was over, she wanted to puke in a nearby trashcan but held herself in check. Barely.
“Again, again!” Hope screamed when they got off, already tugging his hand.
“No, not right now,” Wren stated firmly, getting a little frown.
“Pick something else, kiddo,” he told the tyrant.
“Horseys!” Hope yelled, clearly unable to focus on anything for more than a minute and oblivious to Wren’s discomfort.
A man walked up to them, probably in his sixties with white hair and a potbelly and slapped him on the shoulder, “Great game last night, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The man left, and she could hear him bragging to his friend about ‘that kid’s got an arm on him’ as he retreated. He really was a celebrity in this town.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “Anyway, Hope wants to ride a horse?”
“We already rode the ponies,” she reminded Hope, not wanting to fork over another ten bucks. “They’re probably in bed now anyway, kid. It’s dark out, see?”
“No, those horseys,” she clarified and pointed to the carousel that was lit up with gleaming bulbs, colors, horses, and other circus animals, and had magical music playing that made it too alluring to pass up for a little girl. “Those ones!”
She looked at Hope’s human rickshaw, who nodded. “Alright. Let’s go ride the carousel, kid.”
He led them onto the ride and hoisted Hope onto a horse’s back.
“Here, you can ride this one, Wren,” he offered, indicated the one in the middle next to Hope’s.
“Sure,” she accepted and climbed onto the brightly painted steed.
The music cranked up as the machine began moving in a continuous circle. The boy stood between them and kept his arm around the back of Hope to make sure she didn’t fall of. He also had his arm on the rump of Wren’s horse, which sort of irritated her. She didn’t need his help.
Hope giggled and screamed as if this were the most exciting thing she’d ever done, but Wren starting feeling more and more dizzy. She was glad when the ride ended. Hope leaped into his arms, and he set her to her feet. She took off for the grass. Wren went to get down and got a bad dizzy spell and almost fell forward and hit her face on the bar coming up out of the horse’s neck meant for holding onto.
“Hey, are you okay?” Golden Boy asked and grabbed her arm.
“Yeah, fine,” she lied and had trouble focusing. The world was still spinning.
He must’ve picked up on it and slipped his arm around her waist and helped her down.
“Got it?”
“Yes, of course,” she stated angrily and swayed.
“Yeah, right,” he rejected and put his arm around her again, gripping her waist tightly with his hand. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
“No, this is embarrassing,” she retorted quietly.
He laughed. “Just pretend you’re so into me that you can’t keep your hands off me.”
She groaned and allowed him to help her off the ride and out the gate as Hope tagged closely along singing loudly.
He led her to a nearby picnic table set slightly away from the noise and the bustle of the main drag. The sun had set completely, and the lights from the vendor food trucks, the rides, and the street lights were adding to her dizziness.
“Stay here, okay?” he requested, to which she nodded. “I’ll be right back. Hope, stay.”
“’Kay!” she shouted as he jogged away. “Are you alright, Win?” she asked and patted her shoulder with concern.
It made Wren smile. “Yeah, I’m okay, kid. I just got dizzy. Those horses were running so fast.”
This got a giggle from the little one, and she sat next to her on the bench and rested her dark head against Wren’s arm. A few minutes later, she caught sight of him coming across the street toward them. He had to stop twice to do what looked like accept more praise about his game from adults he probably didn’t know. When he finally got to them, he was juggling a couple bottles of water, two bags of cotton candy, and a box with a whole pizza in it. Inside his jacket pocket, he pulled out two cans of Diet Coke.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said.
“Fanboys detain you? Did you have to sign any body parts?”
He gave a little nervous laugh and kept setting up their table with food items.
“Did you forget anything?” she joked, getting a grin. He wasn’t taking her attitude tonight, though.
“Here,” he said. “Drink. Then eat. It’ll help.”
“I feel like I’m gonna barf, and you want me to eat?”
He nodded anyway. “It’ll help. Besides, when was the last time you ate?”
She had to think about that one for a minute. She’d fed Hope but hadn’t felt like eating
then. She also hadn’t eaten much at lunch.
“Exactly. You probably have vertigo but riding fair rides on an empty stomach is sometimes just as bad as riding them on a full one.”
“How do you know that?”
He smiled that disarming smile of his again, “I used to get a season pass to Cedar Point.”
He tried to offer pizza to Hope, who refused and reached instead for the cotton candy bag, which he released into her custody. Probably a serious mistake.
“What’s that? I don’t know what Cedar Point is.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugged as she struggled with the cap on the bottle of water.
“Here, I got it,” he said, easily twisting it off without any effort at all. “Drink. Eat.”
“You’re not calling a football play. I don’t take orders from you, Golden Boy.”
He just smiled again and pushed the paper plate with the pizza on it toward her. “You eat, and I’ll tell you about Cedar Point.”
And he did. She took a few small bites as he explained the giant, ultra-mega, rated number one in the world amusement park with so many roller coasters. It was in Ohio, about two hours northwest of their town. He told her how he and his friends would get season passes and go up there with their friends and stay in cabins near the park for the weekends in the summer. Their parents would take turns driving them up, or they’d go with their church youth groups. It sounded like a lot of fun. For people who liked roller coasters. Or heights. Or lots of spinning. Or vomiting.
After a while, she was able to focus on one object at a time again, and the spinning stopped. Her stomach settled down, and she finished most of the slice of pizza.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“Yes…er…thanks,” she said with appreciation.
“Wow, that actually looked painful saying that.”
She glared. “It did work. I feel fine now. Don’t necessarily want to ride any more rides, though.”
“I don’t blame you.” He chuckled, showing his deep dimples.
“Let me give you some money for all of this,” she offered and dug into her front pocket.
He stayed her hand. “No, it’s on me. I got it.”
It felt weird letting him pay, but she didn’t argue further. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket a text message from Lila asking where she was.
“Crap,” she blurted. “Hey, we need to go. Your mom’s waiting for us.”
He tossed their leftovers, which wasn’t much as he’d eaten most of the pizza while she’d nibbled on her one piece. They left, taking Hope’s bag of cotton candy and the uneaten one with them. It only took a few minutes to find Lila waiting for them with a tall, handsome man at the carousel.
“Hey, brother,” the man said and knocked fists with him.
“Alex, this is Wren,” Golden Boy introduced her to his brother. She just offered a single wave and kept her eyes down for the most part. No friends. No acquaintances. People were dangerous. Connections were…deadly.
“Nice to meet you,” his brother said.
“Thanks for watching her, Wren,” Lila said. “You’re so great. And I’m glad you got outta’ that house tonight. You needed it. Girl, you’re too young to be sittin’ at home on a Saturday night all the time.”
“Okay,” she acknowledged and wanted to shrivel. She didn’t want to talk about this in front of him. “Well, see ya’.”
“It was nice meeting you, Wren,” his brother said. “Hey, not too late, okay?”
“Yep,” Golden Boy said.
“I heard there’s a big party tonight at Missy Trainor’s house,” Lila said.
“Yeah, Jeremy told me about it.”
“How do you know that?” Alex asked her.
“I work with a bunch of teenagers, Alex,” she said. “Except Jane.”
“I thought she was a teenager, too,” he questioned with confusion.
Wren had no idea who any of these people were, other than she’d mentioned Jane once. Lila found something humorous in his statement.
“Yes, she is technically a teenager, but she lives with her grandmother and never does anything. Hey, she’s kinda’ like you, Wren. You’d probably get along great!”
“Thanks, Lila,” she said with a nod and a frown.
“No going to parties, little brother,” Alex warned.
He chuckled low in his throat, “I had no intention of doing so. I’m only here right now ‘cuz the coach asked us to show up tonight for the town.”
His brother took an extra second to glance at Wren, which made her look away. Was he judging her? It felt like it.
“Let’s go, Alex!” Lila complained and pulled on his arm, which was just as thick as his brother’s. “Let the kids have some fun. I’ve got food in the car from the restaurant, and a movie queued up to watch at home.”
He nodded, gave his brother one last warning look, and left with Lila and Hope.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “He can be overly protective.”
She shook her head and considered his brother. He seemed fierce and intensely serious. “No, that’s fine. That’s good actually.”
“Hey, QB, great game last night!” a man stated as he walked past them and gave him two thumbs-up.
“Thank you, sir,” he said and turned back to her. He rolled his eyes. “I was…”
“Hey, Brannon, great throw in the final quarter, man!” someone else said as soon as he spotted him standing there. He looked like a college student.
Golden Boy sent a friendly wave and a smile. It was forced, though. Wren could tell. When he smiled at her, which wasn’t often, it looked different. “Thanks!” he yelled in return as the guy took off with a group of friends.
“They should’ve just set you up in a booth to sign autographs,” she quipped.
He groaned. “No way. That would’ve sucked.”
“Why? You could’ve basked in their praise and adoration.”
“Because, silly, I wouldn’t have been able to spend time with you,” he said and looked surprised that he had.
That was it. That was her queue. “I gotta go.”
“Sorry about that. I’m not…I…”
He was interrupted from further explaining his strange answer by the shrill scream of a woman. It sounded different than someone having fun on a ride.
“What was…” she asked and was cut off by a crashing sound to their left. She yelped.
“What the hell?” he asked slowly and took her arm.
There was some sort of fight taking place. A man was punching another man. It was violent, though. Not a typical fight at all. Wren backed up a few steps, even though the men were at least ten or fifteen feet away on the other side of one of the children’s games.
They crashed into a game with fake guns for shooting at balloons. The man on top of the other stood up and yanked one of those guns until the string holding it to the apparatus snapped and he had it free. Then he proceeded to bash the man on the ground in the head with it. A woman screamed and then another.
“Oh my God,” Wren said under her breath.
Two men tried to haul the man off of the one on the ground, so the man holding the weapon swung it at one of the men who was trying to stop him. It connected. It connected so hard, it broke in half. The man went down and did not get back up.
Wren placed her hand inside her leather jacket.
Then the crazy one had a new weapon, a broken and serrated piece of heavy-duty plastic. He used it like a machete and sliced at the other man who’d attempted to stop him. It also connected and cut the man’s face badly. He swung it again. Wren saw blood go flying, and the man clutched at his throat with both hands to stop the bleeding. She knew he wouldn’t live from that wound. He was going to bleed out in about a minute.
“Shit,” Brannon said and took a step forward.
“Stop!” she warned and grabbed his forearm. “Don’t go over there.”
She watched in horror as the man pulled the carnival wo
rker from behind the shooting game right across the counter and began pounding on him, too. He kicked him in the head once he was down. People began running. The psycho reached behind the game counter and picked something up. When he came back over it, he was wielding a pipe in one hand and a five-inch knife in the other. It still had the apple the carnie was peeling stuck in it. He flicked his wrist and sent the apple flying away.
“Let’s get outta’ here!” someone screamed.
“He’s got a knife!” someone else yelled.
“Terrorist!” was being screamed by others as they fled. There were thousands of people in attendance at this festival. This was bound to turn into a stampede. People were going to trample one another.
Brannon stepped forward again.
“No! Let’s go! Come on. Now!” she ordered above the melee and tugged at his jacket.
The psycho with two weapons heard her and his reddened eyes zeroed in on Wren.
“Shit, he’s coming,” Brannon blurted and grabbed her hand.
He ran fast. She kept up. Then he ran faster than her, so she picked up the pace.
“Where are you parked?”
“Um…”
Think. Remember. Calm down. None of that was working. The training, the years of training, were not kicking in.
“Where?” he asked as they dodged the crowd now in a full-blown panic of thousands of people. Some were getting knocked down.
“A bar!” she yelled above the panicking crowd. “An Irish one.”
“O’Brien’s,” he said, obviously knowing the place and changed their direction.
“Yeah, I think that was it,” she said as he helped her over a road blockade that was set up to direct traffic and keep vehicles off the main streets where the festival was set up.
In the distance, a shot was fired. It caused her to startle, but it didn’t cause her to stop. They just kept going.
When they got to the dark alley, he slowed his pace so they didn’t trip or fall.
“Where’s your car?”
“I walked here,” he said. “I didn’t need to drive. I just live up the road, remember?”
