Page 19 of Eden's Joker

But she doesn’t even look my way. Which is agood thing, since I don’t want her to know I’m stalking her. But I stupidly still wish she’d seen me.

She gets in her silver car and drives off slowly.

So much for my great plan of keeping watch on her all day. My bike’s miles away. I can’t follow her.

Good thing I’m real good at stealing. Cars included. So five minutes later, I caught up to her on an empty country road in an old model Ford I didn’t even have to try hard to boost. The idiot owner just left the keys in the ignition. Gotta love small towns and how everyone wants to feel so safe in them that they leave their cars, and their house unlocked all the time.

She didn’t go far.

Just to her parents' house—a two floor family home with a steepled roof and a white picket fence. Looking at it, you’d never guess a man who ruined as many lives and childhoods as Ice has lives here. I kinda got lost in the black vortex of remembering my own ruined childhood and Ice’s role in it, while I watched him eat dinner with his family. I half expected someone to call the cops on a strange, bearded guy sitting in a car on this peaceful residential street. But no one did.

Eventually it got dark. Ice and Eden came out to the street-facing porch and enjoyed a nice bit of father-daughter bonding. Seeing that made me happy. Because it proved I’d been right to choose her as my target. She’s definitely daddy’s girl.

But it made me sad too.

And I have no idea why.

13

Eden

After we left our parents’ house, I dropped Summer off at The Horse’s Mouth bar where Edge was already waiting for her. She fell into his arms as soon as she saw him and didn’t move for the rest of the time. And as much as they insisted I stay for a couple of drinks, I could see how much they wanted to be alone. Since the bar is only a couple of yards from my apartment, they let me leave alone.

The night air is cool against my skin, but it’s making me feel calm for the first time today. Since my dad’s early morning phone call, I’ve been on the go all day. Talking on the phone, first with Summer, then Mom and my aunt Roxie, and then Summer some more. Harper and Veronica also called, the lattersending over a list of good psychiatrists in the area that Summer might want to talk to.

Veronica’s sister Ariel was trafficked about five years ago, so she set up a foundation to help victims and has a ton of contacts in the field. I thanked her and passed the info over to Summer, who is still insisting she’s fine and that the whole thing was over before she even had time to realize anything was wrong. I so hope she’s right, but with everything I know about the hell victims go through in the aftermath, I’m afraid she can’t possibly be.

The nighttime walk also calmed me enough to think back on the curt way I cancelled my date with Tyler. And how I refused to set up another. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then I spent all day thinking about him in one way or another, so maybe it’s not. No guy has ever occupied my thoughts quite as completely as he does. He’s just always in there, some of my thoughts coming in his voice as though I’ve known him for ages and not just the past couple of weeks.

I should give him a chance. I want to find out where a connection like that leads. Maybe nowhere. Maybe everywhere. I’m hoping for the latter. But I’m fully aware happy endings like that are only real in books.

I stop under a street lamp and search in my oversized bag for my phone. As usual, it takes me a coupleof minutes to find it under all the books, pens, receipts, and miscellaneous pieces of paper in there.

He hasn’t texted. I’d hoped for another good night text, but didn’t really expect it.

I’m sorry about this morning. I’d love to see you again.

I press send before rereading it or as much as sparing a single tiny thought on the words I chose. They came from the heart. That’s good enough.

How about right now?

The answer just appears, with no beep or buzz, because the screen of my phone hasn’t even gone dark yet.

My heart is thumping in my chest, sounding like a gong. It only grows louder, as I write back,OK, where?

Your bookstore? I’m near.

A bunch of questions are sounding in my head, some of them pleasant, some not so much. I ignore the ones telling me I should be careful, that I should think this through, and the loudest of them all,Is he following me around?

He must know where my bookstore is from the videos that went viral. He might just truly be nearby.

Yes, come over.

My fingers just type that on their own. And my hands are shaking like I’m freezing cold once I stare at the sent text that I can’t take back anymore. And the answer:I’ll be there in 5.

I consider cancelling. Locking myself in my apartment with all the lights off and not answering the door when he shows up.

But there’s only one question left in my brain and it’s loud:Didn’t you want to live more dangerously, Eden?

---