In Fury Lies Mischief (Midnight Mayhem 2)

He forces his thumb between my lips until my mouth is wide and that’s when I realize what he’s doing. He wants me to put the flame out with my mouth.

Slowly, he lowers the tip down into my mouth and I’m praying that the paraffin that I used to ignite the flames isn’t still toxic in my mouth. Fire eating is difficult. More difficult than fire breathing and I’ve got to admit, breathing and blowing fire is hard in general. If you so much as suck in any air, you’re lighting your entire insides on fire—but fire eating is hard for other reasons. One, being that a great fire breather should never blister themselves, and two, being that there has to be a quick reaction as to cutting off oxygen in your mouth, which is essentially what puts out the fire—not so much your saliva.

I wrap my lips around the flame that’s burning upward now, just as Killian squeezes his hand over my mouth, cutting off all oxygen. The fire goes out and the audience once again erupts into fits of applause.

I’m breathing so hard with my heart pounding in my chest that I don’t even realize I’m still on the ground and the curtains are being drawn

Killian helps me up. “You good?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“You’re a natural.” He kicks up his bike and wheels it to the back and back out the exit. I want to talk with him about last night, but I don’t know how to approach it. I just know that I want to. Their act isn’t for another two, so I make my way outside, coming face-to-face with him. He was obviously coming back in.

“Can we talk?” I ask nervously. “Before your act.”

“Ours. I still need you, but yeah.” He pulls out a smoke and lights it up.

“About last night…” Instantly, he drops his smoke on the ground and puts it out. He turns to leave, but I reach out for him.

He pulls away. “Don’t think into anything I say, Saskia.”

“How could I not!” I ask, and my hands are up doing the dramatic dance that girls seem to do any time they’re trying to drive a point home. “You say these things and act a certain way…”

“Sass… fucking stop.” He sighs. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone there with you, but I fuckin’ did because I’m an idiot. For so many reasons other than the ones that you’re aware of. It won’t happen again.” He turns, leaving me outside with a confused fucking brain and anger simmering so deep inside of me that I can’t fucking think straight.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone there with you…” My phone vibrates in my pocket and I reach for it aimlessly, pulling it out to see a text from Hope.

Hope: I’m in San Antonio. Can you meet with me?

I ignore her text and hit dial. When she doesn’t answer, I type out a reply. I’m in the middle of a show. Tomorrow?

I’m heading back inside when she replies. I know. I’m sorry. Can you meet me after the show?

Me: Ok.

Hope: But Saskia, I don’t want anyone knowing. I can’t risk people knowing that I’m here. I need you to sneak away. If you can, meet me at Tabella. It’s an Italian pizza shop in town that’s open twenty-four seven.

I reply instantly, telling her that I’ll find a way to meet her after the show.

The show that I don’t want to have to perform in right now after that conversation with Killian, much less get in the wheel with him.

But I do. We go through the acts like usual until the very end. I’m walking back to my RV, feeling sick to my stomach, when I bump into Kenan.

“That was electric!” He pulls me under his arm.

I laugh, heading upstairs to change.

“’Night, Kenan!” I call out, as he’s heading out to the party.

I sneak back through the RV, shutting the door behind myself. I’ve never been to San Antonio before, but I know that we’re right near the city. I can call a taxi to pick me up and take me to the pizza place. After throwing on a hoodie, I head back out.

I’m walking past Perse’s RV when I hear her call out to me.

I freeze, turning to face her and shocked to see not just her and King, but the rest of the Brothers too—along with Kaizer. I don’t know what they were talking about, but it looked heated.

Perse starts jogging over toward me. Shit. Shit. What am I going to say I’m doing leaving at this time with a damn hoodie over my head and my makeup not washed off.

“Where you going?” she asks, confused.

“I’ve—” I search her eyes, when I realize something. She’s my friend. Maybe I could trust her with this. “Do you promise not to say anything?”