Page 10 of Guarded By Death

I place my hand in hers and she closes her eyes. Her cold fingertips trace the lines on my palm. "You're destined for greatness," she smiles.

Her head turns to Pierce, but her eyes are still closed. "Now yours," she holds her other hand out to Pierce, he hesitates but I nudge him with my elbow.

The moment he places his large hand in hers she abruptly pulls away. Her eyes fling open and she shoots up from her seat, the sound of her metal chair scratching the floor pierces through the room.

"This one is no good," she looks at me, but she's talking about Pierce.

"Huh?" I ask, tilting my head forward. Pierce gestures to the door as he stands himself.

She turns her gaze to Pierce, the apologetic eyes she used on me have run away, the smoldering expression she looks at him with sends chills down my spine.

"You are smothered in the depths of evil, you will bring nothing but trouble to this girl’s life." She steps away from him, her voice trembling, "you will just ruin this poor girl."

Feeling uncomfortable, I make my way to Pierce’s side and look to him. “She just wants your money," he fumes, looking down at me; then he turns his attention to her. "Don't scare her," he orders, his voice taking on an edge.

The teller grips the crumpled bills before throwing the money at us. "Take my advice," she says, her attention directed at me.

"She won't be doing that." Pierce informs her.

Why did she say that?

Without another word Pierce interlaces our fingers together, holding me in his large hand in a protective manner as he leads us out of the small purple tent and towards the bright, towering Ferris wheel.

Calm smothers me at his touch. "Well, that was weird," I chuckle.

Raising his dark brows, he shakes his head, "Weird is right."

We stand in line at the Ferris wheel and I look over to the ticket booth. "Did you already get tickets?" I ask, trying to ignore the weird conversation we just had with the woman.

He reaches into his pockets and holds up two tickets between his fingers. "I wanted to be prepared.”

I internally swoon. "That's so thoughtful, thank you. You didn't have to do all this for me. You did enough last night.”

“You’re up!” The attendant yells out over the carnival style music.

My eyes widen as Pierce helps me into the baby blue bucket. It’s heavily weathered from the saltwater air rusting it throughout the years. It loudly creaks as we lift up.

Instinctively, I scoot a little closer to Pierce, afraid of the creaking metal as the wind blows us back and forth.

I clutch the soft bear to my chest in comfort and Pierce chuckles before slinging his arm around me. "You're perfectly safe, I promise. Do heights frighten you?" he speaks with a calming tone.

"Not usually, but this thing is just ancient." I point at the chipped blue paint and the rusted arms that are holding the bucket and he laughs. "The views are worth it though," I admit as my eyes roam the familiar ocean. The sailboats are anchoring for the night and the lights from the pier dance on the darkening waves.

We both admire the views in comfortable silence, and I begin to wonder why he showed up so randomly. I'm not complaining, I’m happy to be by his side. But why was he so interested? He only met me when I was loopy last night, still, I feel a magnetic charge between us and I'm wondering if he feels it too.

Curiosity gets the best of me, "So what made you come here tonight?" I ask nervously.

"You seemed very sweet last night. You kept thanking me and I was interested in knowing more about you.” His emerald eyes look over me, making my cheeks heat. The golden light from the setting sun makes his skin glisten.

"I'm glad you came," I tell him, scooting a little closer to his warm body. This is not like me, at all. Flirting with a stranger I don't even know. I push the thoughts back since my interest for this man is outweighing the comfortable bubble that I've placed around myself to never let anyone get too close.

I realize I don't even know where he's from or his age. He looks around my age, but his demeanor seems way more mature. "Do you go to school around here?" I ask. He looks slightly thrown off by my question which only intensifies my curiosity.

Shaking his head with a dimpled grin, he replies, "No."

"Oh," I breathe, not sure what to talk about. He seems like he doesn't want to open up. I nervously tap my fingers on my leg.

"How old are you?" I ask, hoping this is more casual, even though the school question wasn't serious.

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