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“He said you’re hard to say no to.”
That earns a chuckle. “I guess I was curious, and I trusted him not to take it farther than I was comfortable.”
The mental image of Henry and Merrick touching so intimately has heat flooding my lower belly, but it’s quickly doused by a different image, one of Henry with another woman. “Was it weird for you two after?”
“What? No. It’s Mer.” He frowns curiously. “And I might not crave dick, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy what we did.”
“So … He’s bisexual.”
“He’s not interested in labels but, yeah, you could say that. I’ve seen him with mostly women, but he has hooked up with a couple men. He was in a relationship with one not that long ago. It was serious from what he told me.”
“What happened?”
“It didn’t work out.” Henry pauses, his jaw tensing as he decides how much to tell me. “Merrick is one of my best friends. I trust him completely. But he grew up in a very different family from mine.”
Given life in William Wolf’s household wasn’t warm and fuzzy, based on what Henry’s told me, it doesn’t say much for Merrick. This must have something to do with the conversation I overheard at the dinner table. Something about his name. “What do you mean—”
“Things you don’teverneed to know or worry about,” Henry cuts me off. “But in case you were wondering …no.”
I peer up at him, confused. “No, what?”
His index finger traces over my lip. “If you’re having any little fantasies about me, you, and Merrick, get those thoughts out of that pretty little head of yours now. I mean it, Abbi.”
My mouth hangs. “I don’t! I didn’t!”
He hums like he doesn’t believe me. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
“There you two are.” Margo and Joel slink in. “We’ve seen enough. Ready to move on?”
“Lead the way.” Henry slips his arm around me. He grins at Joel. “It looks like you already are. That costume doesn’t allow for much discretion, does it?”
My mouth gapes at the tent in Joel’s lower half.
Margo’s musical laughter rings in the air. “When is he ever discreet?”
CHAPTER12
The Fun House in Greenbank was a simple structure made of plywood, fabric, and paint, with an endless loop of ominous laughter playing over a crackling speaker. People in costumes jumped out from behind black curtains to scare you, and then you stumbled through a mirror maze lined with smudged fingerprints until you surfaced on the other side. It was a few minutes of excitement and then it was over.
The moment we step through the sinister clown mouth entrance and into a long curtain-lined corridor lit by black light, I suspect this Fun House will be like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
“It’s easy to get lost in here. Stay close to me,” Henry warns as we move deeper inside, as if I’m not gripping his hand tightly. Plenty of people mill, but it doesn’t feel tight except in a few areas where small crowds form. A curtain draws open as we approach, illuminating a small room beyond a plexiglass window. A naked blond woman is strapped to a swinging contraption, bared to the audience, a black ribbon tied over the eye holes of her mask. She can’t see us, but we can certainly seeallof her.
The mime in suspenders from the bucket ball game paces, tapping her thigh with the handle of a black flog, her painted face screwed up as if considering what to do to this woman.
“Whatisthis?” I whisper, feeling equal parts fascinated and awkward.
“Guests pay to be participants in these little window displays,” Henry whispers. “Some of them are tamer than others.”
I peer up at Henry with incredulity. “Shepaidfor this?” To be stripped down and strung up?
Henry shrugs. “Everyone’s got their thing, and no one knows who she is, so what does it matter?”
I guess, but … “What will she do to her?”
“Whatever she wants to.”
As if answering our question, the mime mouths, “I know!” and then slaps the woman’s mound with the flog.
