Page 8 of Bad Seed
“How much?” I ask paying no attention to what I’m buying.
“Thirty-five.”
“Dollars?” I gasp, turning to see this gold-plated ball cap. The sides are the same purple as everything else around here and thin as hell. The bill feels like it’s made out of cardboard. But what nearly makes me groan is the saying emblazoned on the front—Big Eggplant Energywith an embroidered eggplant in the middle.
I reach to put it back. Green appears just on the edge of my vision.
Ramming the hat onto my head, I drop a fifty into the guy’s hand. “Thanks, keep the change!” I cry out like I’m overcome with celebratory spirit. Pulling the flimsy brim down as far over my eyes as it can go, I duck around to the back of the stalls.
In the distance, I spot a bandstand where people are converging. I could try to hide in the crowd. We aren’t supposed to do anything surrounded by people. It’d draw too much attention. But then, I’ve never dealt with a traitor before so all his precious rules could be off the table. Still, it might be my best chance. Keep with them, wait for the Bells to get bored and wander off.
Then pack and run. Maybe go north. Do they have eggplant festivals in Canada?
Tipping my chin down so far I can barely see, I hunch my shoulders, stuff my hands in my pockets, and work my way for the crowd. Most of the time, people are trouble. Unpredictable. The only thing more dangerous than a trained killer is a wild drunk. I stuff down every instinct telling me to run in the other direction. Right now, I need people.
I wonder what they’re going to see. The air smells heady. Not the usual fair foods of fried anything and sugared everything else. More like… Cheese, tomato, oregano…
Eggplant.
My legs give out. I plummet to a bench tucked beside a yellow building.
They’re eating eggplant up there. Hundreds of them. Chowing down on fried eggplant. Boiled eggplant. Mashed and mutilated eggplant!
My skin recoils even as my salivary glands water at the scents. Living off of protein bars and ramen for months has me aching to sprint up there and try a piece. It’d be like eating my own finger. No!
I shake my head, trying to knock sense into my brain when I catch an eggplant. It’s being held reverently in the air like a newborn baby. I scoot across the bench, not realizing until that moment that I’m not alone.
Just as my hand lands on the back of the seat, her head turns.
“It’s you!”
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CHAPTER FIVE
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SADIE
“It’s you!”
I can’t believe it, the man that saved my life, sitting right beside me.
He smiles and I want to evaporate into the air. Here he is in a tight black t-shirt, tighter jeans, and a truck hat while I’m in the baggiest, purplest polo on the planet. The amount of makeup I bothered with was a swipe of Dr. Pepper chapstick from Ann’s stash and my hair’s blowout was thanks to a rolled-down window.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” slips from my mouth.At least not like this.Why couldn’t it be all the times I put on a dress, and heels, and false eyelashes?
Oh shit. Oh fuck.He dips his head down, then he gazes up at me with eyes so glittering and black I want to pluck them out and wear them as a brooch.Okay. Getting kinda weird there. Calm down.
I claw my nails up my jeans, losing myself in the sensation of denim tugging back. What should be calming is only drawing his attention. I slap my hand to my thigh to stop. Then I do the worst thing imaginable.
I open my mouth.
“Thank you. For all you did. I thought I was a goner, but thanks to you they were able to heal me all up.”
His dusky rose lips quirk to the side. They glow against his tan like they want all the attention on his face. “I’m glad,” he says as if he’s lain awake at night for a whole week worrying about me.
I may have laid in bed thinking of him and his massive hand. It did a hell of a lot more than slam a needle into my thigh, I’ll say that much.Um…
