Page 11 of The Circus

Whether she likes it or not.

SEVEN

EDEN

Weekendsat the circus are hell. Friday and Saturday nights are packed, and there’s always some sort of disaster waiting to happen. We practice all week just to perform with no breaks, and none of us will ever see the money these rich, nasty assholes throw our way. I suppose I need to be somewhat thankful; I’ve never had to give a private dance. Those happen on weeknights as well as weekends, and the girls drone on and on about their despicable clientele as they douse their faces in powder and prepare to paint on fake smiles.

“Eden, where the fuck is my—oh, nevermind,” Chastity grunts, triumphantly holding up her tube of signature ruby red lipstick. I don’t bother with that shade, too pale for most of those colors to look decent on me anyways. I never had a mother who could teach me how to do makeup.

With my ankle still smarting, Daniel had threatened to double my debt if I didn’t get my ass to work tonight. It’s no secret I’m the best dancer, a tantalizing prize that the patrons aren’t ever allowed to touch. It’s not because Dick and Daniel are kind by any means, either. It’s all a business scheme. Showthem the best, and give them something mediocre so they keep coming back begging for a chance at more.

If my father wasn’t on his deathbed, and if Dick hadn’t discovered my other deplorable secret, I wouldn’t be here. I can blame and hate myself for what I did, but I cannot ever bring myself to hate my father for succumbing to his disease. He saved me, saved us, and now it’s my turn to save him by giving him peace in his last days on this earth.

Reminding myself of that makes being here a little more bearable.

“Don’t you have prom soon, girly?” Jess asks, swiping blush on her cheeks as she puckers her lips in the mirror. I run a brush through my long hair until it’s pin straight, eyeing myself in the mirror surrounded by bare lightbulbs. Chastity snorts.

“Eden wouldn’t get invited.”

My teeth gnash together.

“Wow, rude,” Jess retorts.

“What?” Chastity says, pulling her lipstick away from her mouth and dabbing at the corners until the color sits just right. She’s always been a bitch to me, ever since my first performance when Daniel booted her from the main act and replaced her with me. All those years spent ruining my toes because I had girlish dreams of dancing my way to New York weren’t technically wasted, then. But the worst of it is knowing I’ve always been nothing more than a puppet on a string, controlled by vile creatures. Just when I thought life was turning around, I landed myself here.

As hopeful as I’m still able to be, something deep within me knows it’s going to get worse before it gets better. Just how much worse, I don’t really care to ponder at the present.

Jess pats my shoulder, ever the sweet, older sister type.

“Break a leg tonight, Eden. Heard Vic was letting the new guy have a go at you with the knives.”

My stomach nearly falls out of my ass, and the brush I’m holding clatters to the floor. Whirling around in shock, my eyes catch Jess’s. All the other girls stare, some with pity in their gazes, others with fear. I’ve proven I’m the only one capable of performing that stunt with Vic, because I’m not terrified of pain, or death. I trust Vic with my life.

It’s Teddy I can’t trust.

Jess bites her bottom lip, and the beaded bodysuit I’m wearing is suddenly a thousand degrees. “Sorry, I thought you knew.”

“He…he doesn’t…” I sputter pathetically. Chastity rolls her eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, Eden, wouldn’t you rather have some hot guy try to kill you over that old fart?”

It’s easy to ignore her, my gaze stuck on Jess.

“He’s pretty good, Edie. I’ve watched him. All week he’s never missed, not once.”

Her words do nothing to console me. Teddy being here, working here, is a thorn in my side I can’t ignore. I think it’s safe to assume he’s somehow being forced into this, but the way he breezes about the place so nonchalantly is unsettling.

As though he is one with the darkness of this world.

Everyone simmers down into frightened silence the moment Daniel’s frame fills the open doorway, but they shouldn’t fear; his eyes are on me alone. And draped over his arm is a new outfit, black and sparkly and as skimpy as a string. A sick smile curls his lips.

“Come, Eden. We need to have a little chat.”

Do this,or you’re fired.

Daniel’s harsh words rattle around in my skull like a pinball in a machine. It’s the only discernible thought I have right now, standing here at the end of the hall, wearing a robe, heels, a thong…and nothing else.

We have very high paying clientele tonight.

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