Page 44 of One for the Money
I’m not safe anywhere, not really.
But I can do this. I can be uncomfortable, especially if the whole crew is expecting me. This is what being a part of a team is about, right? Supporting each other?
I slide my hand into his, marveling at how warm his is, how large it is compared to my own. He turns and pulls me out the door, a boyish grin on his face. I’ve never seen that expression on Jude before. Maybe doing this is the thing I need to cement myself as a member of this crew.
“It’sno secret that here at Cirque de Mordu, you have to be ready for the unexpected,” Jude says, arms spread wide as he addresses the crowd. It’s nearly sold out, which is impressive on its own for a travelling circus.
The crowd consists of an even mix of men and women, mostly Betas, and it seems to be a popular date night activity. I’ve watched a contortionist, the motorcycle crew do the globe of death, and this weird, kind of interpretive dance thing where an Alpha went into the crowd wearing a terrifying mask and rubbed all up on the audience.
I didn’t understand that one, but hey. It’s not my circus. The crowd was digging it, even if I had to shut my eyes tightly from the onslaught of memories. At least it wasn’t a clown.
Jude grins broadly and continues, looking over at me. “Tonight, we’re not just going for the unexpected. Tonight, we’ll astonish you. Please welcome to the ring, Quick Cut and Maestro!”
Quinton and Matteo strut into the ring as Jude moves to the side of the ring to stand beside me. I’m not entirely in the ring, but I am visible to the crowd if they look for me. It’s not as bad as I initially thought it would be.
Matteo is dressed like an old-school ringmaster, but with a dark twist. His black and gray striped blazer has chains and safety pins all over it, and he wears a top hat that looks like it’s been burned in spots. A pair of black slacks is tucked into knee-high boots covered in silver buckles.
Quinton wears a simple black shirt, his shaggy hair slicked back. His pants are baggy and red, and his feet are bare.
“Good evening,” Matteo says softly, calmly. The crowd quiets immediately, and there must be a mic hidden on his shirt for them to be able to pick up his soft voice. “If you’ve seen our show before, you know that Quick Cut here is a bit of a masochist.” The audience chuckles, and so does Jude.
He’s come alive here, under the big top. It’s like the moment the lights came on, all of his stress melted away. It’s a good look for the big guy.
“But I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Matteo continues in his Maestro persona. “Quick Cut is looking to impress someone tonight. Which means tonight he will push himself farther. He will work harder. He willsuffer.” The audience screams and cheers, but my stomach ties in knots.
I don’t want the Alpha to suffer. I squirm uncomfortably on my stool. Jude holds his hand up so I can see it,and then slowly moves it to my lower back. I let him touch me, and he rubs a small circle on top of my exposed skin.
“He’ll be fine,” he whispers in my ear. “Promise. They’re professionals.”
A stagehand pushes a large wheel out of the wings, and Quinton climbs onto it. Matteo makes a show of locking metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles, pulling on them to show the crowd he’s trapped.
“Any last words, Quick Cut?” Matteo asks him, annunciating each syllable deliberately as he takes a leather roll from the stage hand and opens it up on a small table.
“Yeah.” The Alpha’s voice is breathy and seductive as he stares down at his partner. “Do your worst.”
Matteo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a remote, pressing a button on it. Immediately, the wheel begins to spin, keeping Quinton trapped and twisting him around in a way that makes me feel queasy.
A heavy song that I’ve heard a thousand times picks up, and Matteo begins throwing knives to the beat. But then the wheel speeds up, and strobe lights come on, making it harder to see. I catch glimpses of Quinton’s red pants every few seconds.
And still, Matteo tosses blades at his partner.
And then the wheel kicks up another level, and the lights cut out entirely.
It’s pitch black, and the thump of the music is reduced, the volume so low I can hear the whirring of the wheel, and thethunkof Matteo’s blades.
And then I hear a shout.
A masculine bellow.
The music screeches to a halt, and the sound of the wheel stops. I’m holding my chest, off my stool, and breathing hard, my body aching with fear for Quinton.
Matteo missed. He missed, and Quinton is hurt.
“I need to go, I need to get my bag.” My voice is strained and desperate, and I feel Jude’s presence shift closer to me.
His lips ghost across my ear. “Just watch, Alex.”
The lights jolt on, momentarily blinding me.
