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“A theme park isn’t what I normally consider fun.”
I poke him in the ribs. “Most people don’t consider murder fun, you know. A theme part is genuine fun.”
We’re at Coney Island on a random Wednesday afternoon. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy is strong in the air, while the screams of people on the rollercoasters are loud in my ears. Vendors line the boardwalk, selling everything from t-shirts to tacky bracelets you only get at a place like this. My family used to come here often before Dad passed, back when everything was just easier.
I told Viktor I wanted a fun day out that didn’t include giving me a heart attack. He took that to mean we could still go on a high-speed car chase with the police again, but I staunchly said no. I want fun in a safer way that didn’t include anyone getting hurt.
“You need to learn that having fun in life doesn’t have to mean killing people,” I say. Two kids run past me, screaming at the top of their lungs. Their parents trail behind, looking embarrassed.
“But a theme park?”
“You’ve really never been to Coney Island? You’ve lived in New York your whole life. It’s a staple to come here.”
“Let’s just say I didn’t have a normal childhood.” He looks confused as a man with a bandana tries offering him a free CD. “People really like coming here?”
“Yes. Because it’s fun, Viktor. So, let’s go.” I walk into the line for the Ferris wheel and stand behind a woman holding a toddler crying about wanting ice cream. Thank god I don’t have kids. They’re a handful.
Though, given how Viktor and I have been having sex, I wonder if I’ll end up pregnant. I’m not sure if I like the idea or not.
“What did your family do for fun?’ I ask. Viktor turns away from admiring a man making a balloon animal to look at me.
“Nothing much. I had fun, and they hated me for it. So, they shipped me off to the loony-bin. As I said, I didn’t have a normal childhood.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”
He gives me a dark grin. “You know I’m usually telling the truth.”
“Key word—usually.”
Viktor chuckles and pulls me against his side. It’s strange how being in Viktor’s arms doesn’t bother me. In fact, the longer I’m with Viktor, the more I can’t see my life without him.
Huh. Maybe I’m the one who should be in the loony-bin, as Viktor so eloquently put it.
“So, were you really in a mental institution?”
Viktor looks away from me as he answers. “Yep. From twelve to sixteen. I escaped after that.”
“Why were you in there?”
He gives me a pointed look. Right. He likes hurting people. I shouldn’t be surprised.
“My parents thought I was a menace to society, so they put me in there.”
“Maybe you should have stayed.”
He rests his arms around my waist as we inch forward a couple steps in line. “But then we never would have met.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
Viktor scrunches up his nose as we approach the Ferris wheel. “People really like riding this? I don’t understand the appeal.”
“Is it not dangerous enough for you?”
“Exactly.” He says it so seriously that I roll my eyes.
“Viktor, you promised you’d give me more freedom. That includes doing what I want to do on occasion. Ok?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
