Page 50 of Malice and Surrender
“I don’t know, but maybe your crazy ass will get lost in the house of mirrors, and we won’t have to listen to you wail in here.” I paused at the top of the stairs and looked back at her. “At least if you’re over there, people are already used to the haunting shrieks of insanity coming from inside.”
“Funny, Snake. Ha, ha,” I heard her yell as I jogged down the stairs. The others could try to pry her crazy ass out of here. I wasn’t spending another second more than I had to. There were some things that even I, as the enforcer, refused to do.
Heading to my bike, I paused and looked over at the amusement park as an idea came to me. I walked over to the fence and tried to spot Wilder among the piles of broken things. He was always out here somewhere. It amazed me that the other guys hadn’t seen the man lurking on the property. Then again, maybe they had but were too drunk to register that the walking pile of garbage was more than the booze talking.
“Wilder, man, you out here?” I called out and heard a hushed, “Shhh, this way.”
I looked around for the source of the voice and spotted a pile of mangled rides near the fence. A head slowly rose from inside one of the rollercoaster cars. This guy is fucking crazy. What are you doing? Walking along the edge of the fence, I ran my fingers along the chain link, making little thudding noises as I went.
“Hey, man,” I said once I reached the spot I’d seen Wilder appear. I stared inside the car that was at eye level, searching for the man himself.
“Shhhh, I’m down here. I don’t want them to know where I am.”
My eyes dropped, and there he was, lying on the ground, staring up at me from under the massive pile. Wilder had painted himself today, the same mishmash of colors as the cars. How the hell had he done that? Nope, wasn’t asking.
“Do you want me to look somewhere else?” I asked.
“Naw, man, no need to be paranoid. What’s up?”
I let that comment sink in and couldn’t help wondering if he saw the irony in that statement. In the last ten minutes, I’d dealt with three levels of insanity, but Wilder and his ridiculous behavior were at least humorous.
“How easy would it be to get a tracker?” I asked.
“That’s all you want?” He scoffed like I was the one being ridiculous and then shuffled back under the pile. I heard him inside, rooting around like a massive rat. Then again, the only difference separating him from a rat at this point was that Wilder could talk.
A moment later, I heard an “ah ha,” and the man reappeared, but this time from inside the car. What the hell? Did he have an entire fucking system of tunnels? Wilder reached out and stuck his fingers through the links, and I took the small black square from his fingers.
“You just happen to have a tracker in here with you?”
“Yeah, of course. You never know when you’re going to need one.”
I licked my lips and swallowed as I wondered how many of us had trackers on us already. Did he watch us all day? Nope, not going there either. If he did, he did. I didn’t want to know about it.
“So, how does it work?”
“Turn it on, sync it to your phone, and put it on the person you want to track. Easy,” Wilder said, moving back into the center of the blue and yellow car. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked before I could make my escape.
“Sure,” I said, not really sure I wanted to know after the last question.
“Chase told me that girls like flowers, but it doesn’t seem to be working,” he said, and my eyebrow rose. When the hell had Wilder talked to Chase? And why about flowers?
“Well, that was your first mistake. Chase ended up with Naomi. Does that seem like the right person to ask?” It was a low blow, but it made me feel better.
Wilder stared at me as if contemplating the joke as a real moment of understanding. “No, it does not. Good point, no flowers.”
“Okay,” I said, not sure what else to say at this point.
“I need another idea,” he said. “I’m unskilled in the ways of creating affection.”
I wanted to yell shocking but kept it to myself. “Do you know what her interests are? Does she like sailing or biking or books? Maybe she likes art or animals.”
“No, why would I need to know that?” he asked, and my brain started to fry.
I could only handle so much insanity in a day before my meter was completely full, and it was getting pretty fucking close to full now.
“Alright, forget knowing her interests. Girls love it when you spend time with them. Take her out, make her a part of your day, and show her that you care about her interests. They also like a good meal,” I said, hoping that I didn’t just sentence some random girl to death.
“Fuck, you’re good. I’m coming to you from now on,” Wilder said.
