Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I ignore her and ask a question I’ve always wanted to know. “Why don’t you guys offer, like, carnival rides?”
Delila answers quickly. “Quite simple, really. What do carnival rides attract?”
Realization crashes into me, and for a second, I feel miniscule.
Idiot.
“Right.”
I take a seat on the center stage and begin warming up my body.
“What did you want to ask me last night?”
“Would you rather me ask you or show you?”
Delila grins, lighting the unlit cigarette that sits in her mouth. “I’m a showgirl, Dovey. Thought you’d know that by now.”
I did. I do. But I don’t know how I’m going to show her without having all of my plan with me. I’ve come to the conclusion that I enjoy being on the road with Midnight Mayhem, as much as I’m still confused with how they go about recruiting their showrunners. I didn’t have a fabulous life before. In fact, one thing has stopped since I’ve been here, and that’s The Shadow. He hasn’t lurked in the club or been waiting for me in the parking lot. He hasn’t shown up in my dreams when I close my eyes at night, and he hasn’t whispered sweet nothings into my ear when I’ve been sitting in silence.
It’s been quiet. Too quiet.
After stretching, I make my way behind the main curtain and stand still at the congestion of all the props there. The triple ring of death, the cage, the bikes, bars, and ramps. There are copious amounts of prop equipment and a whole lot of anxious workers running around like bumble bees. I would hate to be behind here during a show. It must be hectic.
“Looks like you survived last night, D?” Maya comes up beside me wearing oversized sunglasses, an Adidas hat, jumpsuit pants pushed up her legs, and a Fluro pink loose shirt that looks one size too large. She’s got a coffee in one hand and a joint in the other.
“Good. You?” I ask, eyeing her up and down.
“Don’t run your judgy eyes up and down me, little miss thang. I’m doing what I do.” She spins around and disappears through the curtain. Seeing Maya only reminds me that I still need to see King. After last night and seeing Val leave his room this morning, and me deciding that I quite like being here, only solidifies the fact that I need Delila to agree to what I’m going to propose to her. She’s not all that disagreeable, and she can be approachable, but I’ve learned in the very short space that I’ve been here that that is very selective with Delila. One minute she’s sunshine and then next she’s the storm.
There’s no telling.
Movement catches the corner of my eye, and before I can stop my wandering eyes, I’m looking right at King. My heart jumps to life in my chest and almost rears up my throat when I find him looking right at me. He’s walking closer and closer, coming closer and closer, and just when I think he’s about to talk to me, I figure out his eyes are actually over my shoulder, and he walks straight past me, as if I’m not there.
As if I don’t exist.
I used to think that having Kingston Axton’s attention was the worst feeling in the world, but I was wrong. Not having his attention is. Especially because now, he’s seen me naked.
I squeeze my eyes shut and mentally count to five.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Then I spin back around and enter through the way I came, knowing full well that I need to do what I’m here to do.
Work.
I had talked myself up so hard during those five seconds. Which is ironic because five seconds was exactly how long it took for that hype to come crashing down.
Which was exactly when I was walking toward the stage and dipping behind one of the chairs.
“Dove?” Keaton calls out when he enters. “We’re going to practice on the Triple Wheel of Death. You good with that?”
I gulp. “Okay.” I hate that one. I wish we could practice on something else, but I quickly realize that it actually doesn’t matter, because King wants me dead.
“Is your act planned out, Dove?” Delila asks, staring at me from down the aisle.
I nod. “Yes. I think. As much as it will be. I’ll need a few things, though.”
Delila curls her finger, so I head to her and rattle off everything I’ll need. Nothing major. A couple wine bottles, a waiter’s plate. You know, because I have no idea how I’m going to sell this idea that I not only want my own show, but I want to recruit a few people to join me.
“Dove!” King barks from behind me, just as I hear the loud rumble of his bike vibrate around the large area.
I spin around, knowing how awkward and annoying this is going to be.