Page 9 of Guarded By Death

"Yeah, yeah." He waves goodbye and heads back to his friends. I make a shy wave towards the group as we walk away.

We're walking side by side down the long stretch of the pier. Pierce's arm is still around me. Ice creams in hand. The warm summer air melts them faster than we can eat them. I watch as he licks the ice cream that dripped on his fingers, quickly looking away before he notices me staring.

I look around, trying to think of something to talk about but my attention is drawn in front of me to the sinking sun that slowly descends into the ocean.

It’s really a romantic sight, and I begin to wonder about Pierce’s bold move of throwing his arm around my waist after hearing another guy ask what I wanted for dinner. "How did you know he wasn't my boyfriend?" I ask quizzically.

He shrugs. "I didn't."

I bite my lip to refrain from giggling like an idiot. As we finish our melted cones carnival workers begin to yell for Pierce, challenging him to win their overpriced prizes. He looks over at me, "I was planning on playing to win you something before we left," he laughs and I give him a soft smile.

"You don't have to win me anything," I assure him, but the gesture is sweet.

He moves his hand from my waist to the small of his back as he guides me to the bearded man at the ring toss booth. "It's rigged, they're always rigged," I say quietly as Pierce hands the man cash. An amused laugh escapes Pierce’s full lips, accompanied by a boastful glint in his eyes.

The bearded man pockets the money. "Ten bucks gets you five rings. Here you go," he hands the plastic rings to Pierce. "Make one and the pretty lady can choose anything on the small rack here,” he gestures to the bottom shelf.

Pierce extends his arm, doing a few fake shots before asking, "How many do I have to make for the that?" He gestures his hand to a large, plush pink bear that hangs from the wooden roof. The worker laughs, "Five rings, perfect game, but you may want to get a bigger set... it's hard to even get one."

Pierce lines up his shot, tossing one after the other. Ting, ting, ting, ting, ting. Perfect game.

He gives the worker a cocky look, "Pick whatever you want Scar," he tells me, his dimpled grin melting me. My fingers land on the large pink bear he spotted.

The man hands it to me, and I look over at pierce. "Thank you!" I squeal, squeezing my oversized bear in the process.

He looks down at me with a half-grin adorning his already perfect face, making him look even more beautiful underneath the colorful carnival lights around us.

Our strides are matched as he slows his pace to keep up with mine. We bypass the faster rides, and I'm thankful. My stomach is already doing flips just from the turn of events my night has taken from him being so close to me.

To my left I see a familiar tent set up, I've passed by it so many times but never gave much thought to having my future read. I walk a little slower to read the sign.

‘Mrs. Cleo's Fortunes. $5.’

"You stopped walking." I didn't realize. "Do you want to go inside?"

I ponder this for a moment, I do. I'm curious but will he think it's weird? I'll just go another time, maybe with Liv. "I'm fine," I tell him, I go to walk forward but he gently tugs me back.

His eyes twinkle as I look up at him. "Seriously, I don't mind. Let's go." And with that, we walk through the bead laced doors and into a dimly lit, purple room.

It has your stereotypical decor, a purple crystal ball in the center of a small table, 'ancient' relics from long ago that hold magic, and to finish off the look; a woman with a colorful scarf wrapped around her head is looking at us expectantly. Like she knew we would be coming, of course. I chuckle a little at the sight.

She gestures to the chairs with a serious expression, bowing her head. “Sit.”

Six

Take my advice

Ihave to stifle a laugh as Pierce sits beside me, his lean frame towering over the tiny table. Looking at the fortune teller, I note how her gold hoop earrings shimmer under the deep purple lighting. "What did you two lovers come in for?" she asks, and I blush.

I don't know how to answer that. "We're... we-," Pierce cuts me off, saving me from my embarrassment. Thank heavens for him.

"She'd like a reading," he tells her.

The woman holds out her hand. "Money first."

Pierce reaches for his wallet; I quickly slip the woman the five dollars and he looks at me with a humored yet annoyed expression.

"Give me your hand, young lady," she says, her thick accent taking up the tiny room.

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