Page 130 of Roses in Summer

“Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it,” I mutter to myself, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to talk myself out of peering over the side of the wall for a better look at the speakers in this conversation. Taking a deep breath, I hold it in, letting the oxygen deprivation fuel my decision. Releasing the air slowly, I risk a glance over the side of the wall and immediately snap my head back. Instead of one person with Chris, there are two: a tall man with thick black hair and one with a narrower frame and long blond hair. In their leather cuts and with their backs to me, I have no way of knowing who the people are or how they’re connected to Chris, aside from the very obvious references to a job, a fire, and Prez.

I may not be a genius, but it doesn’t take much to figure out what they’re talking about. Still peering over the side of the wall, I watch as Chris and the taller man continue to talk while the shorter blond man seems to release only grunts. My heart is in my throat as Chris shifts, running a hand over his hair and revealing a tattoo on the underside of his bicep, visible thanks to the short-sleeved shirt he seems to be wearing.

Squinting, I take in the upside-down skeleton with a scythe hanging from an extended left hand and the rope tied around its right foot. Any doubt I may have cast on the conversation I overheard five minutes ago is eradicated at the sight of the hanging skeleton needled into Chris’s arm.

“Jesus,” I murmur, clasping a hand over my mouth as the words leave. Chris and the taller man don’t seem to have heard me, but the small grunter whips his head around and immediately makes eye contact with me.

I back away, hand still over my mouth, as I feel my eyes widen. A slight shake of the blond’s head has me furrowing my brow.

“Ajax?” the tall one says, forcing the blond’s head to turn. “You hear me, man?”

Ajax grunts in response. “Yeah, we should take this out of the fucking library. What are we even doing here? We look like assholes standing in the middle of this old-ass building.”

“I needed to speak with you,” Chris grinds out. “And you know I couldn’t go to the fucking club.”

“And whose fault is that, college boy? Get your shit together.”

“Call me that one more fucking time and watch what happens.” Chris puffs out his chest, stepping right up to Ajax. He has at least three inches and twenty pounds on Ajax’s wiry frame, but something tells me that it’s an uneven fight, with Ajax as the would-be winner.

“Get it together, dickheads. Ajax, we’re leaving. Fade, we’ll see you at the meet-up tomorrow night. Keep your head down and get your shit straightened,” the taller man orders. With that, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving Ajax and Chris alone.

Chris’s face is full of venom. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m going to find out.”

I can’t see Ajax’s expression, but I can hear the sardonic laugh that spills from his mouth. “You’re lucky you’re related to Prez, otherwise your ass would be out. Have fun cleaning shit up, college boy,” he tosses out. I watch in horror as Chris starts to turn in my direction, immediately moving so that my head is once again behind the wall. I’m shocked when Ajax calls to Chris, seemingly getting his attention, and I risk a peek back over the wall. “What are you looking at, asshole?”

“Fuck off, Ajax. I thought I saw someone.”

“Too many ghosts, college boy?”

“What the fuck did I say?”

“Gentlemen? This is a library, not a bar. If you’re going to raise your voices, please do so outside.” May’s librarian tone cuts Chris off, causing both men to turn in her direction. Chris’s face morphs from the sneer from moments ago to the laid-back, easy smile of the boy I knew during my teenage years.

“I’m sorry about that. My friend was just leaving.”

“Young man, I think it’s time for both of you to leave.” May’s voice is curt, brooking no argument.

Chris’s features darken for a moment before they smooth out again. “I have a class project—”

“We’re going.” Ajax’s voice breaks through, silencing Chris again. Ajax reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him from the library and toward the door, where their friend disappeared moments earlier. May and I both watch them leave, and I sigh in relief when the door closes firmly behind them.

I have no idea why that guy Ajax seemed determined to conceal my presence, but I can’t say I’m not grateful.

“Seraphina, you can come out of hiding now,” May calls out, her back to me.

“How did you—” I start, shaking my head and stopping my words, realizing that it doesn’t really matter how she knew I was there. “I need to go to Lincoln.”

“Yes.” She turns her head. “I suspect you do. I recommend ending your shift early today.”

I nod in agreement, though she can’t see me, and head toward the basement. I make it as far as the hallway by the stairs when Lincoln’s voice breaks through my nerves. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” I startle, looking up.

“May came downstairs and gave me a ten-minute speech about respecting your work schedule and then handed me a stack of papers, told me to sort them, and left.”

“We need to go.”

“Seraphina, what happened?” His hands still me when I try to turn toward the door.

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