Page 15 of House of Clowns

He didn't even look at him. "I said we needed moreclowns," he replied, each letter cold, deliberate. "C-L-O-W-N-S."

I swallowed, fighting off the dry knot in my throat. "Well, I found one. A female… clown."

Finally, he lifted his head, eyes sharpening as his gaze latched onto mine. "You're joking."

My hands twisted behind my back as I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "She doesn't have to necessarily be a clown. She dances, does magic… she's versatile."

Rocco raised an eyebrow. "Youlikeher, don't you?"

I shook my head. My voice was low, "It’s not that. She… she needs our help."

Sighing, he struggled to his feet, liquor tilting his steps. "Do we even know who this girl is?"

I looked down, my voice barely above a whisper. "She's Carlo's sister. The boy you asked I bring to the town."

In a split second, he fell upon me, his hand closing in on my throat as he hissed, "You brought her here? What the hell were you thinking?"

I pushed him back, bristling. "I wasn't thinking, alright?"

Rocco turned me loose, staggering back with a wince. "She can't stay here."

"I already told her she could," I said, my voice steely. "And I told her we'd bring her brother too."

The next thing I knew, his voice thundered, "YOU IDIOT!" He slapped a hand over his face, groaning. "Lock that damn door."

I turned, crossed to the door, and twisted the lock, feeling his gaze boring into my back. When I faced him again, I dropped the words I knew would press him: "I'm not an idiot. And if you don't tell me what's going on, I'll make sure everyone knows how clowns around here are justdisappearing."

Rocco's eyes darkened as he reached for the bottle and took a long drink before setting it down finally with a dull thud. "Fine.Those clowns?" His voice was low, this strange calm beneath the words. "They're people nobody cares about, nobody's looking for. I made a deal. They get traded, out of sight, so they don't have to take innocents."

The admission landed between us. "You struck a deal with the Family?" I spat, the bitter bile rising in my throat. "What the hell, Rocco? I was bluffing."

"I know," he said, settling back into his chair—older, it seemed to me, than he had any right to look. "But I needed someone to know."

I moved closer, leaning my hands on the edge of his desk. "So what does that mean for us?"

He looked at me with sunken eyes. "It means that they could also come for us."

I collapsed onto the chair beside Rocco's desk, finally feeling the weight of it all settle onto me. Instantly, my mind wandered to her—the girl I had promised safety, and swore to protect. I had made that promise out of nowhere, but now, as I sat here, I wondered if I was even capable of protecting myself. My life itself had always been a gamble, something that I had so gladly taken under my wing and cared nothing for. But for her? For her, I would kill if it ever came to that. Disturbingly, how fast she'd seemed to slip into my heart—a stranger who'd managed to poison the veins with an appealing pull I couldn't shake off. She was under my skin, seeping into thought, infecting every corner of my brain until I barely felt like myself.

I was snapped out of that long-ago scene by the sound of Rocco's voice. "They used to gather here, in the basement, and if they come asking for it again, no one will be safe."

"I heard rumors, but is it that bad?" I asked, dread creeping up my spine.

He merely shook his head. "Tell the girl she can stay with the Aerialists. They're down a performer, so she'll need to learn how to dance and perform if she wants to stay here."

"And her brother?" I pressed on, knowing I couldn't leave without some kind of assurance for him too.

Rocco was chuckling, a dark throaty sound that raised the fine hairs along my neck. "He's small enough to work with the cannonballs," he said with a cruel grin, tipping back another sip of rum.

I couldn't help the glare that shot his way. "Your heart is stone cold, you know that?"

"Fine, fine," he laughed louder, the bitterness cutting in his voice. "He can be a clown. It's fitting, isn't it?"

I stood, rolling my eyes as I headed for the door.

"Goodbye, Rocco," I muttered, not waiting for a response as I slipped out, closing the door firmly behind me.

As I walked down the hallway, my mind was able to race. Rocco had told me things, but it was just as obvious he was withholding. He spoke in half-lies, circling the meat of what mattered. Whispers of secrets lay soft in the air around him, razor-sharp and deadly enough to slice through the lives of everyone here. And now—Lord knew somehow—I was connected with them too.

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