Jareth watches me sweating and heaving from a dozen feet away, cozy in his rug and idly chewing some hay.
“All right for some, isn’t it, boy?” I gasp, holding an axle with one of the other men while Gorran props it up. Just in time, too, because my heel skids on the mud and I fall on my ass. The others help me up and I wipe my hands on the least muddy part of my jeans I can find. Glamorous circus life.
We finish, I wash up and change into clean, dry clothes and go and call my mother. The usual pang of guilt goes through me as I lift the receiver in the public call box. It’s not like she ever asks if I’m going to settle down instead of crisscrossing the country, year after year, but I can feel the questions hanging over me. I’m their only child now. I’m thirty-one. They’re probably wondering if they’re ever going to have any grandchildren. The only woman I’ve been interested in for years is an intensely vulnerable seventeen-year-old girl, so I fucking doubt it.
I lean against the square panes of glass in the booth, both hands shoved deep in the pockets of my coat and the receiver tucked against my ear. Mum picks up, and we exchange pleasantries about their farm and my circus.
Then she asks, “How many for Christmas this year?”
My eyes drift over the camp until they land on Ryah, who’s carrying an enormous bale of hay and wearing men’s jeans turned up several times so they’re not too long for her, and a heavy knitted jumper. She’s swimming in the huge clothes, but she looks cute as hell. She drops the hay by the horses and beams at them. One of the bays nudges her affectionately and almost knocks her off her feet. She turns around, scolds it a little, and then plants a kiss on its nose. I quash the smile that’s spread over my face so my mother doesn’t hear it in my voice and ask me what’s so amusing.
“About the same. Maybe one or two more.” I’ll have to have my poker face fixed on tight around my mother. No one in the circus seems to have clocked that I’m fonder of Ryah than I should be, though I’ve seen Elke watching me speculatively a few times. Usually after she’s caught me watching Ryah from across the fire.
I’m not staring. I’m just checking she’s okay. That’s my job.
As I hang up, I feel quite cheerful at the thought of the Christmas break. I’m looking forward to some downtime and a break from the traveling. The mud. The cold. I find I’m also excited by the thought of Ryah seeing where I grew up. Maybe we can go riding together and I’ll show her all the laneways and bridle paths that became so familiar to me as a boy.
I lean against the side of a wagon, watching Ryah chat with Aura. I’m too far away to hear their conversation but I enjoy her animated expression. My parents will like her, I think with a smile. Thoughts of children are still hovering at the edge of my mind.
That makes me think of Ryah pregnant. Of getting Ryah pregnant. Seeing her naked and spread before me in bed, those sparkling blue eyes gazing up at me trustingly. Then hazy with desire. Then her cheeks flushed with heat as she moans my name and comes while I’m deep inside her.
My dick gets suddenly, painfully hard. I clear my throat and head into my wagon, intending to calm down and head out again, but the image of Ryah’s naked body beneath my own is too vivid.
I slide my hand along my hard length beneath the denim, and the friction makes me groan under my breath. My head full of Ryah, I unbuckle my belt and undo my jeans. I pump my hand up and down my length, imagining her pretty pussy all wet for me. I’d have to go careful with her at first, because I don’t think she’s ever been with a man before.
The idea of showing sweet, innocent Ryah how good it feels to be fucked has me tipping over the edge. At the last second I grab wildly for discarded T-shirt so I don’t make a mess.
I stand there panting in the half-light, imagining lazily kissing Ryah, her naked body held tight against mine. That was wildly inappropriate. I should probably go do something constructive.
It’s just after four and nearly dark when I’m passing by the campfire and hear something that makes me stop dead.
“I mean, Ryah’s pretty and all, but I’m too young for her, you know? Heard her father was giving it to her real good before she got here. Fucked her right up.”
A sick feeling plunges through me. No. It can’t be true. Anything but that. I turn and seek out the speaker in the half-light.
It’s Tanno. Rage detonates through me as I listen to more filth spilling from his mouth.
“No wonder she’s always hanging around Cale like jailbait.”
Tanno’s companion sees me coming before Tanno does, and something in my face makes him turn pale and back off. Tanno’s too busy enjoying himself to notice me bearing down on him.
“Got a taste for old man. Once they’re fucked up like that they’re useless to the rest of us.”
Tanno turns around the split second before I reach him. His eyes go wide and he opens his mouth, but whatever he was going to say is lost as I raise my fist and sink it into his face.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryah
I don’t notice that anything is wrong until Jareth starts rearing and plunging. He’s straining at his tether, trying to get to the campfire.
“Jareth, calm down, what’s wrong?” I try to soothe him, but he won’t be placated.
Then I realize why. It’s Cale. Something’s happening to Cale.
I push my way out from among the horses and stare around the camp. Everyone’s on their feet and there’s some sort of commotion over by the campfire. Someone swings a punch at Cale, but misses.
I rush forward without thinking. Before I can reach them, a hand grips my arm. It’s Anouk.
“Best stay out of it. Cale’s dealing with it.”
We stand together, gripping each other’s hands and staring at Cale and the man who’s trying to hit him. It’s Tanno, and his lip is bloodied. I’ve never seen Cale so angry before.
“Get the fuck out.”
Tanno is half-indignant, half-laughing. “What the fuck? What the fucking fuck, man? You on one of your power trips again?” Tanno looks around at the others, as if to say, can you believe this guy?
No one laughs with him. Cale looks steely and terrifying, and I don’t know how anyone could laugh in the face of that.
“Take your gear. Take your costume. Take your wages—” Cale reaches into jacket for his billfold and throws some notes at Tanno’s feet “—and get the fuck out of my sight.”
“What’s going on?” I whisper to Anouk, huddling against her for comfort in the midst of all this turmoil.
“I don’t know,” she whispers back. “I was inside the wagon. Tanno said something, and now Cale is throwing him out of the circus.”
Gorran steps up behind Cale and folds his arms, glowering at Tanno.
Tanno looks between the two men, and the smile drops from his face. “Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere. Fight me like a man, or are you too chicken?” Tanno swings a punch at Cale, who jerks to the side. Tanno goes crashing into the mud.
Cale reaches down and grasps Tanno by the scruff of his coat and starts dragging him away, his face like murder.
Tanno flails wildly. “You asshole. You fucking petty dictator!”