“No.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not if you hold the fireball right. It’s awesome, though, isn’t it?”
Ronnie had to agree. Marcus extinguished two of the balls and then relit them again by touching them to the third. On the ground lay an upturned magician’s hat, and Ronnie watched as people began tossing money into it.
“Where does he get the fireballs?”
“He makes them. I can show you how. It’s not hard. All you need is a cotton T-shirt, needle and thread, and some lighter fluid.”
As the music continued to blare, Marcus tossed the three fireballs to the guy with the Mohawk and lit two more. They juggled them back and forth between each other like circus clowns using bowling pins, faster and faster, until one throw went awry.
Except that it didn’t. The guy with the pierced eyebrow caught it soccer-ball style and began bouncing it from foot to foot as though it were nothing more than a Hacky Sack. After extinguishing three of the fireballs, the other two followed suit, the entire troupe kicking the two fireballs back and forth between them. The crowd started to clap, and money rained into the hat as the music built to a crescendo. Then all at once, the remaining fireballs were caught and extinguished simultaneously as the song thundered to a close.
Ronnie had to admit she’d never seen anything like it. Marcus walked over to Blaze and folded her into a long, lingering kiss that seemed wildly inappropriate in public. He opened his eyes slowly, staring right at Ronnie before he pushed Blaze away.
“Who’s that?” he asked, motioning in Ronnie’s direction.
“That’s Ronnie,” Blaze said. “She’s from New York. I just met her.”
Mohawk and Pierced Eyebrow joined Marcus and Blaze in their scrutiny, making Ronnie feel distinctly uncomfortable.
“New York, huh?” Marcus asked, pulling a lighter from his pocket and igniting one of the fireballs. He held the flaming orb motionless between his thumb and forefinger, making Ronnie wonder again how he could do that without getting burned.
“Do you like fire?” he called out.
Without waiting for an answer, he threw the fireball in her direction. Ronnie jumped out of the way, too startled to respond. The ball landed behind her just as a police officer rushed forward, stamping out the flame.
“You three,” he called out, pointing. “Out. Now. I’ve told you before that you can’t do your little show on the pier, and next time, I swear I’m gonna bring you in.”
Marcus held up his hands and took a step backward. “We were just leaving.”
The boys grabbed their coats and began moving up the pier, toward the carnival rides. Blaze followed, leaving Ronnie alone. Ronnie felt the officer’s gaze on her, but she ignored him. Instead, she hesitated only briefly before going after them.
4
Marcus
He’d known she would follow them. They always did. Especially the new girls in town. That was the thing with girls: The worse he treated them, the more they wanted him. They were stupid like that. Predictable, but stupid.
He leaned against the planter that fronted the hotel, Blaze wrapping her arms around him. Ronnie was sitting across from them on one of the benches; off to the side, Teddy and Lance were slurring their words as they tried to get the attention of the girls who walked past them. They were already tanked—hell, they were a little tanked even before the show—and as usual, all but the ugliest of girls ignored them. Half the time, even he ignored them.
Blaze, meanwhile, was nibbling on his neck, but he ignored that, too. He was sick of the way she always hung on him whenever they were out in public. Sick of her in general. If she weren’t so good in bed, if she didn’t know the things that really turned him on, he would have dumped her a month ago for one of the three or four or five other girls he regularly slept with. But right now he wasn’t interested in them, either. Instead, he stared at Ronnie, liking the purple streak in her hair and her tight little body, the glittery effect of her eye shadow. It was sort of an upscale, trampy style, despite the stupid shirt she was wearing. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
He pushed against Blaze’s hips, wishing she weren’t here. “Go get me some fries,” he said. “I’m kind of hungry.”
Blaze pulled back. “I only have a couple of dollars left.”
He could hear the whine in her voice. “So? That should cover it. And make sure you don’t eat any of them, either.”
He meant it. Blaze was getting a little soft in the belly, a little puffy in the face. No surprise considering that lately she’d been drinking almost as much as Teddy and Lance.