Page 127 of Three Ring Heat: Part One
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.
