Page 22 of Carnival

Rose

I sit up in the bed, stretching, lifting my arms above my head. A yawn slips out of me, and I try to rub the sleep off my eyes, the thick duvet pooling around my waist. The previous night floods my memories, and I look to the side, spotting James sleeping soundly next to me.

A small chuckle escapes me because I was right — it did slip out while we were sleeping.

As silently as possible, I leave the bedroom and enter the bathroom, stripping out of the remaining clothes I have on and stepping into the shower. The warm water soothes my aching skin, the spots where James went crazy last night stinging slightly.

It takes me a while to get out, the warm water luring me to stay. I step out of the shower, a cloud of steam following me as I dry my body off with a towel. I gasp when I see the state of my neck and shoulders — filled with love bites and bruises from his hands.

“Damn you, James.’’ I mumble, throwing on a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized shirt, sliding my feet into my slippers. My stomach growls, and I head for the kitchen, putting on an apron and getting the breakfast ready.

I make some scrambled eggs and fry some bacon, given that those were the only edible ingredients in the fridge. And I had those thanks to Noelle, who packed them for me. I didn’t spend much time here, unless it was exam season, so there was never any need to hoard food in the cupboard and fridge.

Footsteps fill my ears, and I turn to see James leaning against the doorframe, arms folded in front of his chest. His eyes are still sleepy, his upper body bare, and he's wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that are already giving me naughty ideas.

He smirks and clears his throat. “You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.’’

I roll my eyes. “Clever.’’

He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us in a couple of long strides, coming to a stop right in front of me. He looks down at me, and sometimes, I can’t help but think that the massive height difference between us isn’t fair.

He takes the wooden spoon out of my hands and steps closer to the stove, stirring the eggs in the pan.

I just stand closely, watching him as he adds seasonings, then finds plates with ease, and splitting it into two portions.

He puts the bacon on paper towels, extracting extra oils before putting them neatly next to the scrambled eggs.

I take a seat at the kitchen island, and he sits across from me, pushing a plate in front of me.

“Eat,’’ he says. “You need it.’’

I don’t argue, my stomach announcing its presence with another loud growl. Embarrassed, I simply dig in, blowing on the food before taking a bite, busying myself with the meal.

“So,’’ I swallow another mouthful of eggs. “What did you and Hudson… discuss?’’

James scoffs, taking a bite himself. “He’s not killing me just yet. As of right now, I’m in charge of your protection.’’

I lift a brow. “And I need protection… why, exactly?”

It takes him a moment to respond. His eyes are glued to my face, and he’s internally debating how much to reveal and whether or not it would be a good idea to fill me in.

However, I don’t relent. This is something I need to know, and if he doesn’t tell me immediately, I won’t stop pestering him until he tells me what I need to know.

This isn’t the same as him keeping me in the dark about the past — this is very much happening right now.

James sighs, noticing the look of determination on my face. He finishes his food quickly, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He straightens his back, then starts speaking.

He fills me in on everything that happened in the basement, and I have to admit I’m somewhat relieved that he definitely wasn’t harmed.

It takes him approximately ten minutes to recall every detail, and I don’t interrupt. My attention is solely on him as I absorb the information he’s giving me. It’s a lot, and I have to try and keep shock off my face.

“Woah,’’ I breathe out, putting the fork down. “You’re telling me that my parents died because… what? They were a part of that organization and wanted to leave?”

James nods. “That’s what Hudson believes. And I’m inclined to agree.’’

“Right,’’ I nod, swallowing. “And… why would they care about me? They can’t possibly believe I have that flash drive, can they?”

“I’m not sure,’’ he sighs. “If that’s the case, that means that you were at the carnival twice, meaning you could’ve died twice. Once it was my fault,’’ his jaw clenches. “And it’s sheer luck that you’re unharmed.’’

“It’s also why I have security on me at all times now.’’

“Correct. You’ll be watched closely by Hudson’s men, and in the meantime, Arlo will find those that followed us from New Orleans.’’

“But I really don’t have that drive.’’

“I know that,’’ he nods. “They don’t. Even if you tell them that, they won’t believe you, because if somehow your parents got their hands on it and wanted out, which resulted in them getting killed, it would be reasonable to believe they’d leave it to you.’’

“I was four years old when they passed. I don’t even remember them.’’

“I know, it’s ridiculous. But that just means we need to find it before they do.’’

I lean back against the chair, multiple thoughts swirling through my head. James notices the look on my face and pushes his chair back, then comes to stand next to me. In one swift motion, he lifts me up to sit on the kitchen counter, his hands on each side of me, caging me in.

“Rest assured, I won’t stop until all of them are dead. Anyone who is a threat to you will be dead, Rose. I won’t let them hurt you.’’

Warmth spreads through my chest, and my eyes swell with tears. He reaches up, brushing a fallen tear with his thumb. Surprisingly, his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to his rough personality.

“It shouldn’t take us long to find the drive.’’

“How can you be so sure?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper. I’m reluctant to believe him, because if it were that easy to find it, his organization would’ve found it by now.

“Because unlike the people I worked for, Hudson has allies, too, not just enemies. He sees you as his own, and he’ll ensure your safety. I don’t doubt he’ll call in favors just to track it down and pay a hefty sum to buy it off whoever has it.’’

I pause. “Wait… worked for? As in, past tense?”

“Do you really think I’d work for people that want you dead?”

“Didn’t we agree already that this line of work isn’t something you can just quit?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Yes, but I think they got the message when I threw away my work phone and stopped taking their calls.’’

His hands come to rest on my hips, holding me tightly as he stares down at me. For the first time, I can see a hint of vulnerability flashing in his eyes, and it doesn’t immediately disappear. It’s there, and he’s allowing me to see it.

“You’re the most important person in my life, Rose. You’re all I have. And I’ll be damned if anyone takes you away from me.’’

◆◆◆

A small frown tugs on my lips when the doorbell rings. James just went to take a shower, and since I’m being watched by Hudson’s men, I’m not worried about my safety, but I am confused as to why they’d go against Hudson’s wishes and make contact.

My feet drag me to the door, then I peek through the peephole, and sure enough, it is one of his men that I’d seen around previously, whether it was last night or a while ago at their base.

“Yes?” I ask once the door is open.

The man stands tall in front of me, holding a box. My eyes flick between him and the box, and it doesn’t seem to be a heavy one.

“You have a package,’’ he explains, handing me the box. “We’ve checked it; it’s safe.’’

I didn’t order anything, nor am I expecting a package of any sort — not that I have anyone to send me anything. I thank the man, then close the door and go to the living room. I sit on the couch and open the box, only to be greeted with an iPad.

My frown deepens as I unlock it. It’s rather empty, and the account is made for a fake name, given that it’s John Smith. There isn’t a single contact inside, nor is it connected to another device.

Then, I open the camera roll, and my heart sinks to my feet.

It’s filled with videos, and I click on the first one.

The scene… is gory.

It’s a security footage video, and it’s not in the highest quality, but it’s good enough that I can figure out what’s happening. There’s no date, so I can’t tell when it was recorded, but I immediately recognize James.

It has a sound, and when I bring it up, I instantly get hit by a wave of nausea, the dots connecting in my mind and the last puzzle being put in its place.

The songs playing in the background are from the carnival, but I can’t tell which year they’re from. On the screen is James, with his signature clown mask, a white shirt that’s stained in blood, and a big butcher knife in his hand.

He moves toward a man that I recognize as one of his victims, and the poor man doesn’t stand a chance. He’s backed into a corner, begging and pleading for his life. He’s trembling, shaking, before he slumps to his knees.

All I can focus on is the laughter that fills my ears.

James laughs, and it’s disturbing. It’s dark, devious, and inhumane, like a character from a horror movie. He doesn’t hesitate, not even for a moment, as he swings the butcher knife, slicing through the flesh of the man, right across his chest.

The man screams in agony, my body chilling. It’s one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever seen, but I cannot look away. All I can see of James’ face are his eyes, and they’re filled with a craze so intense that it causes my stomach to churn.

A wave of nausea builds inside me, and I’m close to throwing up. The man’s pleas don’t reach James’ ears, and he continues to mutilate him, the butcher knife now entirely covered in crimson, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blood in my entire life.

My hands are shaking, vision filled with tears.

I knew this.

I knew James killed this man, as well as many other people, but I never thought I’d get to see it firsthand. The more I swipe through the gallery, the more I’m met with videos more disturbing than the previous, yet not as much as the next one.

James Maddox is a monster. He’s killed people in cold blood, a narcissistic psychopath with no regard for human life. Yet, he vowed to protect me. How could I ever trust to be safe in this man’s arms? How could I ever allow him to see the vulnerability and the insecurity I’ve been hiding for years?

It takes me a moment to collect myself. My eyes don’t move from the screen, and I’m a little puzzled when police sirens fill my ears. Then, my eyes widen a little. The sound isn’t from the iPad — it’s in real life, right in front of the building.

A message pops up on the screen, and my blood runs cold, the color draining from my face.

“Good luck with convincing him it wasn’t you.’’

In an instant, everything from the iPad is gone. All the videos, all the footage I spent the past five minutes watching, and the message that popped up — they’ve all been wiped clean.

It’s precisely when James decides to come through the door, hair wet from the shower. Fear fills my body, and I’m unable to move from the spot on the couch. I swallow thickly, and James instantly notices my reaction.

“Hellion?” He takes a step forward. “What’s wrong?”

I open my mouth to respond, but don’t get the chance to. The front door of the apartment bursts open, and multiple police officers rush inside, weapons drawn, pointing at James. My eyes widen, and I don’t know what’s happening.

“James Maddox,’’ one of them yells. “You’re under arrest.’’