Page 134 of Married with Mayhem

But I cannot explain why the sight of him makes me so uneasy, or why he stirs some inner instinct attuned to threats.

Our gazes lock over a significant distance, or at least I think they do. The way he lowers his head in haste probably has nothing to do with me, nor does the fact that he begins rapidly walking in the opposite direction until he disappears into a swarm of people.

The Ferris Wheel begins moving again and that fleeting sense of dread disappears. However, I’m glad when we finally reach the bottom and my feet are back on solid ground and I’m holding Monte’s hand again.

We visit the game booths and I win a heart-shaped keychain when I successfully toss a golf ball into a narrow bottle. Monte aces the shooting games and he tells me to pick which of the hanging plush toys I want. I choose a pink cat. It matches my dress.

But when we step away from the booth, a figure hovers at the corner of my eye. I turn my head and see a man’s broad back retreating. He’s dark-haired and wearing a dark jacket. There’s nothing remarkable about him. It’s only because I remember the man watching us on the Ferris Wheel that I continue to stare until he vanishes.

“Want to leave soon?” Monte says.

“Yeah.” I squeeze his hand. “I think I’ve had my fill of funnel cakes and creaky rides. Thank you for bringing me.”

He pulls me in for a kiss and then hands me my prize pink cat, which I’ve already named Cupcake.

“Let’s take a walk when we get back to the cabin,” he says.

“In the dark?”

He grins. “I’ll carry you.”

“You’ve got yourself a date.” I pull on his hand as we reach the parking lot. “As long as I can grab a sweater first.”

“Brina, I encourage you to grab anything you want.”

“That sounds highly suggestive.”

“It’s supposed to.”

He’s not expecting me to reach out and tickle his belly and he cracks up with laughter.

We’re both distracted, laughing, having too much fun, when a group of teenage boys runs right into us, whooping and shouting. One of them snatches Cupcake right out of my hand and takes off.

“Hey!” Monte shouts and chases after the kid, weaving between cars and carnival revelers.

“Monte, come back!” While I appreciate the chivalry, I don’t want him fighting some teenager over a stuffed toy. But he doesn’t hear me. He’s already gone.

I’m standing in a wide dirt aisle between rows of cars and craning my neck for a glimpse of Monte. A car honks at my back and I step out of the way to let it pass.

Just when I’m about to call Monte’s phone, he reappears. He’s marching through the darkness and he’s grinning. He holds up Cupcake in victory.

He’s completely focused on me. That’s why doesn’t see what I’m seeing.

The man is the same man who watched us from the Ferris Wheel. I didn’t see his face then and I don’t see it now because he has covered it with a black ski mask but I know it’s him. He’s like a wraith bred from the darkness and he’s staring at Monte. I know what he’s going to do before he does it and my reaction is instant.

It’s an understatement to say I’m not a fast runner. My best effort at running is more like a breezy trot that a turtle could probably outpace.

I’ve read that panic does wild things to people. That’s nothing compared to what love does. For the first time in my life I can run like the wind. The distance between me and Monte shrinksto ten feet. He skids to a halt, confused and alarmed as to why I’m barreling his way with the speed of an Olympic sprinter.

The man in the ski mask has also moved, stealthily closing in. He wants to make sure he doesn’t miss. He raises his arm. A split second later, I crash right into Monte’s chest.

A single gunshot rings out. Being shot doesn’t feel like you might expect. There’s a sense that I’ve been punched from behind, then the shock of understanding it wasn’t a punch at all.

Three more shots crack through the air and these are much closer to my ear. Monte has fired his gun. He’s an excellent shot. I trust that he has aimed well.

And he must have succeeded in taking down our attacker because he’s no longer looking in that direction. He’s looking down at me. The horror on his face breaks my heart. I’m so sorry to be the cause and yet I’m glad that I’m the one who got hit instead of him.

“No no no, Brina, NO!” He cradles me as my legs give out.

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