Chapter 13
The metal door slams loudly behind Alex, and I stare at it for longer than appropriate.
What the fuck was that? What was she doing in that tent?
I look down at my hands, remembering the way she flinched away from them. What kind of pain has she encountered at the end of hands like mine to make her react so viscerally to them?
I’ve seen that reaction before, but I never thought I would be the one to cause it.
I wish she would talk to me. Would tell me why she was in that tent, why she seemed so shell-shocked.
I know better than to assume that she decided to take a three a.m. cold bath fully clothed.
Something happened, and she doesn’t want to talk about it.
Except, we’re strangers. And I’ve not exactly been the most welcoming person. I don’t want to force her to talk, but if something is happening in my circus, with my team, I need to know .
Should I push the issue? Bang on her door and demand that she tell me more about what went down there? I can’t help her if I don’t know what I am protecting her from.
I may not want an Omega here, but I still have to keep her safe, and it’s going to be impossible if I don’t know what the threat is.
Or who the threat is.
Anxiety causes bile to churn in my gut, memories of my adolescence threatening to make themselves known. Times when I could do nothing but look on helplessly.
I’m not a fucking moron. The story she fed to me about her parents was probably true… for someone. But not for Alex. That’s not why she’s here. And maybe none of the others have realized it, but if I needed any further confirmation, tonight was it.
I’ve seen that haunted look before.
But I was young then, and I didn’t have the power to intervene, as much as I wanted to. Our parents did what they could, but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.
Eventually, the ghosts of my past lay themselves to rest, and I give up my vigil outside of her trailer. I don’t know if I was protecting her from someone, or just trying to appease my Alpha instincts that growl and snarl that she needs help, but either way, there’s nothing else I can do here.
I turn away, only to hear a strangled cry from the trailer.
I can’t go in.
I can’t.
I can’t violate her safety by barging in unwelcome, even though the master key to all the trailers is burning a hole in my pocket .
But I have never felt anything like the visceral desire to throw that door open and comfort her—the all-encompassing feeling of need to get her in my arms.
I don’t think she realizes just how thin the walls of these trailers are. If she did, I doubt she’d let her guard down at all.
There is no way she’d be okay with anyone here knowing she was crying.
Another cry, and then a thump, like she fell out of bed, has my resolve cracking. What if she’s injured? She may need medical attention. She could have hit her head.
But then a light comes on inside, dispelling that theory, and I high-tail it out of there, not wanting to be caught creeping on the pretty Omega doctor.
The pretty Omega doctor who has demons that I have met before haunting her.
Maybe she is supposed to be here. She should fit right in.
We’re all a little fucked up here.
“Are you sure, boss?” Matteo asks, finally looking up from his notebook. I can’t tell who he’s sketching, his fingertips dusted with charcoal, but I have an idea if that slim jawline is any indication. “He’s just been in a lot of pain lately, and I don’t want to push him.”
“If you guys aren’t comfortable doing it, then no, but I think the crowd is ready for it. You’ve been practicing, right?”
He sighs and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, but that’s different than an audience and you know it. I can’t exactly ease him into subspace with an audience watching.”
“Why not?” The look he gives me makes me want to shrink inside myself, despite being nearly twice as big as the Beta.
Quinton and Matteo have an incredibly dangerous act as it is. Still, what I’m asking him to do, the combination of body suspension and sword swallowing, can end up disastrous if it’s not done correctly.
Hooks and rings are inserted through Quinton’s skin, and then his body is lifted by a pulley system, suspended from the beams of the tent by just his flesh. And then Matteo is responsible for feeding him the sword, something that is usually done by his own hand.
It gives me the heebie jeebies, but I’d never say that out loud. It does make for an incredible act, though.
“Because subspace takes time, time we won’t have if he’s got to do the rest of the act first. If he’s not in subspace, he’s not relaxed enough unless he’s high out of his mind, and he cannot swallow swords and keep his body still enough when suspended while high.”
The he in question, Quinton, is high as fuck right now, sitting there blinking at the roof of the tent like we’re not talking about him. His torn jeans and worn t-shirt reek with a skunky scent.
“Why is he so high right now?” I ask Matteo, dropping my voice a few levels.
“He’s feeling worse lately. Headaches, body aches.
It’s like he has the flu, but on steroids.
I don’t know how long this can continue to go on.
” Matteo rubs his eyes, like he didn’t get any sleep.
He clearly loves the Alpha in a way anyone would be lucky to experience.
They’ve been together for years, since before they came to the circus, and not only are they lovers, but there is a friendship there that is unshakable.
They look out for each other and take care of one another.
They’re family.
“It’s gotten worse since we took Alex nest shopping and he hung out with her instead of going to the cookout.”
I wrinkle my nose at the admission. I knew about the cookout thing, but the nest part is new. It’s not at all what I expected him to say. “Why did you take her nest shopping?”
“She needed to go. Didn’t have shit, if the amount of stuff she bought is any indication.
” He flips a page in his notebook and continues to sketch.
I don’t hold it against him. I know he’s still paying attention to our conversation.
Sometimes, he has to multitask to pay attention, as backwards as that sounds.
“And you just had to shop with her?” I know that Alphas have urges to help Omegas with their nests, and Omegas tend to crave an Alpha’s guidance, but this is crossing more than a few lines. We need to keep a professional distance from her.
It’s not like she’s going to be here long term. As soon as her contract is up, I have to send her packing.
Even though my gut churns when I think about that day.
Since the cookout, I’ve taken the time to notice how she interacts with the troupe, and most of them seem to like her. She’s got a few of them laughing, and I’ve caught her doing yoga with Rex in the mornings a few times.
Matteo shrugs. “She was accosted in the mall, so we weren’t going to leave her alone.
And then she couldn’t make decisions until Q started making suggestions.
She was just touching everything and putting it back, looking increasingly unsettled.
It was weird. I’ve never seen Omega instincts in person like that.
I kind of thought it was an exaggeration that Omegas need Alphas to stabilize them, but I’m starting to get it now.
As soon as he started offering suggestions, she went with them. ”
“Why would that make him sicker?”
“Because she picked my pillow,” Quinton says in that breathy slur he always has when he’s stoned. He doesn’t look at us, still staring with dry, bloodshot eyes at the top of the tent. “And my blanket. She let me guide her to all the choices. We built a nest together. Means she’s mine.”
“That’s not what that means,” Matteo snaps. “You can’t get your hopes up. You don’t know her. Maybe your instincts were just reacting to hers.”
Quinton snorts and waves his Beta off. “Okay, believe that if you want. But she picked my pillow. She picked my blanket. She took all of my suggestions and happily built the nest I guided her towards.” He folds his arms behind his head casually.
“And when we hung out, we had a moment that just…” He trails off, looking up at the ceiling dreamily.
“But even forgetting all of that, I’m sicker after exposure to a suppressed Omega.
I’ve suspected it for a while, but this confirms what I have. ”
He doesn’t have to say it out loud. We all know the symptoms.
Alpha Rot. There aren’t many inherited diseases that affect Alphas, and that’s the big one.
“And if it was Alpha Rot, and she was yours like you said, she’d make you better, not worse.” I can tell by Matteo’s tone that they’ve had this argument a few times recently.
And I hate to add to it, but…
“It doesn’t work like that. She’s got no Omega pheromones right now.
So you don’t know if she would make it better or not.
In fact, if she is his scent match, not having her pheromones could be what is making him worse.
Like his body knows they’re supposed to be there and revolting when it doesn’t find them or something. ”
I’m not a doctor, but I’ve read a few medical articles to be on the safe side, since we have so many Alphas here, and all of them are unbonded.
Matteo narrows his eyes at me for agreeing with the sick Alpha, but Quinton’s face stretches into a wide smile. “See? All we need to do is get her off her suppressants, and we’ll know for sure, and boom. I’m cured.”
And if she goes off her suppressants, we run the risk of starting a goddamn rutting bloodbath with all of these Alphas around an Omega. We don’t know what her pheromones are like, how attractive they are.
It’s a massive risk.
“You’re family, Quinton, but I can’t ask that of her. Not only would it cross so many professional lines, but you know how the others would react. It’d be dangerous for her.” I shake my head, trying to clear the thought of Dr. Alex Shields’s fragrance surrounding me.
“S’cool,” he says, eyes drifting closed. “We’ll get our answer if I keep getting worse when I spend time with her.”
“You’re not going to be spending any more time with her,” Matteo snaps. “I was fine with it at first, but now that it could be hurting you, I can’t risk it. I can’t lose you.”
“She’s the doctor, Teo,” he mumbles. “I need to be around her. She’ll know pretty quickly if this is rot.”
“That is what she’s here for,” I remind Matteo. “If she rules it out, at least that’s one step closer to the diagnosis.”
For two years now, Quinton has been dealing with an invisible, unknown illness. It started small, with just some aches and pains here and there. And now it’s constant, and if Matteo is right, getting worse .
Sometimes, he’s completely clear, but at other times, he’s hardly here.
I would never get rid of him, but it does worry me when it’s combined with some of his tricks.
He uses cannabis to stave off most of the symptoms, but he chooses to do his act sober and in pain for safety reasons.
He loves Matteo and would never knowingly put them in danger to perform while intoxicated. But how long can this go on?
“I don’t know…” Matteo says, chewing his lip. “What’s going to happen to you if that’s what it is?”
Quinton’s head lolls back as he shifts in his chair. “Then I’m gonna ask her to go off her suppressants and hopefully that’ll make me better.”
“You can’t ask that of her!” his Beta partner hisses back. “That’s so inappropriate.”
“Maybe she’ll have tricks to make it easier, then,” he responds slowly, eyes half-lidded. He must’ve been in a bad way today, because I can’t remember the last time I saw him this fucked up. “She’s a doctor.”
Matteo runs his hands down his face, clearly about to argue back, when I step in.
“Quinton is right. We have a doctor, and we need to utilize her services. Just because the others couldn’t figure it out doesn’t mean she won’t. Go see her. Talk to her. I hate to see you hurting, Quinton, and I know Matteo does too.”
And if she has someone knock on her trailer door, maybe she’ll come out.
Maybe I can check and see if she’s doing okay after whatever the fuck that was last night.