Page 12 of Slay Me

“So it would seem.”

“How? I thought they’d all left. Either fled or were killed. Serve no purpose and all that.”

“Clearly, this one does. And she’s absolutely adorable.”

“Damn. The Ringmaster is layered.”

I arch a brow. “And here I thought you hated him.”

She glares at me. “I do. But I can appreciate that there is more to him than the tricky bastard who forced me into a contract.”

“You know, I told you something about my past. You could share a bit of yours.”

“No chance.” She rolls back off my bed. “You two going out again?”

“Absolutely not.” I scoot up and lean back against the headboard. “Adorable fabric lady aside, that is not something I ever want to do again. I damn near passed out from anxiety the second we moved past the barrier.”

“But he stayed with you, kept you safe.”

“He did,” I tell her honestly. “And you want to know what the weirdest part was?” She stares back at me expectantly.

“Weirder than the Ringmaster being best buds with an elderly human woman?”

“Even weirder.” It feels almost wrong to betray a piece of the Ringmaster to someone else, but since he didn’t ask me to keep it a secret— “The tailor called him D.”

Fiona arches a white brow. “As in the letter?”

“Exactly like the letter.”

“Weird. Well, I guess we at least know what his name starts with now.”

“You don’t think his name is actually D?”

“Unless she’s referring to his massive dick, I’d say so.”

My cheeks heat. “I very much doubt she’s referring to his dick.”

“Who knows? Guy could be into the whole age gap thing.”

I choke on a laugh. “Somehow I don’t think that’s it.”

We fall into companionable silence, and I continue to stare straight ahead even though my mind is somewhere else entirely. The Ringmaster—D—has always felt so surreal. A monster that lurks in the building, popping up during performances or when he needs something.

But this morning, I was forced to see him in a different light. As more than the Ringmaster who possesses us. Instead, I saw a man who the people out here respect—if the reaction of the crowd is any indication. Not to mention the adorable, petite woman named Frida who is wrapped around his finger.

Which I can’t even honestly say is one-sided. While I didn’t see the man smile, he seemed relaxed while he was around her. Spellbound by her charm just as she was his.

It really was fascinating to witness and something I probably wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t seen it firsthand.

“So what are you going to make?” she asks.

My gaze drifts to the bag on my small table. A brown bag overflowing with colorful fabrics. “Honestly, I’m not sure yet.”

“Liv. If there is something going on between you two—” She trails off, eyes shining bright as diamonds.

Of all of us, she’s been here the longest. Which makes me wonder if perhaps she’s seen that other side. The part of him he hides from the rest of us. “There’s not,” I reply quickly. “You’ve known him the longest—”

Fiona snorts. “I wouldn’t say I know him. We’ve never had private performances if that’s what you’re wondering. And even I had no idea about his fling with Frida.”

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