Page 28
“It’s the opposite of a problem. My therapist used to take an entire session to say what you said in seconds.”
“Your therapist was paid by the hour.”
He tips his head back and laughs.
Valli mentioned to Jensen that Karo had a show on today, and since I have nothing better to do—and the fact that Karo is always fun to watch—we head over to the tent. Guests have filled the seats, and we take up a spot off to the side. Karo has a woman strapped to a spinning wheel as he throws knives that are on fire toward her. He never misses, but I love to watch just in case; one day he’s got to miss, and that is going to be a great day.
I glance at Jensen instead of the wheel. His eyes track every knife Karo throws, and they widen a little each time one lands with a solid thunk. His lips part, and when Karo sends another blade into the wood, barely an inch from the last, the corner of his mouth lifts. He looks fucking fascinated.
The lights catch his face as the wheel turns, and for the first time I notice just how many freckles he has. They’re scattered across his nose and cheeks, a few darker than the others. His brows lift when Karo picks up two knives at once and throws them. Jensen’s face lights up, and for some fucking reason I’m still watching him instead of Karo.
The Jester slinks up beside me, and I’ve been wondering how long it would take before he appeared. I’m not lucky enough for him to vanish again when his target is standing beside me.
“Interesting.”
I don’t look at him. “What is?”
“You.”
I shake my head and turn to him. “Do you have a point? My ears bleed every time you speak.”
“You’re staring at Lucky,” he whispers, leaning in.
My eyes flick to his. “Lucky?”
He nods. “Yeah, lucky he’s alive. Fitting really.”
My gaze flicks back to Jensen.
“You’re staring at him again.”
I roll my eyes. “And you’re still talking.”
“You’re watching him smile.”
There is something different about his voice, so I turn my head to see the Jester watching me watch Jensen. “Are you keeping fucking score?”
“Should I be?” he throws back.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” I ask as I glance back at Jensen.
He shakes his head. “Not when I’m jealous.”
My head snaps back toward him, and his grin stretches the length of his face. At least he is honest.
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“It is.” His gaze slides past me to Jensen. “So I’m deciding how painful his death is going to be.”
“Why do you even need to kill him? Do you even know what’s on that flash drive?”
His eyes widen. Yes, dipshit, I know about the drive.
“It doesn’t matter at this point—he has stolen the attention of what’s mine. I don’t take that lightly.”
“I’m not yours.”
“Well,” he says quietly, “I fucking hate that too.”
