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The tarot card reader flipped over another card. Death. She smiled slowly and stared right at Denver. “Death isn’t necessarily a negative card. Often it merely means a change. A rebirth of sorts. You’ve experienced one of those, haven’t you?”
Denver laced her fingers together in her lap and let out an uneasy laugh. “Sure. I switched from college to driving a bus. You can say that’s a change.”
“Not just a change of circumstances. You transformed. The woman before me right now isn’t the same—”
“I’d like to think so.” Denver knew her voice sounded stiff, but there was no helping it.
She’d known this was a mistake.
“Your scars run deep,” the woman said softly. “You fear the past is chasing you—”
Denver jerked to her feet. “Actually,
no, I’m most afraid of missing the concert we have tickets for.” She glanced at Ry, who was staring at her as if she were a stranger. “Can we go now?”
When he didn’t move, she skirted her chair and stumbled through the murky darkness until she reached the flap of the tent. She didn’t look back before ducking outside.
And she kept right on going.
Chapter Fifteen
All she cared about was escape. From all-too-knowing brown, lined eyes and spring-green ones full of questions.
Both expected far too much.
She jogged up the midway, passing a few games and food stands, coming to a stop as Ry called out her name behind her. She couldn’t run from him.
They lived in the same place, for God’s sake. For now.
To calm herself, she sucked in breath after breath of the scent of caramel corn and fried food and waited for her pulse to slow.
“Denver.” Ry’s hand came down on her shoulder and she stared straight ahead, unsure what to say. “You should’ve told me you weren’t into it.”
She gave a jerky shrug. “We’re just late.”
“And I know how much you hate that.”
Was it her imagination or did his voice sound hollow? Mistrustful?
She swallowed as he picked up her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Let’s go find the others,” he said against her knuckles, and she nodded, beyond grateful.
She wished more than anything she could be the woman he deserved. One without secrets and a past and scars, just like that tarot card reader had figured out. Whether it was from her woo woo cards or just a glimpse at Denver’s face, it didn’t matter. She was hiding too much, and the cracks in her veneer were getting wider every day. Letting Ry deeper into her life had meant making more room for him—and letting other things go. But it wasn’t that easy. She’d carried those particular burdens for far too long.
“Come on.” He linked their fingers together and they made their way in the direction of the music, dodging fairgoers and kids clutching giant stuffed animals and huge spools of cotton candy.
Happiness surrounded her, and she couldn’t stop checking out the shadows for men in dark suits. Men who wore dark glasses even at night. Men with heavy gold at their wrists.
Marco and his men were everywhere. It didn’t matter if they only followed her in her imagination at this point. They might as well have dogged her every step. Instead of the feeling of being tracked growing fainter with the passing days, it was only becoming stronger.
Ryan veered to the side of the walkway and they stopped. He pulled out his phone and let go of her to text someone. “Opposite side of the grandstand,” he said after a moment. “They’ve got a spot way in back. Hope they have big screens.”
“They do.” Denver pointed out one of the ones that flanked the stage, and he nodded, briefly riveted by the violinist accompanying the singer onstage. She didn’t recognize either of them, but Ry was already tapping his foot.
“Chase and Carrideen,” he said before she could ask. “They’re a married duo who got famous on one of those reality shows. Really talented.”
“Let’s find our spot then, so we can listen.” She took off to search for their friends, trusting he would catch up.
Movement was what she needed. If she kept moving, she couldn’t think. Tracking down locations was her skill. That, and making sure she couldn’t be found herself.
