Page 77 of Scythe & Sparrow
“Good?”
She grins. “They’regreat, actually. He’s kind of amazing. It might be a while before my parents and sister warm up to him completely, but my auntie Ethel adores him. Even Bentley seems to like him.”
“They do share a similar level of grump.”
Lark lets out a breath of a laugh. “They do. Bonded by asshattery.”
“You’re all crafty and stuff,” I say. “You should make an Etsy shop. Sell fancy handmade hats. Call it the Asshattery. ‘Hats for asses.’”
“Oh myGod. That’s an amazing idea.” Lark’s eyes are so bright that sparks could tumble from them and I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s absolutely buzzing. “Lachlan might not love the idea,” she says, a sudden frown flashing across her face to be swept away again just a blink later, “but you’ve totally got my creative juices flowing.”
I snort. “I know about your juices.” I toast her with my coffee cup, waggling my brows as I lower my voice to a whisper and say, “Yourmurderjuices.”
“What?” she hisses as she leans across the table, gripping its edge, her eyes darting around us before landing on me and narrowing. “How did you know about that? Did Lachlan tell you? I’m going to stab that Budget Batman in his neoprene balls.”
“I … don’t know about the neoprene balls part,” I say, my face scrunching before I shake it off. “But it was a lucky guess. A stab in the dark, if you will.”
Lark’s mouth drops open, her cheeks flushed. “How? How the fuck did you know that?”
I hold up a hand and tick fingers off as I list my points. “Best friends with Sloane, who killed that jerkoff who kicked her in the face. You’re buddies with Rowan, her equally murdery husband. Lachlan gives off hot tatted assassin vibes. You like crafts, I assume that probably has something to do with it. Simple deduction.” Lark’s mouth is still hanging ajar when I reach across the table and pat her arm. “Don’t worry. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty cool with it. Which might be part of my … current problems.”
My gaze drops to my half-full cup, but I still feel the weight of Lark’s attention on my face. “Oh.Ohhh.” Lark sits back in her chair, her body relaxing in my peripheral vision. “And Fionn isnotso cool with it.”
“Yeah,” I say, turning my spoon over on the saucer, watching my warped reflection on the silver surface. “Being on the road … being the way I am … It’s hard to find someone. Even harder when you’re not afraid of the dark. I thought maybe I did find someone, this time.”
When I meet her eyes, the smile we share is bittersweet. “You did. You’ve got me, always. You’ve got Sloane. We’re not afraid of the dark. And we’re not going anywhere.”
This moment is the first one where I’ve felt any real relief since everything spiraled out of control last night. I know with the way Lark looks not just at me, but rightintome, that she means it.
Conversation gets a little easier after that. The weight in my chest eases. We talk about Sloane and Rowan and their mini honeymoon to Martha’s Vineyard. We make plans to meet up at the circus while Silveria is in town for the next few days if we can get our schedules to line up. She texts Sloane to make sure she’ll be able to come to my show. One last chance to say goodbye. We order another couple coffees, a croissant each. We talk about her married life, how their stars are finally aligning. We laugh and smile. And time ticks down to the last moment. I feel its hammer in every heartbeat.
“I’m going to miss you,” Lark says, reaching across the table to take my hand.
“I’m going to miss you too,” I reply. I smile, but it’s fragile. Ready to break. “You know what they say about the circus.”
“What, that the show must go on?”
“No. That the show can’t begin until you jump.”
Lark’s expression seems to clear. She watches me, her eyes fixed to mine, a soft smile forming at the corners of her lips. My phone buzzes on the table and my heart skips over itself. A rush of nerves roils in my guts as I read the short message. Just two simple words.Parked outside.
“Doc’s here.” I pocket my phone. “Guess I’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger.” With a few final goodbyes and a crushing hug, I pull away and place a kiss on Lark’s cheek and leave the coffee shop, swallowing down the tears that climb the back of my throat.
Fionn is parked at the curb, waiting in his rental vehicle. He pops the trunk as I draw close and I toss my backpack inside next to his. I remember the first time I rode anywhere with him. The way he slid his arm around my waist. The strength with which he lifted me inside his truck.
Anything I should know before we do this?he’d asked before we drove away.
Maybe if I’d just said something then, my chest wouldn’t ache so much now. I wouldn’t be hesitating as I shut the lid of the trunk, slowing my steps as I walk closer to the front of the car. Though I hate the thought of making life harder for Fionn, I think the pain I feel now was worth it. It hurts because it was real. It’s how I know the truth. The only one that matters.
I’m in love with Fionn Kane.
And it’s too late to ever tell him.
“Hey,” I say as I slide onto the passenger seat.
I can feel Fionn watching me as I pull the seat belt across my body and clip it in. When we still haven’t pulled away from the curb, I return his gaze.
“Hi,” he finally says.
