Page 31 of Blackmailed By the Incubus

My stomach flutters at the thought and I pause in my dish washing to glance at the place we called home our entire lives. It’s never been much, but I keep it clean.

Still, there is too much darkness here. Nights of Mama screaming and babbling incoherently. Nights spent watching Warrick and Aiden fight for dominance where I nearly lost Aiden. Days of Mama’s berating and belittling my every worth.

A human is worthless in a carnival of monsters. My lack of talent made me a liability, a useless cost Mama has to foot. At least Aiden draws a crowd. The most I’ve been able to contribute is running the shop.

“Sera?”

The trailer door swings open, and Aiden sprints up the steps to stand before me. His dark hair is disheveled and damp with sweat. Beads of it dot the hard muscles of his chest. Whatever he’d been helping with had him removing his top so he’s only in his jeans and all that delicious skin.

We fucked twice before he left this morning and still, just seeing him has my pussy aching. I’m beginning to think I have a sex addiction, but only with this man.

“Hey.” I reach for the dish towel and dry my fingers. “Everything okay?”

His dark gaze drifts over me. “Yeah, was helping take Megan’s tank apart for the move. We felt you get sad.”

I blink. “I wasn’t...” I remember thinking of Mama and the overwhelming sadness of being a hindrance. “It’s nothing. Stupid, actually.”

His hands close around my middle and I’m drawn into him. “What’s wrong?”

I start to shake my head. “Really, it’s nothing. I was thinking...” My gaze lowers to the center of his chest. “I hope Mama doesn’t come back.” I dare a peek up at him, expecting to see outrage, but he watches me silently. Waiting. “It’s always sonice when she’s gone. I feel a little like I can breathe and I’m not walking on eggshells.”

“We’ll get our own trailer tomorrow,” he says without missing a beat. “As soon as we stop, you can pick it out. It’ll be ours.”

As if his words have the power to lift the burden off my shoulders, my chest expands. The dread I’d been carting around shifts, and I can think properly.

“I would like that, but I haven’t saved up enough. Between our fees, materials for the shop and Mama, it just hasn’t—”

“We have enough.” He sweeps a lock of hair back behind my ear. “I’ve been putting money aside for us. We have enough for a trailer or if you want to get a house somewhere and raise our family. Whatever you want.”

Unimaginable excitement flares through me as I search his eyes. “Leave the carnival?”

“If you want. We can find something in the mountains, away from people. Just us and our babies.”

Babies. A home that isn’t constantly moving. Peace to build a life.

But away from all the people we’ve grown to love. Our weird little family.

“You don’t have to answer right now. We don’t even have to do it right away. Maybe in the future. We don’t care where we are as long as we have you.”

“A new trailer with heat would be nice,” I say with a little grin.

Aiden returns it with a kiss. “Done.” He kisses me again. Deeper. Longer. “Anything else?”

I loop my arms around his neck and return the peck of his lips. “Just one.”

He groans and lifts me up. I lock my legs around his hips and let him march us to the table. My hands reach for his jean snapswhen he sets me down. His drag my top up over my head, baring my breast.

“I had an idea earlier while taking the Funhouse down,” he says while licking a path down my belly.

“Yeah?”

His fingers tug on the snaps on my shorts. “Warrick and I are going to—”

The plan is interrupted by the latch wiggling under fumbling fingers. Aiden has just enough time to step in front of me when the door flies open and Mama staggers up the steps. Her unsteady feet catch the hem of her flowing skirt, and she collapses halfway up. The clatter of plastic beads and wooden bangles fill the silence as she tries to untangle herself and climb the last step.

The overpowering stench of bourbon unfolds into the cramped space, intermingling with the sour odor of sweat and burnt sugar. My stomach writhes beneath the wafting assault, and it’s only the fear of retaliation that keeps me from gagging.

“Where’s supper?” she slurs. “Why is this place a mess?” She tips into the sink and sends the bowl I’d been rinsing off the counter to shatter across the floor. “Stupid girl!” she shrieks, stumbling back from the jagged shards. “Good for nothing. Can’t do anything but open her legs—”

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