Page 8 of The Circus

“No animals of that sort.”

My stomach twists.

“Then, what?—”

A sharp knock interrupts my question.

“Come in,” Daniel calls, eyes still lingering on my face. It’s beginning to creep me out, and I’m usually the one doing the creeping out. Following his gaze, I peer over my shoulder, met once again with Vic’s somber eyes. He points behind him with his knobby thumb.

“Your prized performer needs to speak with you.”

Daniel releases a disgusted sigh. “Send her in.”

But when Vic steps away, the unmistakable violet eyes of Eden Clemm clash with mine.

FIVE

EDEN

What in theactualfuckis Teddy freakingPoedoing here?

As our stunned gazes lock, the throbbing of my ankle ceases and my mouth runs dry. He’d carried me today, through the woods and back to the field. No one had remained to witness my downfall other than Miss Peterson and his best friend Cash. I’d spent the remainder of the school day in the nurse’s office, icing my tender ankle. By the time I’d hobbled to my bus to make it downtown on time, I had missed it and stood around waiting for the next one, chewing my thumbnail to barely a nub as my brain replayed those moments where he held me on a loop. He’d smelled so good, like juniper and smoke and leather.

The first boy to ever touch me.

For four years, he’s never said a word to me. For four years, those strange, teal eyes have skirted beyond me in favor of his friend, Cash. And for four years, I’ve been relentlessly bullied in front of him, and he’s never made a peep.

I hate him just as deeply as I hate everyone else at that school, but after today, my body is betraying my mind.

So now I hate her, too.

He’s objectively beautiful. Dark hair, brooding, deep set eyes under expressive brows, hollow cheeks because of his high cheekbones and angular jaw. His lips are full and soft, and when he smiles, he has laugh lines. I still remember the day he came to school with self-inflicted snake bite piercings. A jolt of heat had flared through me when I’d seen them, for it made him beautifulandsexy. Which only made me hate him more.

So now that he stands before me sans uniform in a Misfits band tee and dark jeans, I absolutelyloathehim.

“What’s your problem now?” Daniel seethes. Vic tenses, fist clenching at his side. If not for him, Daniel would’ve raped me a thousand times over by now. For a year, I’ve been stuck here in literal hell, using my skills as a ballerina to twist my hips for disgusting, lecherous men. For a year, I’ve gone to school and come straight here nearly every night, paying down an ever-growing debt. It keeps me fed and housed and clothed, the money I never see. And it keeps my father comfortable as he waits to die.

My eyes flit disbelievingly between Teddy and Daniel, wondering at the connection—if Teddy is affiliated for sinister reasons or not. That little girl in me that has a crush on him really hopes that’s not the case. Swallowing down my fear, I say, “Umm…I hurt my…ankle. Sprained it today. I can’t…work…”

Work. A tactful way to say I’ve been hundreds of men’s wet dreams for a year, Vic following more than half of them to their cars and pressing his knife to their throats, promising to slit them if they ever touched me. Vic is here because, like everyone else, he has to be, but I know he’d rather die than see anything bad happen to me. He’s become something of a loving uncle since I’ve been here.

Daniel wipes at his jaw and rolls his eyes, ever the dramatic drunkard. Gesturing to the door with an angry pointing of hisfingers, he dismisses me. “I’ll find something for you to do later. Go get ready.”

Teddy’s gaze burns a hole in my face, but I turn without giving him my eyes, making my way slowly down the hall to the imposing set of stairs. Vic is hot on my trail, slow as I am.

“I don’t need a lecture on being more careful. I know,” I mutter, pressing a hand to the wall as I ease down the steps, pain lacing up my leg with every minute movement.

“No lecture,” he rasps, attempting to whisper. He clears his throat, his accent thickening in his need for quiet. I glance at him, paused on the steps, the question on my lips. His eyes are narrow as he scrutinizes me. “You know that boy. Or he knows you.”

My cheeks flame to life at his accusatory tone, but Vic will find out the truth one way or another.

“We…uh, go to school together.”

“Well fuck me, then.”

“What?” I hiss, taking another step downward. Vic follows, ignoring my slow pace.

“That’s the teacher’s step son.”

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