Page 73 of Protect Me

“Which never would have bothered me before,” I shoot back. “Why are you being such a fucking dickhead?”

Duncan leans in. “This is who I am, Sway.”

“No,” I reply. “It’s not. I might not know you well, Duncan, but I know you’re not this much of an insufferable asshole to anyone but me.” I press both palms against his hard chest and shove. But he doesn’t move. I might as well be pushing against a fucking wall. “Get out. I don’t want you in here.”

His glare darkens, and I wonder if he’s not going to refuse. Honestly, if he does, I might just march back up to my room until whatever stick is stuck up his asshole is gone. “Fine.” He turns on his heel and marches out the door.

The moment I’m alone, I suck in a deep, steadying breath then angrily wipe away the tears that I wouldn’t dare let fall in his presence.Insufferable ass is an understatement.

* * *

An hour into my practice,I’ve managed to work off my anger. Well, most of it, anyway. Duncan might be an ass, but I know he wants me. I can sense it—the pull that’s there between us; a string that can be tugged.

Not that I would ever do that. Not in a million years would I ever influence Duncan to do what I know we both want. Stealing his choice like that is a cowardly move and not one I will wield against him.

“You look great up there.”

I jolt and nearly lose my grip on the silks as I scan the area below me for the observer. A man I’ve only seen a handful of times smiles up at me. He’s bare-chested and wearing loose pants. His white hair sticks straight up as though he stuck his finger into a light socket. Both brows match the same bright shade and are arched as I slide down the silks toward the ground. “Hey, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“No worries. I came to get a workout in.”

“You don’t use the gym?”

He shrugs. “Us carnival performers are not typically welcome in the circus gym.”

“Really? That’s shitty.” My feet hit the ground soundlessly.

Once again, he shrugs it off. “It is what it is. I’m Zaxby, by the way.” He reaches a hand out. “Rooster shifter and the star of a carnival game where onlookers try to pelt me with fruit.”

“That sounds awful.”

He shrugs. “It’s a job.”

I shake his hand. “I’m Helen.”

His grip is cold. “I know. You’ve made quite a bit of drama these days. On the run and everything.” He winks.

“What makes you think I’m on the run?” Nerves settle like stones in my gut, and I cast a glance at the door. It’s blocked with chairs that weren’t there before.

I pretend not to notice, but inside, panic is blaring like a siren.

“Aren’t we all?” he asks. “It is, after all, why we let the Ringmaster own us.”

“Have you been here long?” I try to tug my hand free of his, but he only squeezes harder, refusing to let go.

“A few months,” he replies. “Already exhausted with it, though.”

“Sorry to hear that. Can you please let me go? I need to—”

“I can’t do that. See, I need to get the money to buy out my contract. And you’re the golden ticket I need.” He rips me toward him.

“Dunc—!” I scream, but a hand banded over my mouth silences me. I slam my elbow back into his gut, and he groans, loosening his hold enough that I can break free.

Someone pushes against the door, but the chair wedged beneath the handle holds.

“Sway,” Duncan roars.

“Help!” I try to run.

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