Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants) - Page 120

Ari

Ilovecarnivalswith all the fun and games. Coleyville is usually pretty boring. Nothing exciting ever happens here until the carnival comes to town, transforming the town into a hub of activity. Families come together to enjoy the rides. I’ve even persuaded my mom, even though our relationship is defective at best.

“Come on, Mom.” I frown at the tall, slender woman who’d given birth to me but pretends I don’t exist for the most part. “It’s just five bucks.” As long as she’s here, she can make herself useful.

I have some money in my pocket, but I want to use it for the rides. The stuffed sloth sitting on the shelf of the ring toss booth is special, though. It would make a great addition to all the stuffies I already have.

“You’re not a child anymore,” Mom says, scanning the faces of the people around us. She’s pathetic. As if I don’t know what she’s doing. Picking up men at bars isn’t enough. She’s looking for the next hookup to bleed dry. “I’m not giving you my hard-earned money to spend on stuffed toys.”

Hard-earned money? That’s ironic. She never works. I bite back my retort about what she really does for that money, but the last time I said something like that she slapped my cheek. Now I mutter beneath my breath and never to her face. It doesn’t change the way I feel about her. She doesn’t care about me. I’ve learned not to say certain things when she’s within earshot.

Reluctantly, I dip into my pocket and pull out the money I’ve saved up from drawing stuff for the kids at school who couldn’t draw to save their lives. It’s how I have money at all. I don’t get any allowance like most of my classmates.

I hand over the money to the carny, who gives me five rings. Mom glares at me.

“A waste of money. You know these games are rigged.”

“I can do it.”

“You can’t do shit, Ari. Take back your money and go.”

“Sorry, no refunds,” the carny said.

“Jesus. And I thought you were getting smarter.”

She slaps me upside the head. The carny gives me a pitying look.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Normally, you have to land five rings to win a prize, but I’ll let you pick if you can get three rings.”

I beam a smile at the man. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Mom snorts. “And of course your pretty face gets you what you want again.”

She’s always saying shit like that whenever people give me what I ask for or bend the rules a little bit for me. Contrary to what she says, I’m not stupid. I can see I’m a bit more than average in looks, but there are all kinds of beautiful people around. She’s not hard to look at either, which I guess is the reason she finds guys so easily. Too bad she could never get them to stick around for long.

Biting my bottom lip, I focus on the bottles and toss my first ring. Mom jostles me, and the ring goes askew, missing the bottles altogether.

“Hey, you did that on purpose.”

She laughs, the sound cruel.

“I’m just pulling your chain. You have four more rings.”

But the damage is done. With the tension running through me, I only get one ring around a bottle.

“Sorry, kid,” the carny says.

“Wait, I’m trying again.”

“This is boring. I’m going for a walk-around.”

Thank fuck.

“Jeez, kid, I feel sorry for you,” the carny says.

“Does that mean you’ll let me choose a prize, even if I don’t get the three rings?”

“Sorry. Three rings is the best I can do for you.”

Tags: Gianni Holmes Dark
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