Page 113 of Kiss an Angel

“I asked you a question. Do you think he’d hurt me?”

“Not on purpose. He’s bonded to you, that’s for sure, but the circus is full of stories about supposedly docile animals turning on their handlers. And Sinjun’s hardly docile.”

“He is with me, and he hates the cage. He really does. I told you earlier that I never let him out if we’re close to a residential area. And you’ll notice that no one was around this morning. If anyone had been stirring, I wouldn’t have opened the door.”

“You’re not opening it again, so none of this matters.” He finished his coffee and set the mug down on the floor of the cab. “What happened to the woman I married? The one who didn’t believe civilized people got out of bed before eleven?”

“She married a circus bum.”

She heard his deep chuckle, and returned her attention to the road. She knew the matter of letting Sinjun out of his cage was resolved as far as he was concerned, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t made any promises.

Heather closed the door of the Airstream and stepped out into the night. She wore a yellow cotton Garfield nightshirt, and her feet were bare as they sank into the damp grass. The big top had been taken down, but she was too sick inside to pay attention to the familiar sights of the circus disbanding. Instead, her attention was riveted on her father, who sat outside their Airstream in a blue-and-white webbed lawn chair smoking the one cigar he allowed himself each week.

For once there weren’t any women hanging around him. No showgirls, and none of the townies who were always after him. The idea of her dad having sex totally grossed her out, even though she knew he probably did. But at least he made sure she didn’t find out about it, which was more than she could say for her brothers. Her dad was always getting on them for talking nasty around her.

He still hadn’t seen her, and as he took another drag on his cigar, the red tip glowed. Heather hadn’t eaten any dinner, but she still felt like she was going to throw up, just from thinking about what she had to do tonight. If only she could stuff her fingers in her ears and drown out the voice of her conscience, but it kept growing louder each day. It had gotten so she couldn’t sleep at night and food didn’t want to stay in her stomach. Keeping silent had turned into a worse punishment than telling the truth.

“Dad—uh—can I talk to you?” She had a big frog in her throat, and the words came out sort of croaky.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Again? What’s wrong with you lately?”

“It’s—” She twisted her hands. He was going to freak when she told him, but she couldn’t keep going on like this, knowing how she’d screwed Daisy over but not doing anything to make it right.

If Daisy had turned out to be a bitch, it might have been different, but she was the nicest person Heather had ever met. Sometimes she wished Daisy had narked on her right at the beginning. Then it would all be over by now.

“What’s wrong, Heather? You still worried about missing your cue tonight?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe you should worry about it. I don’t know why you can’t concentrate better. When Matt and Rob were your age—”

“I’m not Matt and Rob!” Her frayed nerves snapped. “It’s always Matt and Rob, Matt and Rob! They do every thing perfect, and I’m a big screwup!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You think it. You’re always comparing us. If I’d been able to come live with you right after Mom died instead of having to stay with Terry, I’d be a lot better by now.”

He didn’t get mad. Instead, he rubbed his arm, and she knew his tendonitis was bothering him. “Heather, I did what I thought was right for you. This is a hard life. I want something better for you.”

“I like it here. I like the circus.”

“You don’t understand.”

She sat down in the chair next to him because it was getting too hard to stand up. This had been the worst and the best summer of her life. The best part was being around Daisy and Sheba. Even though they didn’t get along with each other, they both cared about her. Although she’d never let Daisy know it, she liked listening to her lectures about swearing and smoking and sex and stuff. Plus, Daisy was funny, and she was a natural petter, always rubbing Heather’s arm or back or something.

Sheba fussed ov

er her in a different way. She stuck up for her when her brothers got obnoxious and made sure she ate good stuff instead of junk. She helped her with her acrobatics and didn’t ever yell, not even when Heather screwed up. Sheba was kind of a petter, too, always brushing Heather’s hair or adjusting her posture or just patting her after she was done performing.

Meeting Kevin last week had also been really good. He’d promised to write, and Heather was going to write him back. He hadn’t kissed her that night, but she thought he’d wanted to.

If only everything else this summer hadn’t been so terrible. She’d embarrassed herself so bad with Alex that her skin felt crawly whenever she thought about it. Her dad was always mad at her. And worst of all was what she’d done to Daisy, the awful thing she couldn’t live with one minute longer.

“Dad, I have something to tell you.” She clutched her hands. “Something bad.”

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