Page 68 of Unspoken Promises

Who isthis man I’m becoming? Save me a ride on the Ferris wheel? What am I? Seventeen? Why the hell did I say that?

I told myself I wouldn’t say anything to Ava anymore that I wouldn’t say to Debbie. But when she said she’d be going with Callum and some of the guys, I thought about the pool again, and the possessive, protective part of me took hold.

I excuse the corny move because me spending time with her at the fair means I’m doing what I said I’d do. After the pool incident, I told myself I’d keep an eye on her and I know how well I did that from afar that evening. I don’t want to be ten feet back in an environmentlike that. Too much mayhem. Too many hands. Beers flowing freely with the boys.

No. It’s better if I’m by her side where I can make sure she’s safe and no other prick in this town touches her. Not until I genuinely know she’s safe from whatever this is lurking behind her. After she tells me everything, I can stand down. And after I don’t want her so badly for myself.

It’s not my place to think that way. I’ll need to get over this. I will. Eventually.

I can already imagine time with her in a place like a fair. If she sparkles at the mere warmth of the sunshine soaking into her back on a horse ride, she will radiate at a place like the fair. What most people take for granted, Ava savors. It’s almost like she never got a chance to live before, which has my mind wandering to her problem.

Maybe she didn’t get to live. Maybe she ran from an abusive relationship. Maybe she saw something she shouldn’t have and someone needs her gone. Since working at GhostEye, and even with witness protection, I’ve seen it all. I know she’s hiding. I just need to figure out from whom.

Since I told her my story, her amber eyes have shifted. I feel she’s closer to me now and I laugh to myself thinking Santi was actually right about something. I gave some trust first, and it’s changed things for the better. I think she’ll tell me soon. In the meantime, I’ve seen as much as I need to know she’s not here to cause trouble at GhostEye. In fact, she may just be its savior.

For one night, we both need to breathe easy. It’s been stressful to say the least, trying to find the source of the hacks together and at the same time feeling like there’s some ticking time bomb in the background. For the hacks as much as my sense of urgency to help her.

But tomorrow, I intend to treat her to some relaxation. Ican already see her on top of that Ferris wheel. She’ll breathe deeply the way she does as if inhaling a dozen roses. She might even close her eyes, something she does when she’s trying to experience life fully. She’ll love it, and I can already envision her bright smile and gorgeous lips spreading into a Hollywood smile.

I love making her smile.

It makes me want to do it, too, and it’s not exactly my MO.

I feel more alive around her, even more now since I was able to tell her about Diego. A weight has lifted off my shoulders sharing that with someone who seems to understand.

Maybe we can be friends, though the thought of that somehow feels like settling for second place.

The next day doesn’t come fast enough. Dad, Santi, and I walk through the crowds of people and clouds of blue cotton candy.

We’re headed to the dunk tank where Santi has been eagerly leading us in between pit stops for Dad to pick up cream puffs, popcorn, or frankly whatever food is on offer.

I can see the tank just ahead when Dad gets lured in yet again by the aroma of something sweet in a stall. “Hold on…manzanas acarameladas…” He rubs his hands together. “Just a little taste test…”

“Dad,” Santi complains, “if you eat one more thing, we’re going to have to roll you out of here.”

“I can get one to go.” He heads to the table to inspect the various flavors of toffee apples.

I take the opportunity to scan every passerby and face behind giant stuffed animals, searching for Ava.

A sly smile spreads on my brother’s face from under his cowboy hat. “Looking for Red?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

“Why don’t you just admit you’re down hard for her and go for it?” he asks.

This conversation is apparently more interesting than caramel apples, and Dad’s gaze turns on me, eyes widening with the same question.

“She’s too young for me, one. Works for me for, two.”

“So the fuck what?” Santi shrugs. “You don’t have a no-fraternizing policy.”

I’m surprised he has that information. “How do you know?”

He slaps Dad on the arm. “He checked.”

It’s Dad’s turn to shrug. “What? You two would be cute together. I wanted to see if it was legal or whatever.”

I roll my eyes.

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