Page 44 of Stay Scared

“You made arguments feel like hostage negotiations.”

He grips one of the ride cars and shoves. The wheels scream against the rail, and I jump aside as the coffin rolls into the next car, knocking both deeper into the tunnel.

Cade steps onto the track. “You wanted answers.”

“I got several.”

“You ran before I finished.”

“You grabbed me after I told you not to.”

His pace slows. “I stopped.”

“After I used the signal.”

“I should’ve stopped sooner.”

There is nothing clever in the admission.

I back toward the curve while Cade follows without rushing me now.

“You can end the chase.”

“I can.”

“You haven’t.”

“Not yet.”

A speaker activates overhead, and a woman begins singing an old carnival love song through heavy distortion. The melody stretches until the sweetness turns ugly.

Cade steps around the stalled car while I retreat. The curve opens into a painted scene of skeletal couples riding beneath a moonlit sky, with a padded bench beneath it and fresh leather cuffs mounted to the arms.

I stop.

Cade sees why.

He steps into the red light and lifts one hand, curling two fingers toward himself. “Come closer.”

“That invitation needs work.”

“You’re still standing there.”

“I’m inspecting the bench.”

“You’re deciding whether you want me to put you on it.”

The bluntness lands low.

My fingertips brush one of the restraints. Wide leather, clean hardware, cold buckle against my knuckle.

Cade advances one measured step.

I stay.

His shadow reaches the bench before he does.

“If that bench was empty, would you still be standing there waiting for me?”