I slip back into the flow of the people walking through the fairgrounds. I don’t have to look behind me to know the man is following me. If I look back, I’m liable to trip or something. Or freak myself all the way fucking out.
Probably both.
My heart is pounding in my chest as my mind races. That dog needed help, not to be sold. Was that even what I saw? I don’t know what was in the envelope. But what else makes sense?
I’m frantically looking around for something. Someone. Anything.
When my gaze locks on my dad, I suck in a sharp breath and it’s like everything clicks into place. Dad has been trying to track a dog fighting ring. It’s been hopping between counties and always seems a few steps ahead. He’s been practically beside himself because of it.
From what I’ve heard, because he would never tell me a damn thing about his cases, there haven’t been any leads, and they have no idea who is behind it all.
The dog I just saw, how it thrashed and bared its teeth, has me practically running toward Dad. His eyes widen slightly when he notices me, but then I’m there, my words breathless, “Dad, Ithink I just saw something. But then he saw me and I’m sure he’s following me.”
I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment, trying to find the feeling of safety being with my dad should give me. Not just any dad either; the Sheriff. But I don’t have that feeling. Panic is still clawing up my throat and it’s not going away. It’s growing stronger.
When I glance around, I see the carnie. He’s watching me, but he keeps his distance. I’m sure it will only last as long as this conversation does. It’s a scary thought.
The look my dad gives me is patronizing as fuck and ice fills my veins. “Ezra,” his tone is supercilious, like he’s doing me a favor, “you’re not making any sense. You need to calm down.”
“I can show you,” I start and hold up my camera, but he’s already waving his hand dismissively.
“You should grab a bottle of water and hydrate.” He eyes me before adding, “You look flushed.”
My mouth falls open and I shake my camera slightly, as if the action would be enough for him to give a shit about me. You’d think the badge he wears with such pride would garner me a moment of his consideration, at least.
With a pat to my shoulder, he walks away, muttering something I don’t quite catch. That could have something to do with the ringing in my ears. I don’t glance at where I saw the carnie last and walk, quickly, back toward the tent and table.
Which is stupid because I don’t want this man around my kids. But where else can I go?
The way my heart is hammering against my sternum can’t be healthy. I feel like I’m about to pass out and everything is sharp and fuzzy at the same time.
“Ezra,” large hands land on my shoulders as a man’s voice washes over me.
Something happens. Something that should have happened the moment I spotted my dad. The panic ebbs and the feeling of being safe pulls me back from the edge.
My gaze snaps up to meet the gray eyes of Ryker.
“Hey,” his eyebrows pull together and he looks over my head, which isn’t difficult to do, like he’s hunting for the source of whatever he sees on my face, “what’s going on? Are you okay? You look really freaked the fuck out.”
“I need to talk to you,” I whisper the words even though they sound loud in my own head. “In private,” my eyes dart around, and I stiffen when I see the carnie again, my tone turning pleading, “please.”
“Okay,” he sounds skeptical, but he still leads me in the opposite direction of the YIG tent, his hand on my lower back grounds me when I need it most.
I allow him to lead me through the crowd without even thinking about it. It feels natural in a way I’m not used to; there’s trust between us that I only feel with a few people. A very few people.
Maybe I’m just in shock.
At the very least, I thought my dad would keep me safe. He might have had high expectations of me, and there were times when it felt like there was nothing that I could do to live up tothem, but I never thought to question whether he would protect me.
Now I’m questioning everything.
He’s never listened to me, not really, unless it aligned with what he wanted and the image he was hellbent on protecting.
Dad barely even looked at me but didn’t notice how freaked out I was. I know I wasn’t making a lot of sense, but shouldn’t he have been concerned? Ryker took one look at my face and asked me what was wrong.
That has to count for something. I feel like I’m about to throw up until the moment I’m able to sit down. When I do, I look around realizing Ryker led me to the Ferris Wheel.
“You seemed out of it,” Ryker says and I blink up at him, “but we’ll have complete privacy here. No one can overhear and we’ll have a few minutes alone. If we need more time, I’ll bribe the operator.” He smirks and my gaze snaps down to the movement which has heat rushing through it. “He’d take it.”
