Page 103 of Painted Scars
Fucking coward. I can charge into a hostile scene with weapons firing, take a bullet, challenge an invincible adversary to war, but I can’t do the simplest gesture for the one person I want more than revenge. Every time I hide, I feel her slip further away.
“If you see the man I really am, the fairytale ends, Glitter Bomb.” I trace her eyelashes and brows. “Midnight strikes, and my Cinderella walks away. That will destroy me worse than any wound the Romans inflicted on me.”
The thump on the glass counter and calling of my name signals our food is ready. It breaks apart our little moment, and stops her from getting a reply in.
Kate gives me enough time to secure my helmet before her eyes slide open and she climbs off my lap, and I lift out of the seat to claim the box and carry it outside, taking her to the liquor store next door to grab a six pack to wash our food down. I booked a rental cabin and I don’t have to drive back to the city until tomorrow. That means Kate’s all mine for the next twenty-four hours, and I’m going to let her deeper into my world.
CHAPTER 29 - AUGUST
“What are you doing?” Kate clasps my arm and glances from side to side, clutching the pizza box to her chest.
“Being morally orange.” I jiggle the side door with the old trick, and it groans like it remembers me, opening a crack. “Are you going to be this grumpy man’s naughty lady?” I extend my hand for her to take.
Her fingers lock around mine. “I’ll do anything if you quote Celine to me and kiss me like you did in the pizzeria.”
She’s back from the fade. Eighty percent, by my guess. Once I get some food into her, she’ll boost another ten. And I’ve got a plan to coax her all the way back.
I guide her inside. The games arcade is a relic from a distant childhood, where the only safe place in the world came with sticky floors and the smell of popcorn. Dim light filters through the frosted window, catching the outlines of pinball machines and claw games that slumber, waiting for someone to switch on the electricity and pump life into them.
“This place is closed for autumn and early winter before the onset of ski season visitors.” I lead her through the back of the arcade where all the machines wait to be serviced or are retired.“Kids sneak in here all the time to play the games. The owner lets them. Better to have them inside than out on the street, causing strife.”
We emerge into the main arcade, decked out in patterned carpet with stars and neon swirls, dulled by age, and relevant to the nineties.
“This is where I came all summer long,” I tell her.
“You hung out here?” She turns in a slow circle, taking it all in. Faded posters of superheroes, cracked plastic stools, the scuffed glass on the pinball machine, shelves of toys and prizes behind the counter.
“Lived here,” I admit, my voice rougher than it’s meant to be. “This was my shelter from bullies. Here, I could breathe and win at something.”
Kate’s expression softens as she passes her palm over an arcade cabinet, wiping dust from the memory. “You were picked on?”
“Yeah. Back then, I was all skinny elbows and no voice.” I stop at the Skee-ball lane, my hand resting on her waist. “The second I hit fourteen, I grew into my body and turned the tables on the bullies. Anyone they picked on came to me for protection.”
“That must be why you’ve got such a strong sense of justice now.” If only she knew.
“Sit. Eat. Moan at the best pizza in Shadow Lake.” I take the box from her to let her sit.
She balances on the edge of the game. “I’ll accept that dare, Grumpy.”
I sit opposite her, open the lid and take a slice, feeding her.
“You’re not eating with me?” The note of disappointment in her voice crushes me.
“Eat first. You’re low on sass.” A promise I won’t break.
She takes a bite and moans dramatically. “Okay. You win. This is illegally good. I see why you rave about it.”
I swipe my thumb across her lip to catch the cheese grease. “You moan like that, and we’re getting arrested for public indecency.” I’m fucking jealous of my thumb when I let her suck it clean.
The world outside doesn’t exist in this moment. No Romans. No ghosts. No masks or darkness. Just us.
Sticking to my promise to give her more of me, I remove my helmet for her, resting it on the inclined lane behind me. Stale air and dust motes floating in the air are heaven after being trapped in that thing.
Her eyes narrow and squint into the darkness. “I can’t see you. You’re a vague silhouette of angled jaw and squashed hair.” She tries to position herself to get the best vantage point to view me in the light or reflections in the machines.
I almost laugh. This spot is strategic. A corner hidden in shadow, the backlight of the front windows too far away to reach us. Where I hid from the bullies if they chased me here.
“I’m giving you small pieces, Glitter Bomb.” I lift the steaming pizza to her, and she knows to respect my boundary.
