Circus Save Me, page 19
Without speaking, he gently places me on the bed and I watch with my broken heart scattered around me as he leaves me. Alcide watches me from just inside the tent. His face empty of emotion. He looks numb, but that's okay, I am feeling enough for the two of us. Guilt is wrapping around my body with regret, Blain might not blame me yet, but he will.
Without speaking, Alcide comes and sits next to me on the bed, his elbows on his knees as he looks at the floor. He is silent for a moment and I wonder if he is going to say anything.
“He-he can’t be gone,” he whispers, my usual confident and charming ringmaster gone in the flash of an eye.
“Alcide - I'm sorry.” It’s not nearly enough but it keeps slipping from my lips, not that he seems to hear me.
“Did you know he saved me?” he says around a bitter laugh, it soon turns to sobs before he grips his thighs and staunches his crying.
“When?” I ask curiously.
“When I was younger. I was a poor kid, turning tricks. I had just started at the circus when it was owned by Nixon’s old man. Back then it was more of a place of torture. I always had this dream in my head of it being about family, not exhibitions. Not somewhere for people to gawk at us, but a place to belong. Nixon’s father was a bastard, a stone-cold bastard. I had strung up the lights ‘wrong’.” He lets out another bitter laugh. “It was an excuse to beat me. It was bad. I remember laying on the grass drenched in my own blood when Nixon came charging in. He protected me from him.”
“What was Nixon like back then?” I ask curiously. I watch a beautiful smile grace his face as he thinks about his brother.
“Quiet, even then. I never understood why but he was always there when you needed him. He just knew… He knew I was like him and he decided to stick with me. He protected me quite a lot, and in turn I promised him I would free him from his father’s abusive hands…” He looks at me, the tears trailing down his cheeks. “Have you ever seen his back?” He asks.
I hesitantly nod, and he frowns in pain.
“Back then, he had less scars, but I failed to protect him and instead he got between me and his father. His father tried to kill him for that, and almost succeeded until my power decided to reveal itself. I charmed his father into walking off a cliff. Some of the older circus performers didn't agree with the torture either, and together we chased off his father's friends and I nursed Nixon back to health. When he woke up he was different, more withdrawn. He hardly ever smiled, until you.”
I wipe at the tears streaming down my face and stare at him again. I know I should feel cold at Alcide’s causal mention of killing Nixon’s dad, I always knew there was something darker about Alcide. But, I can’t find it in me to care, a part of me is pleased that he killed Nixon’s abusive father.
“What happened to the other performers?” I ask quietly.
“Some stayed, some chose to leave now that they weren't slaves. Those who stayed helped me build this, build my dream for a safe place for us freaks. But Nixon? He was the start of it all, he pushed me to dream, pushed me to be me and then protected me. He can’t be gone.” His voice breaks on the last word, spreading agony through my chest. I don’t know how to make this better.
Slowly, the others trickle in as if they need to be with each other, like they sense their ringmaster’s pain. Alcide looks like a broken shell of himself and so do the others. All of their eyes are red rimmed, and their shoulders slumped.
“Thank you for telling me that,” I whisper and grip his hand. He nods, and we fade to silence, all fighting our own demons and broken hearts. It feels wrong, it feels so empty in here without my gentle giant taking up space. The message on the wagon flashes through my head again and I cringe before thinking it through. It’s a slow process, my head hurting from all the crying and my heart still painful.
“Do we know for sure it was his hand?” I feel Alcide freeze next to me as he thinks through my question. “Or that they are telling the truth? What if he is still alive?” I ask softly.
“We need to be sure,” Alcide confirms, rebuilding his usual confidence as he stands. He nods, and the others’ faces fill with purpose even as their eyes hold pain.
“I’m coming with you,” I say, standing up from the bed to face them.
“It’s not safe for you. You will stay behind and that is final. Come on,” he says to the others, ignoring the fury radiating from me. Behind it all is sadness. They think I am weak, and I haven't exactly proved them wrong today. It’s my fault Nixon is gone, although I refuse to believe he is dead, especially now that the shock has worn off. I would know if he was, my heart wouldn't be able to keep beating. Blain throws me a look before following Alcide, and Jesse drops his head before following after them. Only Rex hesitates.
“Stay safe, Wildcat.” His voice is empty, and I can see the darkness in his eyes as he turns and follows his brothers, leaving me all alone in the tent, my heart shattering at the idea of losing them too.
I am pacing around the ring of the big top, my emotions warring for a place within me. Anger surges through me at being left behind, that they think I am weak. It’s like I am a slave again, a possession rather than a person with feelings and opinions. Alcide spouts that I am equal here, like family, but when things get tough, he has decided what is best for me without considering my opinion. Part of me knows that he is doing this to keep me safe, that he can’t bear to lose me too. No, we haven't lost Nixon, I won’t think that way. I try to rationalise that Alcide is so used to being in charge, and people following his orders that he does it without thinking. The fact that the guys went along with it too fuels my blood with a rage that I hadn’t known I possessed.
Worry for the guys also fills me, I can’t lose them either. It was so easy for them to leave me behind for my own good, for their peace of mind, but what about mine? I am just as worried about them, but it is fine for them to march off into danger. As a slave, I’ve never had my own free will. Always owned, my mind was invariably made up for me. The abhorrent treatment of women has consistently felt unjust, unfair. It was not until I experienced the freedom of being treated as an equal, that I realise how important it really is. Now that has been taken away from me again, I’m not going to take it lying down. They have taught me how to have a mind of my own, encouraged it, but they feel free to shut that down when it benefits them..
I’m going to follow them. Why should I stay behind? I care for Nixon just as much as they do. He is probably injured. I know that I’m not the best fighter, but I can help bring him back and protect him if I need to. They have already been gone an hour or so, they should be back by now. What if they are in trouble? Mind made up, I stalk towards the exit, freezing in place when I see several menacing looking guys staring at me from the tent flaps.
I don’t recognise them, and from their expressions they mean me harm. Their next comments confirm it.
“They left one of their women behind… Unprotected.” He sneers, his sick gaze running over me.
Fury fills me.
“Why is it you men always assume because I am a woman I can’t protect myself?” I demand, fire fueling my voice.
The man looks at his friends and sniggers before taking a step towards me, a couple of his thug buddies following him.
“Okay sweetheart, you want a piece of me? Help yourself.” He leers, clearly underestimating me.
Right, enough is enough. I need to prove to everyone, even to my guys, that I can protect myself. They are never going to treat me equally if they think they have to look after me and wrap me in bubble wrap every time a difficult situation appears.
The first guy rushes towards me and I run forward to meet him. That throws him off guard, he expected me to run in the opposite direction. Channeling what Jesse taught me, I place my hands on his shoulders and jump, using my momentum to flip over the top of his head. I focus on the fact that these bastards are here to hurt me and the guys to fuel my actions. Spinning so I am facing his back, I place my hands where Nixon and Blain have shown me and twist his neck sharply as I was taught. I try to ignore the sickening crack of his neck as he drops to the floor before he can even realise what is going on. I know this moment will haunt my dreams, but I can’t focus on that right now. These guys hurt Nixon and now they’ve come for me.
The other guys have stopped and watch in shock as their buddy dies at my hands. Their faces twist in fury as they advance towards me. I close my eyes briefly and call on the power running through my veins to toughen my skin. I look around the tent to see if there is anything I can use as a weapon, as these guys clearly have knives. There is nothing here, I guess I must become the weapon. I don’t have time to think any further other than to trust my body as I am surrounded, more unknown men filling the tent.
Everything blurs around me as I focus on protecting myself from the advancing men, my skin tingles and I know my powers are helping me. It doesn’t help that I don’t have a weapon. Almost as I think those words my hands tingle and my nails have grown into what look like razor sharp talons. I spin like a tornado, my body faster than usual as I throw out my arms, slashing and hitting at anything that comes close to me. Finally, there is just me and one more guy, who is looking nervous now that his buddies are laying on the ground. I punch the last guy in the face, catching him off guard and knocking him out when I hear running footsteps.
Cursing, I spin around, covered in other people’s blood and panting from exertion. There in the entrance is Rex, Jesse, and Alcide watching me with their mouths open wide in shock. Blain walks in clapping, his usual smirk in place but I can see that he is proud of me.
“See Alcide, I told you she would be fine,” he goads as he walks towards me, his eyes running over my body.
His words may sound tough, but I can see him checking me for injuries as he gets closer. Picking up one of my hands he runs a finger along one of my talons, shaking his head as it slices his finger. Placing the finger in his mouth he looks at me with lust in his eyes, as if all the danger and bloodshed has turned him on. Strange man.
“Talons. Why am I not surprised Harpy?” he teases.
Jesse and Rex rush towards me and I can’t help but to breathe a sigh of relief as I see they are uninjured, even though I am still mad at them.
“Rhea! Are you okay?” Rex asks, eyeing the blood covering me.
“I’m fine. I protected myself,” I say shortly, turning to look at Alcide who hasn’t moved from the tent entrance. “You left me,” I accuse.
He nods at me, taking slow steps forwards.
“I did. I thought you’d be safe here. I see I was wrong. I just wanted to keep you safe. I’m sorry Rhea.”
The fact that he has admitted that cools my anger, and I think back to what he said before. This isn’t always going to be easy, this is as new to them as it is to me. We were going to have to learn to trust and rely on each other, and that included them relying on me.
“Rhea,” Jesse calls and I turn to the youngest member of the circus.
He is practically bouncing up and down on his feet. I turn to the others and see that whilst they are not acting like they usually do, they seem more positive, their eyes gleaming.
“What? What happened?” I ask, nerves filling me at their expressions.
“We found him Rhea. Nixon is alive.”
As soon as they tell me about Nixon, I want to go and get him, but they refuse. They say we need to re-group, to plan. I disagree. I am sitting with the guys, a bowl full of broth in front of me, which I am stirring aimlessly. I don’t have an appetite, in fact, I feel sick after the events of the day play through my mind. I take a spoonful of the food to please the guys, all of them watching me nervously, although they are pretending not to. I stir the broth again before sighing and placing down my spoon.
“Tell me again, what happened?” My voice is weary.
I have heard this before, but I need to hear it again. Jesse looks up, his eyes are sad. He hates that I was left behind for my own safety but was attacked anyway.
“We went back to where we were attacked and followed their tracks back to their camp, it wasn’t far from the town.” He explains again in a low voice.
Rex walks over from his place by the cooking pot and sits next to me, placing his hand on my knee. Usually, the gesture would comfort me, but my emotions are all over the place right now.
“When we got to the camp, we could hear loud cheering noises, so we followed them and we saw Nixon.” Rex takes over the story, but as he stops I know there is more that they didn’t tell me the first time.
“Tell me,” I demand quietly, I will not be coddled.
Rex and Jesse look at each other like they are deciding if I can handle hearing what comes next.
“Tell me!” I cry out, needing to know.
I am overjoyed that Nixon is still alive, but I need to know if he is okay.
Blain throws his spoon down into his broth and looks up at me, fury in his eyes but I don’t think it’s directed at me.
“He was tied to a whipping post, Harpy. Is that what you want to hear?” He spits out, his anger making his words harsh. “He was being whipped in front of them all, and they were cheering as if it was some kind of sport.” He stands up from the table and looks at the others. “And we did nothing.”
“Blain. We spoke about this. We couldn’t attack then, not in the state Nixon was in, we wouldn’t have made it back,” Alcide pipes up, his expression tired like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I know,” he mutters, and it’s self-loathing I can hear in his voice. “But we just left him. Again.”
The others fall silent and look at their half-finished meals, seems I’m not the only one who isn’t hungry.
“There is nothing we can do to help him tonight. Get some sleep and we will come up with a plan to get him tomorrow.” Alcide stands and I can see what it cost him to say this. I know that Alcide and Nixon go back a long way, that he is his oldest friend. The others nod, and I feel my anger start to rise. Not at them, but the situation. They would want to leave me behind again, even though I have proven myself. I still haven't fully forgiven them for that, and I can’t take the risk that they will leave me behind again.
I stand up and push away from the table, all eyes falling on me as I do this.
“I’m heading to bed,” I inform them, and I know the grey bags under my eyes show how tired I am.
Rex nods and stands up, moving towards me.
“I’ll come with you,” he softly tells me, and we walk towards his tent.
Stepping inside, I start to pace the small space, my emotions needing an outlet. Nixon is alive. My heart soars, only to crash a second later. He may be alive, but the hunters are hurting him. They told us he was dead, so they aren't using him as bait or ransom. Which means they are probably going to kill him. Why haven't they then? A dark part of me thinks it’s because they want to stretch out his pain for as long as possible.
“Rhea.” Rex’s soft voice pulls me out of my anxious pacing.
I look over at him and from his troubled expression, I can tell he is struggling with leaving his brother behind just as much as I am. I hurry over to him and hold back tears as he wraps his arms around me.
“We have to get him back,” I mutter into his chest.
“I know.” Is his only reply as he runs his hands up and down my back in comfort.
I look up at him again to see he is gazing at me. Our eyes lock and our despair turns to something else, something carnal. A need I’ve never experienced before runs through me and I see it reflected in Rex’s eyes. My mouth crashes into his and I moan as he kisses me back, enjoying the feel of him exploring my mouth. My hands run up his back, pulling his shirt up as I go.
“Rhea…” He gasps out around my kisses, stopping as I pull his shirt over his head.
I should be taking this slower, I’ve never gone this far with anyone other than Jesse, but right now I need this comfort. Looking at Rex and seeing the mixture of desire and despair across his face, I can tell he needs it too.
“Shhh…” I murmur into his mouth, returning his kisses.
I feel the moment he gives over to his desire as his hands start to roam my body. He feels unsure until I moan into his mouth as his hand runs over my breast. The uncertainty disappears as he pulls me closer to him, his cock pressed against my body, his arousal clear. I drag my nails down his back which seems to spur him on more. I let out a little shriek as he lifts me up and carries me to the bed. Gently placing me on it he stares down at me, his eyes alight with desire. I bite down on my lip as I look back at him, suddenly remembering that I’m still a novice at this.
I forget this as he kneels down and climbs up onto the bed, and like one of the animals he loves, starts crawling towards me, the gleam of a predator clear to see. I lay back as he climbs over me, his hand skimming up my stomach and coming to rest on my breast. My back arches off the bed as he squeezes my nipple through the fabric. I reach down and pull at my top, desperate to get rid of the layer between us. He chuckles deeply as he watches me before leaning forward to capture my mouth, his hand working its way back to my breast.
I am desperate to feel him, and I reach towards him, fighting past his waistband until I feel his hard, velvety cock in my hand. I start to stroke the length of him, surprised at how big he feels, pausing when he groans and closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine. Worried I’ve hurt him, I start to pull away.
“Don’t stop Rhea, it feels so good,” his breathy comment brings a smile to my lips as I carry on the delicious torture.
He decides to get me back and slides his hand down the front of my leggings, cupping me. I gasp into his mouth as he gently strokes my folds before pushing a single finger inside me. I gasp again, still a little sore from my night with Jesse. Rex must feel me stiffen as he pulls away to look at me.
“Sorry, I forgot you’re new to all this. I’m too eager, I’ve wanted to do this for weeks,” he tells me before kissing me deeply again.
