Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Scar cursed again, but he went.
The roller coaster was different from bumper cars. The bumper cars could be controlled. This was total surrender.
At the crest, the air changed, the wind built, and space opened.
Then the drop.
His stomach lifted into his throat as his world was reduced to speed, gravity, and the rush of air in his face.
He couldn’t see the curve coming, but he felt it in the clanking track, and the way everyone’s screams heightened at the exact same time.
Scar was screaming too.
He hollered through the drop, wild and breathless, holding on for dear life and to this joy he hoped would never end.
When they stumbled off, his whole body buzzed like a live wire. He turned toward Scar, pointing in his face. “I didn’t know you could scream that high.”
“I wasn’t screaming,” Scar said hoarsely.
“Then what do you call it? I could hear you over the little girls behind me.”
“I was whistling,” Scar growled. “Now shut up.”
“You were whistling, ‘Stop! I wanna get off! I wanna get off!’”
Scar bit him on his cheek, before he smiled against his throat.
They walked like a couple, hands linked, Scar navigating them through the dense parts of the crowd without making it feel like guiding.
He passed a vendor booth that smelled like hot caramel, sticky sweet and mouthwatering.
“Are those candy apples over there?” he asked.
Scar stopped. “Yep.”
“I want one.”
“You’re gorging. All this sugar’s gonna’ make you sick.”
“So what?” He pressed into Scar’s chest, hovering his mouth against his. “You denying me?”
Scar slid his arms around his back and pulled him closer. “You trying to wrap me around your little finger?”
Gage smiled and nodded. “Is it working?”
Scar kissed him and murmured a single word, “Yes.”
They walked until he was almost finished with his apple when he heard balloons popping.
He slowed. “I used to love that game.”
“The balloon darts?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna play?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “What are the prizes?”
Scar sucked his teeth. “Stupid shit. Lots of little stuffed animals, and on the top tier is a giant neon tiger, a purple dinosaur with glitter eyes, and a four-foot shark.”
He turned toward Scar, hoping his face showed a decent enough pout.
“Don’t do that. You’re an assassin for fuck’s sake.”
Gage held the expression.
Scar rumbled before he led him toward the booth.
The carnie greeted them obnoxiously. “Step right up and test your aim! Pop ’em all, win big! Win huge!”
The darts were placed into Scar’s hand.
“I’m not playing…he is.”
Scar put all six into his palm.
The booth went quiet in a way Gage could feel. Then the whispers started.
He leaned his cane against the low counter. He heard the little gasps, the mutters, people shuffling closer, trying to figure out what they were seeing.
Gage smiled toward the carnie’s voice. “To keep it fair, since everybody else can see the balloons, can I feel the board first? Then I’ll step back over and shoot like everyone else.”
Scar cut in, his voice hard as if daring the guy to say no. “Sounds more than fair.”
Someone nearby echoed, “That’s fair.”
Another voice, “Yeah, let him.”
Gage didn’t wait for permission. He planted one hand on the counter and cleared it in a single leap.
The crowd swelled even more.
He reached out and grazed his open hands over the balloons. Some spots were empty from already being popped, others had decent sized clusters. He mapped the board in seconds, then smoothly hopped back over the barrier.
A woman close by whispered, “That guy’s cool as hell, and hot.”
Gage grinned at the shot to his ego.
The carnie cleared his throat. “All right then. Two balloons gets you a small prize. Four, you get one from the mid-tier, and six, you win big.”
“Got it.”
Then the carnie added, “If you hit one, I’ll still give you something.”
“Hey,” Scar snapped. “Don’t fuckin’ do that. He don’t need a fuckin’ pity gift.”
Gage reached out and touched Scar’s shoulder in a quiet signal. It’s fine.
Scar shut his mouth, but Gage could still feel his protective anger.
He stepped back from the counter, paused, then kept going.
The crowd’s hushed murmurs escalated.
The throwing line was at the counter, roughly fifteen feet from the board, Gage stopped around forty feet away.
He tipped his head slightly, ear toward the board, as the sounds from the booth heightened. He could hear the smallest movements, the balloons swaying with the wind, the carnie’s breathing, the crowd holding still.
He lifted the first dart.
Threw.
Pop.
Followed immediately by another dart.
Pop.
He didn’t pause to celebrate. He fed the throws in rhythm, four more in rapid succession, each one a clean release, each one landing where his memory and hearing told him it would.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The crowd erupted.
Gage held his hand.
Scar slapped six more darts into his palm.
He did it again with the same method of ease and calm. But the last two, he threw together, resulting in two simultaneous pops.
The crowd lost its mind.
A massive, furry something that was heavy and ridiculous was shoved into his arms.