Page 46 of Wrecked By a Devil

“You never tried having fries with milkshake?” The disbelief on her face is overwhelming.

“Not really,” I admit.

She shakes her head dramatically. “This is something you absolutely must try in your lifetime. Otherwise it doesn’t count as living.”

“So you’re saying that if I were to drop dead right now without trying it, my ghost will stick around with unfinished business?” I raise an eyebrow, holding back the laughter.

“Of course!” She says. “What did you think?”

“Imagine the title in the news ‘A ghost haunts diner to dip fries in milkshake’?”

“It’s funny that a man as big and scary as you believes in ghosts,” she laughs.

“It’s a concept, Riley,” I lean back in the leather seat, unable to take my eyes off of hers and the way she lights up discussing a ridiculous topic such as ghosts. “It doesn’t have to be real to talk about it.”

As a couple passes next to us, I notice her eyes drift to the watch on the woman’s hand. It’s an Audemars Piguet Royal Oak watch for women. She notices my eyes drifting in the same direction and quickly explains. “I used to draw watches like that on a piece of paper and put it around my wrist when I was little,” she smiles, recalling the memory. “But, hey, one day…”

“One day,” I smile.

“By the way,” she quickly turns back to face me. “This is the first time I’m seeing you like this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I raise an eyebrow playfully, but I’m genuinely enjoying our conversation and wait for her to explain herself.

“Like this,” she points to my casual black polo shirt and black jeans. “Casual. You usually look like you’re on your way to give someone the lesson of their life.”

I lean in closer over the table, and I notice the way she swallows, her eyes falling to my lips and then returning back to look me in the eyes. I smile. “I have an idea,” I say. “Let’s play the twenty questions game.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” She gets into it immediately. “But no lying. You first, shoot!”

“Favorite color?” I ask.

“Green,” she says without hesitation, her eyes continuing to track my face. “Your turn. What’s the one thing you can’t stand?”

“Liars,” I reply. “Question three. Why did you chose to become a paramedic?”

“Because nobody came to save me when I was a kid,” she says bluntly, her gaze unwavering. “I want to be the person who shows up. Even if I’m a complete stranger. Question four. Doyou actually like managing a place like the Eden or are you doing it because it’s family business?”

“It’s family business,” I suddenly become aware of the silence of my phone and the lack of news on the problem we’re facing there.

My eyes drift toward the bar’s entrance as a group of loud guys walk in. My jaw tightens on instinct and I check the perimeter, my mind shifting back to the missing girls and the rot spreading through my club.

“Zeke…” When I look back at Riley she is leaning forward, her chin resting in her hand and her eyes locked onto mine. “You’re not entirely present. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“That’s breaking the rules of the game,” I try to force a casual smile.

“Come on…”

I look at her for a long moment, realizing how badly I want to protect her from the dark reality of my life. Yet somehow, lying to her feels cheap. And I would be doing the exact thing I despise.

“It’s work,” I admit, my fingers tightening around the whiskey glass. “We are having some issues. Things I need to fix but haven’t yet figured out how.”

She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she just nods slowly, a fierce, quiet understanding in her gaze. “Is it dangerous?”

“It always is,” I lean across the table to close the distance between us. “But you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Is it about the missing girls?” She asks, making my stomach drop.

“Riley,” I hesitate for a moment before placing my hand on top of hers on the table. “You shouldn’t speak to anyone about that. Not even me. Just pretend you don’t know anything.”