Chapter Forty-Three
ARINA
I slipped into the most peaceful, dreamless sleep while curled up against Daze’s chest, and he woke me a couple of hours later. We were still alone in the convention center, and despite the safety net ropes eating into my skin, I didn’t want to move.
“Cielito, why don’t we get you back to the bus, so you can sleep?” he asked, brushing over my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
I grumbled.
“I know, I don’t want to move either.” He kissed the top of my head, and I could have melted right then and there. “But you didn’t want to get in trouble, remember?”
Shit.
He was right.
We could stay here, but when troupe members showed up in the morning, it would be obvious that we broke in. Not to mention, it would be clear we spent the night together, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for the questions or speculation that would follow.
Going back to the clown bus was, unfortunately, the best option.
If I was lucky, we could do this again very soon.
Maybe tonight?
“Fine,” I groaned and attempted to roll away from Daze’s muscular form. He had to help me get my footing and show me how to climb down from the net. I was disappointed but also glad to be on solid ground again.
As he led us back through the maze of hallways and out the back door, he kept one of his arms draped over my shoulders. Despite how much I loved the feeling, I had to keep reminding myself that this meant nothing.
We were still just friends, despite the warm flutter in my chest that wouldn’t go away.
Just friends, despite the ache between my thighs from him tenderly fucking me.
Just friends …
When we reached the clown bus, he stopped and pulled me into his chest. My arms instinctively went around his waist, and he rested his chin on my head. We stood there, slowly swaying back and forth as the sky lightened with a hint of the impending sunrise.
I didn’t want to move, didn’t want the night to end, despite the exhaustion dragging me down.
Daze pulled away first, just enough to look at my face.
“What are you doing to me, cielito?” he whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.
My pulse stuttered, but before I could ask what he meant, he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I sighed as his tongue swiped into my mouth, and my thoughts went fuzzy.
Fuck, how I wanted to sneak him onto the clown bus, so I could curl up against him and go back to sleep.
When he pulled away, my lips ached for more.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
I fought the urge to run back into his arms, instead forcing a smile.
“Goodnight… well… morning.” I cringed. “See you later.”
Before I could say anything else embarrassing, I turned and hurried onto the bus, swiftly closing the door behind me. The lights were still dimmed, and it seemed everyone was still asleep as I crept down the aisle.
Thank God.
I didn’t feel like explaining to Bobbitt, or anyone else, why I was sneaking back onto the bus this early in the morning. I wanted Daze and my arena rendezvous to stay our little secret.
The closer I got to my bunk, the more Zero’s caramel-covered popcorn scent infiltrated the air and, despite my best efforts, I found myself taking deep, desperate inhales of it.
Being away for several hours had been wonderful; I was able to think clearly without his influence.
But now, it was like my body was making up for the time I was gone.
It wanted more of him than I was able to stuff into my lungs.
Side-eyeing the clown’s curtained bed, I crept to my cabinet. I needed to change shorts—these were still damp with slick—and take my suppressants. In my disappointment last night, I’d forgotten.
A shower won’t hurt either.
Tugging open the door, I reached into the darkened space to feel for my backpack and came up short.
“Huh.”
I opened the door wider and peered inside, certain I must have missed it in my exhaustion. Perhaps my depth perception was off.
However, as I stared into the darkened cubby, my stomach sank like a stone. The stacks of clothes were there, along with my toiletries, but my backpack was gone.
Desperately, I reached inside and waved my hand around, like it would suddenly materialize.
It didn’t, but I brushed a scrap of paper with my fingertips. The circus poster?
I pulled it out and held it up in the limited lighting. I definitely didn’t recognize it. There were words scribbled across it that I couldn’t make out, and I would have tossed it back into the cabinet and forgotten about it, except for the one word that was legible in the dark: secret.
My mind immediately went to the suppressants buried at the bottom of my backpack.
Had someone really gone through the bag? Did they know my secret?
I took a step to the right, still clutching the scrap of paper, and flung my privacy curtain open. My bunk was exactly the way I’d left it, the blanket tossed back to reveal the rumpled sheet beneath it. But there was no sign of my backpack.
My breaths coming quicker, I grabbed a change of clothes and hurried toward the bathroom, frantically locking myself inside and settling with my back against the door. My hands trembled as I held up the note and tried to decipher the untidy handwriting, my panic soaring with every word.
Santa Fe Plaza at midnight. Come alone, lest the world know your secret.
I slumped to the floor, light-headed, and stared at the paper in my hands. This had to be some kind of sick fucking joke.
No way was this happening.
I’d been so careful…
I’d done everything I could to protect my designation…
A sob shook my chest, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. All the emotions I’d been fighting to keep buried bubbled and brewed, threatening to spill over. My eyes burned, and I squeezed them shut.
This can’t be happening.
I shook my head defiantly, tears spilling down my cheeks.
This.
Can’t.
Be.
Happening.
But it was. The paper in my hand was proof.
Someone had taken my suppressants, and they were holding them for ransom. What they wanted, I didn’t know, but it couldn’t be good. Especially if they wanted to meet in the dead of night, away from the caravan.
My fate was, once again, out of my hands.
Sobbing quietly, I brought my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms. The best night of my life had suddenly turned into the worst, and I had no idea what I was going to do.
It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t fair.
And yet, somehow, it was my reality.
Worse, since I had no idea who took my things, everyone was a suspect. No one could be trusted.
Syxx, Sevyn, Zero, Bobbitt ? —
My heart cracked at the thought of the balloon animal artist. Surely, she wouldn’t have turned against me so easily. Or maybe all her talk about omegas was a front.
Syxx and Sevyn had both been so kind to me, but that didn’t mean anything. I didn’t actually know them, only by proximity. There was a chance one of them—or both—had gotten nosy when no one was around.
I didn’t think Zero gave enough of a fuck about me to look through my things, unless…
Did he find the shirt I stole from his hamper and try to get even?
My heart seized at the thought, and I scrambled to my feet. Shakily, I changed clothes and slipped back out of the bathroom. Every step closer to my bed had my pulse racing faster, my thoughts churning faster.
I all but dove onto my bunk and snapped the privacy curtain closed.
If the shirt was gone, that meant he found it.
He’d have a motive for going through my things.
But before I could get my hopes up, my fingers closed around Zero’s shirt, and I dragged it out. I stared at the wrinkled, black fabric. Obviously, he didn’t know I had it.
Shit.
That still left me without a suspect.
Panic mounting, I fell back onto my pillow and closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing even.
What did I do now?
I could tell someone, though I wasn’t sure who. Daze? Hallow? What could either of them do?
And what will they say?
I could follow the note’s instructions and be in Santa Fe Plaza at midnight. That way, I’d know for sure who took my suppressants, and I could try to get them back.
Or I can run…
My stomach soured at the thought. I had money graciously gifted to me by the ringleader; it was at least a few hundred dollars, enough to get a bus ticket and disappear before noon. Not ideal—I really liked being in the circus and the life I was making for myself—but I’d done it once.
I could do it again.
Thoughts whirling at a dizzying pace, I wiped at my tears with the backs of my hands, trying to come up with a plan. But I had nothing.
I was pinned in a corner like a feral animal, and my next move could be my last.