Chapter Thirty-Five
NIGHT
I absentmindedly swirled my glass of bourbon around on the table as I stared at the door.
The trailer was dark, illuminated only by the streetlight glow coming in through the unobstructed window.
I hadn’t had time to get the blinds replaced since I ripped them down, nor had I bothered to hang a sheet over the tinted glass. It was the least of my worries.
I’d been sitting here for an hour. Shirtless, wearing nothing but pajama pants. Contemplating, letting my mind wander.
Tonight's show was flawless. Thankfully.
I didn't feel like dealing with a Hallow meltdown if anything went awry, especially after Zero's fuck up last night. It had obviously backfired—the beta was still here—but he’d risked a lot fucking with the set list. I had to give Arina credit where it was due, she held her own in the cage with the stuntmen last night.
And she performed flawlessly with Zero tonight.
Aside from some awkward uncertainty surrounding the newest troupe member, everything tonight went off without a hitch.
The opening number was flawless; the acts were performed to perfection.
The morale backstage had been unparalleled before everyone started breaking down equipment. Dallas had been a show for the books.
Then why do I still feel like shit?
I ran my tongue over my teeth, still staring at the door, unblinkingly. I knew the answer, whether I wanted to acknowledge it or not.
My miserable mood had nothing to do with the show at all.
The disappointment I felt, the nagging feeling in my gut that refused to go away, had everything to do with how empty my trailer felt. There was a gaping hole, a void, where Daze should have been. But he wasn't here to ramble on about pointless things or pester me for attention.
He was… gone.
I brought the glass to my lips and took a swing of the brown liquid. It might have been my second drink—or third. I’d lost count. I didn't care.
I’d keep drinking until I passed out on the couch.
Or maybe I’d fall asleep here at the dining table.
What does it matter?
Outside of our performances, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Daze. It was the longest we’d gone without interacting since he moved in a few years ago and it felt… wrong. So very wrong.
I’d tidied up the trailer—probably the cleanest it had ever been—but he hadn’t come back since he left Friday night. The chances of him coming back tonight were low, but I was still here. Waiting. Just in case.
I thought about seeking him out. More than likely, he was staying on the aerialist bus. At least, that was my guess. What I hoped. I didn’t want to think about him possibly shacking up with Arina and the clowns.
Zero would never allow it.
He’d at least tell me, right?
I wasn’t certain of anything anymore, least of all who to trust.
Revel had probably saved my life and given me his mark, which throbbed faintly whenever he was near or upset, but he’d been distant too. The bond probably bothered him more than it did me.
Who would want to share emotions with someone like me? Only someone as fucked up and broken as I was.
It made sense that he’d stayed away.
I took another sip of the bourbon and hardly felt the burn as it went down. With a huff, I replaced the glass on the table and tilted my head back, eyes closed. Even the liquor couldn’t keep my mind from wandering to dangerous places.
Like the aerialist bus.
It would have been easy to walk over and knock. Maybe thirty feet at most. They’d know why I was there, and Daze would come stumbling out, confused.
Would he still be angry? Would he be happy to see me?
I had no idea, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. If I found out he didn’t give a shit and was happier being away from me…
I didn’t finish the thought.
It’s better this way. I’d repeat it over and over until I believed it. It was better if he kept his distance, if he stayed away, in case I started to slip again.
Sooner or later, I would have to face the harsh reality that was my existence: without a permanent mate bond, I would eventually go rogue. There would be no saving me then.
Clinging to the life I knew, trying to fight off the feral haze that always threatened to take over, was a dangerous game. One that I would lose without a mate.
I would have to die to protect those around me. There was no way around it.
I’d always known things could end with me six feet under, but after this most recent episode, it was more obvious than ever. I was a danger to myself and everyone in the circus.
Soon, I would have to face my fate.
Very soon?—
A sound at the door made my eyes pop open, and I sat up straight. Before I could move from my seat, it swung open, and a figure stepped inside.
I froze, alarmed by the unwelcome intruder, but as my eyes focused, my jaw fell slack. It was Daze.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. Maybe I drank more than I thought, and it was fucking with my mind. But after blinking several times, it became apparent that he wasn’t a figment of my imagination.
He was here.
Finally…
Shirtless as usual, he wore a pair of dark sweatpants I didn't recognize. They probably belonged to one of the aerialists. His hair was wet, like he'd just taken a shower, and a waft of minty bodywash followed him into the trailer. He hesitated after the door snapped closed behind him.
His brown eyes landed on me, making my insides wiggle, but I kept my mouth fixed in a thin line. Emotionless. Stoic, the way I always tried to be.
“Night,” he gasped, like he hadn’t expected to see me. “The lights were off… I assumed…”
I waved a hand flippantly to tell him it was fine.
Of course, it was fine. He technically lived here when we were on the road. He had for the last few years.
I hadn’t kicked him out. Hadn’t told him to stay away. He'd done that on his own.
If that was what he wanted, he was welcome to go.
But he was also welcome to stay.
Right?
The alcohol was making my thoughts fuzzy.
“I was just coming to get some more clothes,” he said, scratching the back of his head. My eyes caught on his muscles as they flexed, and Daze shifted his gaze away to observe the trailer.
“It looks good in here,” he said before glancing back in my direction. “Did you clean?”
I nodded.
He took a few steps into the space, and his eyes landed on the torn back of the couch. “How’d that happen?”
I clenched my jaw. I didn’t know how to explain everything to him. Hell, I didn’t even know how to wrap my mind around it exactly.
Reluctantly, I signed, “Accident.”
“Right.” His eyes shifted again, this time to the opposite wall. “And the blinds?”
“Accident. ”
He didn’t look like he believed me. “Night, did you accidentally destroy the trailer and clean it to cover it up?”
As much as I hated to admit it, Daze knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. There was no point in lying to him.
What was the worst that could happen if I was honest?
“Yes.”
He dragged a hand over his face and took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” he asked, meeting my eyes intently.
I took another sip of bourbon to buy me a few seconds. Am I okay? Probably not, but it didn't matter. He couldn't help me in any real capacity. He couldn't fix my problem.
“I'm fine.”
Still, he didn't look like he believed me. He stepped over to the wall and flipped on the light switch. The bulbs overhead flickered to life, and I winced at the assault. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and when they finally focused, Daze was staring at me.
“You know I worry about you,” he said, his jaw flexing. “I just want to make sure that… Night, what the fuck is that?” His eyes had fallen to my shoulder.
I froze, and it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the trailer at once.
Reflexively, I raised my hand to brush over the semi-healed mate bond.
Revel’s bond. It thrummed with energy, and I could feel Revel’s aura coming through.
It was faint, barely more than a whisper, but it was there.
Dark, calm. Maybe he was already in bed.
Hopefully he was sleeping. If he could sense the fear and panic lighting up my system right now, he might come running.
Daze took another step closer, squinting like he was trying to see something other than what was really there.
“Is that a fucking mate bond ?” His eyes shot to mine, wide and full of confusion.
I silently scolded myself. Why hadn’t I thought to wear a fucking shirt?
It wasn’t like I was keeping a secret from Daze, and it wasn’t like Revel and I were actually mated. But I knew explaining it wouldn’t be easy.
“Sit ,” I signed and gestured at the chair across from me .
Daze didn’t move, standing frozen just a few feet away. The hurt in his eyes was undeniable.
My heart lurched when his bottom lip wobbled.
Fuck.
This wasn’t going well.
“It’s not what you think. Please.” I gestured to the seat again.
His throat bobbed with a hard swallow, and he dragged out the chair across from me.
Daze didn’t move. He didn’t blink or say anything at all; he just stared at me like I’d grown a second head. His expression shifted from disbelief to hurt as the seconds dragged by, and he took a slow step backward without looking away.
“I… I think it’s best if I just go.”