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Callie had almost expected them to take her to a tent, so when they led her to a group of camper vans, she was pleasantly surprised. The embers of a campfire glowed in the center of the group of vans. Metal folding chairs with mesh backs surrounded the fire and a red-sided cooler sat against one of the chairs. A few cigarette butts littered the ground and Callie skirted around them as Elijah and the others led her toward the chairs.

Elijah motioned at Jabari and he went to the fire without further prompting. He knelt, took out a lighter, and poked the embers with a stick. Tahlia and Maeve lowered themselves into adjacent chairs. Elijah remained standing with Callie. He seemed taller somehow, shoulders thrown back, chin raised, eyes blazing. Callie felt a twinge of nervousness as he looked her over again.

“It’s quiet back here,” she said. The campground was far enough from the carnival grounds that it was almost tucked into the forest and the chirping cicadas drowned out the sounds of people and machinery. They were also far from the carnival’s floodlights, and the only illumination came from the moon and amber string lights on some of the campers.

The moonlight glanced off the sharp planes of Elijah’s face and cast shadows under his cheeks, across his mouth. Still, when he smiled, it was impossible to miss.

Callie unclenched her jaw and let her shoulders slump. If they planned to hurt her in some way, they would have done it already. They’d been nothing but friendly so far—except for Jabari, but Elijah would keep him from being weird to her again.

“How are your injuries?” Elijah asked.

Callie’s brow furrowed. His gaze drifted down her legs, hesitated at her knees, then jumped back up to her face. Realization dawned on her. “Oh, the scrapes from where I fell. I guess Jabari told you.”

“It’s a small carnival. Word travels fast. Not much else to do but talk.”

“I’m fine. I mean, it’s nothing major. Bled a little, but not too badly.”

“Blood doesn’t bother you?” The corners of Maeve’s mouth twitched.

“Not really.” Callie looked from Maeve to Jabari, who had lit the fire and worked to get it going. She couldn’t focus on anything but the fire. Their eyes… something in their eyes made it difficult to focus, and she had to keep her wits about her. “Can’t say I’ve ever been squeamish.”

“Good to know.” Elijah lowered his voice, smoothed it in a way that gave her chills. How the fuck did he do that? Maybe he worked as a ventriloquist or something? Come to think of it, she had no clue what any of them actually did, how they made their living at the carnival. All she knew was that they worked there.

“So, what do you all do for work? What do you do at the carnival?”

She felt, rather than saw, Elijah’s smile falter. “We’re jacks of all trades. Renaissance people.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the movement caught Callie’s attention. His boots were heeled, and high—how had she not noticed that before? “We float from one job to the next, never settling down. Whatever is needed.”

“We work in the show,” Tahlia said. “Most of us are performers.”

“I work backstage,” Jabari chimed in. “Used to be a fire-eater, but it got too tough for me.”

“Elijah’s being modest. He’s the ringmaster.” Maeve winked. “He puts all his charisma to good use onstage.”

“Guilty as charged.” Elijah gestured at the empty chair beside Maeve. “Callie, please. Sit.”

She moved to the empty chair and sat before she realized what she was doing. Something in his voice compelled her to obey, made it too easy to go along with whatever he asked. Thank God he hadn’t told her to do anything dangerous.

Yet. The word hung like a threat in the back of her mind. She chased it away with more questions.

“What about you, Maeve? What do you do?”

“Tahlia and I have an act together.” She smiled. “We’re acrobats. Aerialists.”

“We flip through hoops and shit,” Tahlia added.

“We’re all magicians, too,” Elijah said. “Well, I’m the magician, and the girls are my assistants. They make me look good.”

“You already look good, babe. We make you look better.” Maeve bit her lip, fluttering her eyelashes. Her change in demeanor took Callie aback.

Elijah winked at her. “It’s an honor to share the stage with both of you beautiful ladies. You know that.”

Were Elijah and Maeve together? He’d had his arms around both the women, but Maeve was the one openly flirting with him now. And she’d called him “babe.” That had to count for something. He didn’t seem like he’d let many people call him that.

Of course, Elijah was checking Callie out again, and all her theories went out the window. If he was with Maeve, would he be looking at other women so blatantly? She doubted it.

Callie flushed. It wasn’t that she typically shied away from male attention, but there was an intensity to Elijah’s focus that frightened her. He looked at her like he could see inside her, like he wanted to figure out what made her tick. On the other hand, maybe she was reading too much into the situation. Maybe Elijah just thought she was hot and wanted to fuck her sometime. Callie wouldn’t hate it if that were the truth.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. Let him look at her. She had nothing to hide, and it felt nice to be admired.

“You should come sometime,” Elijah said.

In the wake of her theorizing, the double entendre stunned her. As her blush deepened, she reassured herself he hadn’t meant it that way. He had to be talking about the show, right?

“I’d love to see it. Does it happen every night?”

“Every night around nine, and seats fill up fast.” Elijah’s gaze flitted to Callie’s mouth, even though she wasn’t speaking anymore. “Suppose we could save you one, though, if you wanted.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Callie. Our pleasure.” He spread his arms to indicate that included the rest of the group, and the others looked at her like she’d given them a gift. Callie couldn’t let them down now. She had to go to the show.

He stood in a loose semicircle with Maeve, Tahlia, and a white man Callie didn’t know. Maeve had her hair down. She wore a black bralette, a floral skirt, combat boots, and fishnets. Tahlia had her hair pulled into a low ponytail, and she wore a flowy black dress. She also wore a wide-brimmed black hat.

As for the man Callie hadn’t met yet, he was shorter than Jabari. He had messy, dark hair and sleepy brown eyes, but he emanated power, confidence, magnetism. She’d met no one with such electric energy. He wore dark jeans, boots, and a leather jacket open over… a mesh shirt. Someone had tattooed the word HEDONIST in red letters over his heart. A septum ring glinted in his nose.

The man’s eyes sparkled as he studied her. He had both arms thrown over Maeve and Tahlia’s shoulders. Callie was self-conscious. She was sure she looked a mess, and there was no fixing it now.

“Who’s this?” the man asked Jabari. The sounds of the carnival faded out as he spoke until Callie couldn’t focus on anything but him.

“Ramsay’s friend,” Jabari said. “Callie, think it was.”

Callie bristled. It was rude to talk about her like she wasn’t there, and ruder for him to act like he couldn’t remember her name, especially when he’d been so creepy toward her earlier.

“I’m sure she can speak for herself,” the man admonished Jabari.

“Yeah, I’m Callie.”

“Nice to meet you, Callie. I’m Elijah.” 

He beamed and extended a hand to her. She gave him her hand, assuming he’d shake it. Instead, he clasped it and raised it to his lips before dropping a kiss on her knuckles. Despite herself, Callie blushed. Elijah winked before he let go of her hand. In different circumstances, he might have unsettled her, but he was the least threatening person in the entire group, and though he looked like he wanted to eat her, he wasn’t aggressive. He knew how attractive he was and was used to having allowances made for him just because he was pretty.

Tahlia rolled her eyes. Maeve offered her an apologetic smile. The women’s beauty unnerved Callie. Last time, she’d been too anxious to appreciate their looks. The group comprised the most gorgeous people she’d ever seen. Her bisexuality flared in acknowledgment.

Shit. She needed to stop staring. What was she looking for again?

“I… I lost a bracelet here.” Callie touched her bare wrist. “It’s handmade and irreplaceable.”

“This is the last place you remember having it?” Elijah asked. So far, he’d been much kinder toward her than the rest of them. He could have faked his sincerity, but if that was the case, he was doing a phenomenal job. “What does it look like, darling?”

Darling. His use of a pet name took Callie aback, but not for long. She had more pressing matters to attend to. “It’s made of thread, red and yellow. It’s dingy from me wearing it all the time. And there’s a silver charm on it that says FRIENDS.”

“BEST FRIENDS?” Maeve butted in.

“BEST FRIENDS FOREVER,” Callie said. “It’s a heart split into three.”

It felt like admitting an embarrassing secret. At the rate this conversation was going, she’d never stop blushing. So much for making good impressions—a first for Elijah, and a second for Tahlia and Maeve. She no longer gave a shit what Jabari thought of her. That ship had sailed so long ago.

“Maybe you dropped it in the haunted house,” Jabari said. He looked like he was about to say something else, but Elijah cut his eyes at him. Jabari kept silent.

Callie chewed the inside of her cheek. That was the most likely answer, but she doubted she’d be able to find it there now. Perhaps someone had picked it up, or they had cleaned the haunted house out, or even—

“Lost and found.” Callie’s gaze fell on Elijah. “There’s a lost and found somewhere in here, right? Can you take me there?”

Elijah frowned. “I’m afraid there isn’t. Carnival rules follow a finders, keepers philosophy.”

Callie’s frown mirrored his. She shifted her attention to Jabari. “You don’t remember seeing it, do you? After I fell? When we left the house?”

Jabari opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he going to say? Why didn’t he just say it?

Elijah’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. Callie let her eyes linger on his mouth a little longer than she should have. The man had nice lips. Full…

“Why don’t you come hang out with us?” Elijah asked. “We can help look for the bracelet. In the meantime, perhaps we can convince you to have some fun, hm?”

Callie understood that it wasn’t a great idea to go anywhere with this group of near-strangers when they knew the carnival so much better than she did. And… they outnumbered her. Normally, she would think the worst, but when Elijah spoke, his golden tone made her believe him. His voice made her want to give him anything he wanted. If all he wanted was for her to come along with them, she’d be more than happy to do that.

Besides, he had a point. She needed to loosen up.

Confusion swirled in her mind. Why had she come to the carnival? She had been looking for… something she’d lost. Something irreplaceable.

Elijah smiled at her again, and it didn’t matter anymore. He anchored her to the present and promised her the future.

“I’ll go with you,” she said.

For a moment, something dark flitted across Elijah’s features. Something predatory. But he replaced it with another charming smile and a twinkle in his eye just as quickly.

“We’d be thrilled to have you. Come along now, darling.”

Callie’s fingers went to the bracelet on her left wrist. There was only skin. Callie’s pulse quickened and her stomach dropped into her ass. Where the fuck was Becca’s bracelet?

She threw the covers off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Even when she showered, she kept the bracelet on. The colorful interwoven threads and dangling silver charm, a half heart that said FRIENDS, was one of the only things she had left of Becca. If she’d lost the bracelet…

No. Callie refused to consider it. She couldn’t have lost the bracelet. It had to be lying somewhere in the apartment, or maybe it had fallen off in the car.

The lamp’s chain was cold in her hand as she pulled it and filled the room with light. All that lay on her nightstand was an orange bottle filled with ADHD meds, her cell phone plugged into its charger, and a dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre she doubted she’d ever get through. It had been Becca’s favorite book, and in the wake of losing the bracelet, Callie felt a twinge of guilt-ridden panic as she looked at it. Shit. She couldn’t do anything right, couldn’t shake the feeling she was letting Becca down, no matter what she did.

She wasn’t taking care of Ramsay, either. Becca would never have approved of Jabari and even though Ramsay said he was all right, Callie couldn’t ignore her intuition. Something rotten lurked beneath his shiny surface. Though she’d only glimpsed it, she wasn’t eager to see more. If anything happened to Ramsay—if Jabari did something to him—and Callie did nothing to stop it, she would never forgive herself.

And Becca would never forgive her.

Callie cracked open her bedroom door and padded out into the hallway. The apartment was stepped in darkness save a sliver of light coming in through the living room blinds. No matter how hard she tried, Callie could never get them fully closed. The light stretched over the couch and spread over Ramsay’s face. Somehow, it didn’t bother him. His eyes were closed and he snored softly.

For a minute, she stood there watching him sleep. She felt like a creep, but it calmed her. Rain pelted the windows. Lightning flashed outside, followed by another peal of thunder. Callie put a hand against the wall to steady herself. How many rainy nights had she, Becca, and Ramsay spent in her tiny apartment? How many times had they all fallen asleep on the couch together in the middle of  a movie marathon?

Callie’s heart ached, and once again, her hand went to her wrist only to find it empty. Shit. 

Her gaze swept over the coffee table, across the floor, and back to the couch. No sign of the bracelet anywhere. Perhaps Ramsay lay on top of it, or it had fallen between the couch cushions, but she could’ve sworn she remembered twisting the ends of it at the carnival—

Fuck. That was it. She must have lost it at the carnival.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered. So much for getting a good night’s sleep. 

She had no idea whether it would still be open so late—or was it so early?—in the day, but she couldn’t rest until she found the bracelet. She had to at least look for it at the carnival, as much as she didn’t want to go back there.

With a sigh, Callie crept back to her bedroom, changed clothes, and grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand. It felt wrong to leave Ramsay behind, but she didn’t want to wake him. Besides, he didn’t need to go. Hopefully, she could get to the carnival, get in, grab the bracelet, and make it back before morning so he’d be none the wiser. She didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.

If he found out she’d lost Becca’s bracelet, he’d flip.

The cranberry-rust stain at the edge of the white rug in front of her bed caught her eye. Becca had spilled a glass of wine there. If Callie really scrubbed, she could probably get the stain out, but did she even want to?

Before she lost her nerve or had a breakdown or worse, Callie grabbed her keys, turned off the bedside lamp, and headed out of the apartment.

Callie had now pulled into the Starlight Carnival’s parking lot two more times than she’d wanted to. Few cars filled the spaces beside hers, although the lights beyond the lot were just as bright as they’d been earlier. Another woman got out of her car at the same time as Callie. They locked eyes for a second before the other woman turned and headed into the carnival. 

A muffled voice boomed an announcement over the intercom as Callie made her way toward ticketing. Maybe she should have asked Ramsay if Jabari could get them in for free. At least she could have saved some money.

If she had to keep coming back here, she was going to go broke.

She got her ticket and pushed through the turnstiles without any issue. With most of the people gone, the hum of machinery for the rides and attractions filled the empty air. A few couples milled around here and there, but at two o’clock in the morning, the fairgrounds were nearly deserted. The canvas tents creaked and rustled in the wind and most of the food stalls were shuttered. Everything smelled like hot oil, stale beer, and livestock. Callie’s stomach turned, but she pressed on, heading toward the haunted house. It was the last place she remembered wearing the bracelet. It had been on her wrist when she fell—she remembered worrying that she’d gotten blood on it.

A sharp laugh behind her made her jump. Callie whirled around and saw someone she recognized—make that several someones.

“Long time no see,” Jabari said.

Trigger warning: the following scene features a car accident in the form of a flashback/nightmare. If such an event is traumatic for you to read about, please skip this installment. Please take care of yourself.

  

They stayed at the beach until the sky turned pink and purple as the sun set. All the families and other groups of friends had left, and there was no one else around for miles. Callie and Becca sat back to back on the beach blanket. Ramsay sat in the folding chair beside them with his legs stretched out and his feet in the sand. Ramsay and Becca had pink cheeks and noses from failing to reapply their sunscreen. Callie had sore ribs from laughing all day.

“We need to head back,” Becca said.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” Ramsay said.

Becca scrunched up her nose at him. “That’s what you said an hour ago. I have class in the morning, Ram.”

He rolled his eyes. “Beauty school barely counts.”

Becca scoffed and leaned over to punch his arm. Callie laughed. Becca had been training to become a makeup artist for three months. She loved every second of it and had thrown herself headfirst into her studies with surprising tenacity. She’d coasted through high school, where she and her brother had been much more concerned about socializing than studying.

“Not enough schooling in the world to help with you face,” Becca countered.

“You’re twins,” Callie said.

“Well, not identical.” Becca laughed. “That doesn’t make it any less true.”

Ramsay leaned over to shove his sister’s shoulder. The sun had even burned his scalp. “I’ll drive, okay? We’ll be back before you turn into a pumpkin, promise.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “I’d feel better if Callie drove. Safer.”

“Why, because I drive like a grandma?” Callie asked.

“Doesn’t make us love you less,” said Ramsay.

They shook the sand out of the blanket, folded up the chair, grabbed the cooler, and trekked back to Ramsay’s SUV. Callie offered to drive but Ramsay declined. Becca sat beside her brother in the passenger seat and Callie climbed into the back. Right before he started the engine, Ramsay’s phone pinged. He checked it.

“Shit, looks like rain. Guess we should’ve left sooner.”

Becca huffed but said nothing. They turned out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Ramsay fiddled with the radio. Becca pushed his hand away and tuned the signal to NPR. The host droned on about unrest in the Middle East, some report that Callie only half listened to.

If she’d known what was going to happen, she would have paid even less attention, would have focused more on the light in Becca’s blue eyes, the curve of her mouth as she smiled. On her freckles. On the friendship bracelet on her wrist, which Callie had the other half of.

But the tragedy of life is never knowing what comes next, never realizing whether it’s more important to focus on a moment and hold tight to it forever, or whether another will replace it and render it inconsequential.

One minute, the sky was overcast and Ramsay had no trouble driving. The next, the sky opened up, rain flooded the roads, and Ramsay muttered a stream of curses. He had a white-knuckled grip on the wheel, but he still smiled at Callie in the rearview mirror. She always made faces at him when he drove. He hadn’t done anything wrong yet, but she was bracing herself for the inevitable. Later, the memory of the faces she’d pulled would wrack her with even more guilt.

“You’re safe with me,” he promised. “Eyes on the road. I swear.”

“Shut up and pay attention,” Becca chided.

Ramsay rolled his eyes. On the radio, NPR dissolved into broken static. Becca reached for the dial, but Ramsay swatted her hand away. “Uh-uh, you chose last time. Now it’s my–“

“Ramsay!”

Callie wasn’t sure the scream was hers until Ramsay’s eyes widened in the mirror, illuminated by the flash of headlights in the other lane. They’d traveled over the line into oncoming traffic, close enough to see the terrified faces of the people in the other car. Ramsay jerked the wheel to the right and overcompensated. The car screeched, tilted, Becca gasped–

And Callie’s world flipped with the car. The front airbags exploded in clouds of white. The screech of metal on pavement, blaring horns, and tinkle of shattering glass overwhelmed her hearing, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sensory onslaught.

If only Callie had driven instead.

If only it hadn’t rained.

If only they’d left earlier, as had been the plan.

If only one of those factors had been different, Callie wouldn’t have blacked out upside-down in the backseat, slammed forward in her seatbelt so hard she cracked a rib.

She woke to the acrid stench of gasoline and motor oil, the sounds of sobbing and sirens, and the copper taste of blood, thick and heavy on her tongue. 

Where…? 

Callie tried to move but the seatbelt kept her pinned in place and her ribs protested the effort. Sharp pain flared up her side and spread across her chest. The engine pinged–the car assumed a door had been left open—and intermittent flashes of red light gave the cab an eerie heartbeat—

Thunder ripped Callie out of the nightmare. She sat bolt upright, clutching the sheets to her chest, face slick with sweat. It trickled down her face and mingled with her tears. Though the nightmare was familiar, it was no less frightening. Almost every night, she relived the accident. Snatches of conversation in the aftermath swirled inside her head: Dead on impact. Likely didn’t feel a thing. So young, it’s such a shame… closed casket. Poor Ramsay. They say it’s worse for twins.

In the present, Callie stifled a sob with a hand against her mouth. She didn’t want to wake Ramsay again. It wasn’t the first time she’d had the nightmare while he slept over, and it wouldn’t be the last. He had nightmares too, and they had to be much worse. He’d been awake for all of it. 

He’d seen her head come off.

Something shifted in Jabari’s face. His eyes darkened. When he spoke again, his voice was rough. “You don’t think I’m going to take good care of your friend?”

Ramsay blinked. “Th-that’s not what—”

“Because I’m carnie trash? Is that it?” Jabari’s nostrils flared. “You think I’m an idiot because I didn’t fucking graduate from high school?”

“He didn’t say that,” Callie countered.

“He didn’t have to.”

“Jabari,” Ramsay started. “Forget it. Callie and I—”

“Get the fuck out of here with that attitude.” Jabari scowled. “Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

Ramsay frowned. Callie wanted to say something to change the subject, maybe break the tension, but she didn’t know what to say. Maybe Jabari had a point. Maybe they should leave. Something had shifted the dynamic, and whatever was going on with Jabari now, Callie didn’t want to stick around to see it sour further.

“Come on, Ram. Let’s go home.”

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but his shoulders slumped and he only nodded. With a last wistful look at Jabari, Ramsay shoved his hands in his pockets and pivoted. As he walked off, Callie followed. She half expected Jabari to relent, apologize, and stop them, but he didn’t. They walked all the way to the front of the carnival, through the turnstiles, and into the parking lot without any interruption. The only sounds outside the carnival were the hum of engines starting and the droning of cicadas.

Ramsay stood beside the passenger door, waiting for Callie to unlock the car. He didn’t make eye contact with her.

She took her keys out of her purse, turning them over in her hands as she spoke. “I don’t think you should spend any more time with him.”

“Can we not do this now? Unlock the car.”

Callie sighed. She unlocked the car, got in, and waited for Ramsay to do the same. They both closed their doors, and she started the engine. Once they had their seatbelts on, she hesitated. “He’s not a good guy, Ram. I know he’s nice to look at and maybe he makes you feel good sometimes, but you deserve better.”

“He’s a dick,” Ramsay agreed. “I don’t know what got into him. He’s always been chill with me and then you fell in the haunted house and everything changed.”

“Not sure what the fuck that was.” 

Callie backed out of the parking space and drove out of the lot. Her hands and knee still stung, but not enough to concern her. They were just scrapes. She probably had bled on her clothes somewhere, but if she couldn’t get the stains out, it wasn’t a big deal.

Blood. Maybe that was why Jabari had freaked out.

“Maybe he’s not good with blood,” she remarked.

“What?” Ramsay asked.

“Jabari. He was okay until I fell and he saw I was bleeding. Maybe it triggered him somehow.”

“He didn’t faint or anything, Cal. He wasn’t squeamish. I don’t think that’s it.”

“The timing makes sense.”

“Yeah, but that’s it. I don’t know, maybe he couldn’t keep up the nice guy facade any longer.” He stared out the window as they headed down the road. “Ugh. I’m such a moron.”

“You are not a moron. He’s good at what he does. Whatever that means.”

They kept silent for the rest of the drive. Callie couldn’t think of anything productive to say, and Ramsay didn’t have anything to add, either. When they pulled into Ramsay’s driveway, Ramsay put a hand on hers to stop her from turning the car off.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” His voice was small, almost like a child’s.

Callie’s heart clenched. “Yeah. Of course.”

She backed out of the driveway and headed back to her apartment. Ramsay leaned his seat back, closed his eyes, and said nothing along the way. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about how much he looked like his sister in the moonlight, and the more she thought about Becca, the sharper the pain grew. She wanted to blast some metal and scream, maybe even with the windows down, but Ramsay needed rest. She didn’t have the heart to wake him yet.

It wasn’t a long drive between their places, though, and she parked the car and turned it off only fifteen minutes later. The engine ticked as it cooled.

Callie shook Ramsay’s shoulder. “Hey, dude. We’re here.”

“I was thinking about her,” he mumbled.

“Who?”

“Becca.” His eyes fluttered open and he offered her a sleepy half-smile. “She would have kicked Jabari’s ass for talking to me like that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. She would’ve been obsessed with him, too.”

Ramsay wrinkled his nose at her. “I’m not obsessed.”

“Whatever you say, man. Let’s go inside.”

They made the trek up the stairs to Callie’s apartment. Moths circled the light outside the door, and Callie and Ramsay had to be careful not to let the bugs inside as they slipped in. Without turning on the lights, Callie headed to her bedroom at the back, grabbed a pillow and blanket off the bed, and brought them to Ramsay on the couch. He’d switched on the lamp on the end table and sat back against the cushions with his eyes closed again. When she dropped the pillow and blanket onto his lap, he jumped.

“Jesus.”

“Sorry,” she replied. “Didn’t think you’d be asleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I was thinking.”

“Either way.” She smiled. “It’s been a long night. I’m gonna head to bed. You’ll be okay out here?”

“Yeah. If I get scared, I’ll yell for Mommy.”

Callie rolled her eyes. He grinned at her. It was the first time she’d seen him happy since leaving Jabari behind, and she was thrilled she’d made it happen. Maybe the night wasn’t a complete loss after all.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey what?”

“I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Me, too, you goober. Go to bed before you get disgusting on me.”

Ramsay swung the pillow at her and she dodged, laughing. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d beat your ass in a pillow fight right now.”

“Tomorrow is another day,” he said. “Goodnight, Cal.”

“Night, Ram. Let me know if you need anything.”

He set the pillow down and stretched out on the couch. Callie went back to her bedroom and closed the door. She pulled the chain on her bedside lamp, illuminating the framed photograph on her nightstand. In it, she stood on the beach between Becca and Ramsay with her arms around both of them. All of them sported wide, easy smiles. Becca wore a high-waisted yellow bikini with black-striped bottoms that Ramsay had said made her look like a bee.

Callie’s heart twisted. She pulled the chain to turn the light off, put her face in her hands, and cried.

I’ll post it tomorrow. Thank you!

The haunted house smelled like piss. Acrid fog from machines curled around Callie’s ankles as she trailed behind Jabari and Ramsay. They still held hands. Overhead blacklight bars cast an otherworldly glow over everything, brightening Callie’s white T-shirt so that it was almost blinding. Eerie, tinny Halloween music played through unseen speakers, but Callie didn’t recognize the song. Even if she had, she was too busy trying not to trip over the cord stretched over the floor to pay attention to the music.

“Seems like a safety issue to have power cords strewn everywhere,” she muttered.

“What?” Ramsay asked without turning his head.

Callie was surprised he’d heard her. “It smells like piss in here.”

“Wouldn’t rule it out,” Jabari replied. “Lots of my colleagues wander through here when everything’s closed. Good place to get drunk and do… other things.”

Ramsay responded in a low voice only Jabari could hear. He howled with laughter, playfully bumping Ramsay’s shoulder with his own. Callie wanted to roll her eyes, but she resisted, even though she knew they couldn’t see her. It was odd how comfortable they were with each other already, and Ramsay didn’t seem upset about Jabari having stood him up anymore.

Jabari was hot, but that didn’t give him the right to be an asshole. Whatever he’d said to Ramsay via text must have been pretty convincing.

A hydraulic hiss preceded a zombie popping up in front of them, uttering a guttural moan. Ramsay jumped and cried out, latching onto Jabari. Considering that Ramsay frequently fell asleep in the middle of horror movies, Callie found his behavior suspicious.

She didn’t have long to ponder the strangeness. The toe of her Converse caught on a wire, and she went down, scraping up her hands and knees. Sharp heat spread from the injuries, and she swore.

“Callie?” Ramsay tugged Jabari to a stop. He turned, and even in the dim light, Callie recognized his furrowed brow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She pulled herself to a seated position, assessing the damage. Although it was hard to see the extent of the damage in the semidarkness, nothing was broken. Blood trickled from her left knee, and it smarted like hell, but it would heal. Her hands would bruise, maybe. It wasn’t too bad.

Jabari took a menacing stride toward her, setting flashing in his eyes—before he seemed to shake himself and stop just short of Callie. Ramsay threw him an inquisitive look that he didn’t have an answer for.

After looking from Ramsay to Callie again, Jabari’s face softened. “You’re bleeding.”

Callie checked her knee again. “It’s not too bad. Should stop in a minute.”

She regarded Jabari warily. Despite his calm demeanor, there was no mistaking the feral gleam in his eye before Ramsay had intervened. What the hell was that about?

Ramsay brushed past Jabari to kneel beside Callie. If anyone else came into the haunted house, they couldn’t linger like this. Thank God the Starlight Carnival wasn’t all that popular. 

“You want to go?” he asked.

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” she replied. He stretched out a hand, and she let him help her to her feet. “Aren’t we heading toward the exit?”

“More or less,” Jabari said, even though Callie wasn’t speaking to him.

“There should be an emergency exit up ahead,” he added.

Ramsay took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The pop-up zombie mechanism gave another hydraulic hiss, barely giving anyone time to brace themselves before the zombie reappeared with a prerecorded groan. Ramsay and Callie both jumped, but Jabari didn’t.

Somehow, he’d gotten closer to Callie. When had he taken another step? She could reach out and touch his leg if she wanted to—but of course, she didn’t want to. And… he was taller than she’d realized. A little more imposing.

Ramsay had his hand on her waist now, keeping her steady. Gratitude bloomed through her chest. She shouldn’t have felt jealous, even for a minute. Of course he would be there for her whenever she needed him.

“Which way?” he asked Jabari, still holding onto Callie’s waist. 

Jabari looked at the zombie, eyebrows scrunching together. He jerked his head to the right, toward what seemed to Callie to be just another wall. “This way.”

Ramsay kept his flashlight beam trained on the ground ahead of them as they walked so that there wouldn’t be any more cord-tripping incidents. Jabari pushed on what had looked like a wall to Callie, and it became a curtain that gave way under his touch.

Callie and Ramsay followed Jabari through the curtain and down a corrugated-metal hallway toward a bright-red EXIT sign. Jabari pushed the handle on the door and it swung outward. The smell of fried food and the sounds of cicadas and people shouting poured into the building. Jabari held the door open for Ramsay and Callie, and the red-haired attendant outside shot them a confused look as they exited.

“That’s for emergencies,” she said.

“I’m bleeding,” Callie said. “Besides that, nobody’s in there.”

“You’re bleeding? Oh, shit.” The girl crept closer to Callie. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen. “Did something happen in there?”

“No thanks to you,” Ramsay retorted.

“She tripped over a power cord or something,” Jabari said, trying to smooth things over. “Do you have a kit out here?”

“A kit?” The girl paled. “I… I’m supposed to, but I don’t think–“

“Never mind.” Jabari looked to Callie. “You can come with me. I have one in my trailer. We’ll get you patched up.”

It wasn’t until Ramsay frowned that Callie realized Jabari hadn’t invited both of them along. That was a little weird, especially as he barely knew Callie. She wasn’t about to go off with some dude she’d just met. She didn’t think Ramsay would stand for that, either. 

“I want to help,” Ramsay said.

“I think I can handle it, Ram.” Once again, Jabari’s tone was warm, but it had an edge to it that turned Callie’s stomach. The more time she spent around Jabari, the less she liked him. “The trailer’s pretty small, and I don’t want anyone getting claustrophobic.”

“It’s not a problem,” Callie said. “Besides, I want him with me.”

If you’re caught up with all the MFOA installments, and considering the price ($1/month), how do you feel about the length of them?

“What do you mean, you want to go back there?”

Ramsay lifted his head from where he lay on the other end of the couch. His eyes were sleepy but bright. Mischievous. Callie didn’t like the look in them. They’d spent the whole day having a horror movie marathon, complete with beer and popcorn, and though the alcohol was long out of both of their systems, Callie still felt pleasantly relaxed—or at least, she had until Ramsay proposed his asinine plan.

“I want to give it another shot,” he added.

Callie shook her head. “He stood you up. You were pissed. You said so yourself.”

“I know what I said. Can’t a guy change his mind?”

“A guy, yes. You, no. You never change your mind, Ram.” Callie dragged a hand down her face. “What did he say to you to get you all worked up?”

“It’s not what he said so much as how he said it. I’d show you the messages, but I’m not proud of some of the pictures I sent.”

Callie rolled her eyes. Going back to that carnival was the last thing she wanted to do. After waiting in the ticket line for hours and the food line for close to half an hour, the lead-up had definitely not been worth the payoff. All she could think about was the hurt in Ramsay’s eyes, the reek of alcohol on his breath as he cursed beside the petting zoo. She really didn’t want to see him like that again.

The red and yellow friendship bracelet Becca had made him encircled his wrist. He played with the ragged ends of the knot as he spoke. “I’m fine, okay? I know you’re worried about me, have been worried for a long time, but Cal… I promise I’m all right.”

She wanted to believe him, she really did. Truth was, he had come a long way since his sister’s death. From wallowing beneath a mountain of blankets and surfacing only to eat and take a piss to going out in the world on a regular basis, his progress was unmistakable.

But Ramsay showed signs of recklessness, of the kind of risk-taking that Becca would have hated, had she still been alive. She had always been worried about him. Now that she was gone, Callie had inherited that concern.

She thought about a time when they were younger, around the second grade. They’d been playing in a vacant lot, summer sun beating down with a shimmering fist. Ramsay climbed to the top of a dirt mound, egged on by Callie. Becca watched in fear, begging him to get down—and Ramsay jumped. He seemed to stay in midair, fixed by some unseen force—before he slammed into the earth and his arm snapped with a violent crack. He had broken it in three places and needed surgery.

That was not the only evidence of Ramsay’s recklessness that she had on hand, but Callie didn’t care to dredge up the others. One was more than enough. Her concern for him had only increased.

“Callie,” Ramsay pleaded. “Come on. You know I can’t drive or I’d go by myself. I’ll pay for your gas and everything.”

Callie wanted to argue that if he really wanted to go so badly, he could walk, but she didn’t have much fight left in her. If she let him go by himself and something happened, she would never forgive herself.

Reluctantly, Callie stood and picked up her keys from the bowl on the coffee table. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

This time, when they arrived at the carnival, they didn’t have to wait in line. It was later in the evening, well after dark, and fewer people seemed eager to venture inside. Callie was relieved they didn’t have to wait again. It was bad enough that she’d had to come back here against her will. If she’d had to stand in line again, too, she didn’t think she could have tolerated it.

Ramsay had fidgeted in the passenger seat on the way to the carnival, tapping his fingers on his thigh and bouncing his leg to the beat of Rob Zombie’s “Dragula.” He hadn’t said much to Callie, either. Now that they were at the carnival, he was even more animated, although less talkative. His eyes darted all around them, never fixating on any one point for too long.

“Are you high or something?” Callie asked once they were through the turnstiles.

“What? No.” He scoffed at her. “I only did coke that one time, remember? Nothing before or since.”

“Okay, it’s just… you’re acting weird. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” He peered down at his thumbnail, but he didn’t lift it to his mouth to bite. “I told him we wanted to go through the haunted house first.”

Callie frowned. “We, as in me and you?”

“Well, all three of us.” Ramsay shot her an apologetic look. “I dunno, I’m just… I feel weird because he stood me up yesterday, and then today he acts like nothing’s wrong. Wanna make sure I’m not getting catfished or something.”

“Jesus.” Callie sighed, though maybe she should have expected something like this. 

“You coming or what?”

“Like I have a choice.”

Callie shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and stared down at her red Converse as they headed toward the haunted house attraction. She hated that she was pouting, but damn it, Ramsay was being ridiculous. He’d made her an accessory to his bullshit crusade, and all she wanted to do was get back in the ass and leave his ass at the carnival so she could go home and get some sleep. To his credit, Ramsay said nothing as they walked. Maybe he knew better than to press his luck.

A long, low whistle caught Callie’s attention as they neared the attraction. She stopped alongside Ramsay, lifting her gaze to meet the whistler’s. He was a tall Black man with hooded brown eyes, close-cropped hair, and a row of golden earrings all along his left ear. He arched an eyebrow and grinned at Ramsay like the Cheshire cat.

Something in his smile made Callie’s blood run cold.

“Hey, stranger,” the man purred.

Ramsay smiled. “Hey, yourself.”

As nonchalantly as she could, Callie tugged on Ramsay’s sleeve. He ignored her, continuing to stare at the hot stranger. This must have been the famed Jabari.

Without further hesitation, the man came closer to them. He reached them in a few long strides, and his speed set Callie’s nerves on edge. He was still beaming at Ramsay, but the smile left his eyes as he turned his attention to Callie. “You must be the friend.”

Callie bristled. “And you must be the asshole who stood Ramsay up last night.”

Jabari gave a short, sharp laugh of surprise. “Seems she’s got teeth. Ram, you never said that.”

Ram. Callie was the only one who’d ever called him that, and hearing the nickname in some rude man’s mouth was a slap in the face. Her eyes narrowed, and she tugged on Ramsay’s sleeve again, not letting go this time. He had to know that she meant business.

“She’s doesn’t get out much,” Ramsay said. Callie could have smacked him. He kept looking Jabari up and down like he’d never seen a hot guy in his life, and it drove Callie up the wall. She was half a second away from going off on both of them when Jabari leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ramsay’s cheek—and then her best friend blushed.

Imagine if Becca could see him like this, Callie thought. Happy, after so much pain. An ache bloomed in her chest and she let go of his sleeve. They could talk about this later.

“I’m Callie,” she tried again.

“Jabari. Good to meet you.” He didn’t offer her anything more than a nod, taking Ramsay’s hand. “Shall we head inside?”

I LOVE making mood boards. You all probably know this. I thought it would be fun to share a little of what I’m working on in pictures. Let me know what you think!