Page 81 of Two For the Show
She feels safe.
It’s all I could possibly want for her.
Chapter 32
I lean closerto the mirror in my bathroom as I line my lips with the dark red pencil. Jude watches my reflection from the bed.
“So, he’s here, then?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about him. All you need to concern yourself with is the show tonight.”
A few weeks ago, Jude contacted Warner Bradley, the Designation Director of California, where the circus is incorporated. The Director, a progressive Omega who has been described as incredibly fair, was ready to send a crew to collect me as soon as Jude mentioned my name. But after several long video calls where I insisted in many different ways that I was okay, going as far as showing him the bond marks on the guys, he accepted that I was here of my own volition.
We know it’s going to be an uphill battle to get my pack status with Rich and the guys revoked, especially with Tripp’s dad as governor. Warner doesn’t have any pull in Florida at all, but we think if we can get him to recognize us as a formalized, scent matched pack in the state ofCalifornia, we can utilize that and the abuse to break me free of pack Smith. Finally.
Maybe it won’t work.
Maybe I should just come forward with the abuse and report them to the cops. But I worry that Tripp’s dad could squash that quietly, and we wouldn’t have anyone in our corner, helping fight for justice.
If we can get Warner Bradley on our side, and by extension, the state of California, we should be able to take down Rich, Greg, and Tripp, and the governor won’t be able to save them.
“And you think this is the way to show Bradley that we’re a good pack together?” I ask skeptically.
Jude shrugs and grunts a little. “I mean, this is a way for us to document it and get our story out there. It’s going to be recorded and make its way online. You will get to control the narrative. With the whole country convinced you’re a kidnapped, endangered Omega, showing them that you’re safe, healthy, and happy here, combined with Bradley’s support, should tip the scales in our favor.”
“He doesn’t need to see me in the show to prove that we’re scent matches, though.” I pull on the stockings Dario picked out for me. Neon yellow fishnets to match the ugly ass ringmaster hat. “Why can’t we register online or whatever?”
“Because California has access to Florida’s records, and they won’t let you register in two separate packs. Plus, the scent match verification has to take place in person here. Giving the guy a pair of tickets and asking him to come see us in action, to see that you’ve chosen this life, seems like killing two birds with one stone.”
I slip on the tiny black sequined shorts that are only possible to wear because, even though it’s December, it’sstill sixty degrees in southern California, and we’ll be in the tent, anyway. My stomach twists with anxiety.
“We have to make a performance of it, huh?”
He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist. “They’ve been performing for the media for almost six months. It’s your turn. After tonight, no one will think you’re a kidnapped Omega. They’re going to see that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
I pacein front of the tent, wringing my hands. I can hear the buzz of the crowd as they settle into their seats, and I can hardly focus, knowing Warner Bradley is there, ready to meet us after the show and formalize us as a pack. Once he does that, and footage of tonight’s event gets out on the internet, the real fight begins.
It’s going to be an uphill battle to take down Greg, Tripp, and Rich, and to get the state of Florida to dissolve our pack. Changing the narrative that they have pushed in the media for six months, that I’m sick and in danger, will be tough.
Could someone suffering from Foresaken Omega Syndrome perform in a circus?
Would someone who was kidnapped put her trust in the men who did it?
Arms wrap around me from behind, and the chocolate-dipped apple scent of Dario relaxes my shoulders. “You look hot, Omega,” he purrs in my ear before playfully biting my neck. “How about we blow this off and you wrap those pretty thighs around my ears again?”
I whine, feeling the rush of slick at Dario’s dirty words.We still haven’t fucked, and it’s killing me. Being off the suppressants around these boys is hazardous to my health because I want to do nothing more than fall into bed with all of them, all the time.
“Don’t even try it, dude,” Dexter says, turning the corner. “It’s her big day. Her debut.”
Things were a little awkward between me and Dexter for a minute after he rejected me when he came out of his nightmare, but we recovered quickly. Since then, our number of casual touches has increased, and I feel closer to him than ever before.
I think it’s only a matter of time before we bond. I’m ready now, but I want him to be sure he is, too, so I’m going to wait for him to ask me.
He leans down and kisses me on the temple before wrenching his twin away from me. “It’s almost time for the show to start. We need to go get painted.”
Jude comes out of the dress tent, looking delicious in a pair of black cargo pants and a black and neon yellow plaid shirt. We’ve all got elements of the color in our outfits tonight, a visual symbol that we’re a pack.
Why Dario picked yellow, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s because it’s the easiest color to get glow-in-the-dark body paint in.
