Freeks(9)

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of anticipation, he closed his eyes and his lips found mine. His hand was still on my waist from when he pulled me back down, and the instant our mouths met, his hand tightened, gripping me, and I wrapped my arms around him.





4. judgment

The bed felt luscious underneath me. I hated sleeping in the Winnebago when it wasn’t moving, but being on a real mattress and wrapped in the downy comforters, I couldn’t help but sleep well. It was how I imagined napping in a cloud would feel.

Morning sunlight streamed in through the curtains when I opened my eyes, and I stretched. The house was completely silent, so I’d guessed that the party had finally come to an end. When I’d fallen asleep late last night, the sound of the bass had still been thumping through the walls.

I sat up and peered over the edge of the bed to see Gabe lying on the floor. A pillow was smashed under his head, and his hair that had been so carefully smoothed out last night stuck out at all angles. The blanket draped over him had slipped off, revealing the bare bronze skin of his chest.

When I’d fallen asleep, he’d had his shirt on, so I’m not sure exactly when he’d ditched it. Not that I minded getting a view of it this morning. He was more toned than I’d initially thought, and now I wished that I’d taken things a bit further last night. At least to the shirtless stage, anyway.

We’d made out for a while, but I’d stopped things before they got too heated. I liked having fun, but last night just hadn’t felt like the right time to take things further. Gabe hadn’t seemed to mind when I put the brakes on, and we ended up just talking for a long time.

I’d told him about my mom and offered a few stories about my life, being as vague as possible when it came to the who, what, and where. I’d intentionally left out anything that might connect me to a traveling circus, dodging his questions as artfully as I could.

It’d gotten so late that I’d begun to fall asleep, and Gabe suggested I spend the night. I considered going home, but it was a bit of a walk, and honestly, every chance I had to sleep in a real house on a real bed, I took it. I’d said that I didn’t mind sharing a bed with Gabe as long as it was just for sleeping, but he’d insisted on taking the floor.

I slid out of bed slowly to avoid any creaking or sound. I thought about waking Gabe up, so he could take the bed, but I didn’t want to have that awkward morning-after conversation. Even though we’d both been sober last night and hadn’t done that much, in the harsh light of morning, everything always felt so much more uncomfortable.

I waited until I was downstairs to slip my shoes and jean jacket back on, and then I snuck out the front door without waking anyone. The walk back to camp was a little confusing, even in a town as small as Caudry, and I nearly got lost.

I made it back just as people were waking up. Betty Bates had already done a load of laundry and was hanging it out on the line to dry. A voluptuous woman in her forties, she would’ve been considered a real beauty by most if it weren’t for the thick beard below her lipsticked smile.

Her husband, Damon, was well over six feet tall and as pale as a ghost, but that’s not why he’d joined the sideshow. It was the fully developed third leg he had, that looked particularly odd as he carried a basket of clothes over to Betty.

As I made my way in through trailers, I saw that the tiger run was being set up for Zeke Desmond’s two tigers, Safēda and Mahilā. It had been six years since Zeke and his tigers had joined our little band of travelers, but I still hadn’t stopped being amazed by the giant cats.

Safēda was a rare white Siberian tiger, with gray stripes so light, they were barely visible. When I approached the cage, Safēda rubbed her head up against the metal bars. The cage was on wheels, making it easier to slide on and off a trailer, and it sat a few feet off the ground, so I reached through, stroking her thick fur as she walked past.

Her sister Mahilā was much younger, and she had the light golden-and-white color of the offspring of a white tiger. Zeke had rescued her from a circus that hadn’t been as kind, and her beautiful fur was broken by jagged scars from being beaten. She was much more leery of people, and stayed hidden at the back of the cage.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” I said as I ran my hands through Safēda’s lush fur.

“Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Seth snickered, and I looked away from the tiger to see him carrying a heavy metal gate over his head as he walked past me.

“Funny,” I said dryly.

I quit petting Safēda, and when I stepped away from the cage to follow Seth, the tiger reached her giant paw out through the bars, trying to stop me, and I had to duck out of the way.

“So did you stay out all night again?” Seth asked me.

“It seems that way,” I replied coyly.

Seth set the gate down next to the other fencing he’d been putting up for the tigers’ outdoor pen next to their traveling cage. It had been built to withstand two charging 600-pound tigers, and yet he moved it with ease. He was well-muscled, but his strength surpassed that.

Like many of us in the traveling sideshow, he’d been born with something that made him different. Some were more human conditions, like Betty’s beard, but others came from something supernatural. Seth possessed a strength beyond reason, and I’d seen him lift a pickup truck off the ground with his bare hands before.