“Jesus bloody Christ, Cary.” Rhys jumped up and swung around in anger to loom over me. “I thought we agreed that even though I left, I was still there for you when you felt the need.”
“You weren’t around,” I pointed out. “You were on the other side of the world in a dangerous godforsaken country getting shot at.” I raised an eyebrow, and he looked a little guilty.
“Well, yeah, I guess. But still.”
“What, I should have sent a damn carrier pigeon? A balloon? Maybe a Navajo smoke signal?” I scowled at him. “Anyhow, as I was saying, she knows my secret now, and she’s made me pay. This week is the first time I’ve been back in the ring since the fire. I was on garden leave until I sorted out the cutting.” I stopped and looked up at him. His green eyes were stormy, and the lines of his face, although gaunter, so familiar.
“I’m also seeing a therapist, and it seems to be working. I’m on antidepressants, which sucks, but again, they appear to be doing the job. I feel better about things.”
Rhys sat back down with a smile that lit up the room. “That’s amazing news. I’m so damned proud of you.”
I heard the unspoken thought. I knew him so well despite me trying not to. “Don’t beat yourself up about the fact you weren’t here while all this happened. I know you wanted to help me through it, but I wasn’t ready. I needed to do it for myself, not anyone else.” I grinned at him. “Like I said to Marco, you’re the reason I want to get better, not the instrument.”
He looked at me in confusion. “You talked to Marco?”
I chuckled. “I held a vigil in the forest and we had a heart-to-heart. I’m sure he heard me.”
And I’d read his letter a thousand times too.
Rhys shifted closer. “I’m the reason you’ve done all this? Or part of it anyway, because I didn’t want you to do this for me. I wanted you to do it for you.”
I reached up and ran a finger down his bristly beard. His breath hitched, and his eyes grew darker. “I did it for us both,” I murmured. “Because I’ve been a complete dick pushing you away when I should have been giving thanks for having you in my life.”
He grabbed my hand and held it, his thumb tracing slow circles on the top. “I fell in love with you,” he said simply. “You’re the most infuriating, complicated, stubborn, and gorgeous bastard I’ve ever known, and it tore me apart to walk away.”
I nodded. “Seeing you walk out with that determination on your face, knowing you weren’t coming back—that killed me too. I was a fucking mess for a long time. That fire did me a favour. I had no more secrets to keep and Greta was a kickass. Thinking I might have lost you in Mexico—that made me think too.”
I stood up and walked over the window, staring out as I laid my cards on the table. “I’m not fixed, Rhys. I’m a work in progress, and I’m still going to cut if something stresses me out. I’m an arsehole, and a drama queen, and no doubt I’ll piss people off as much as I did before. But I am trying, and if you can live with that, then I’d like to see if we can work. That is, if you still want to.”
The warmth of Rhys’s body against my back caused my own to flush with heat. His lips against my neck stirred something below and in my chest.
“Is that a trick question?” he whispered in my ear. “I’m not playing hard to get, baby. You’re a difficult bastard, but I knew that from the start. However, there are some things we need to talk about first before we make any decision.”
He swung me around to face him but kept his hands on my waist. “I don’t expect us to know if we’re going to get a happy ever after, Cary. I’m good with happy for now. If that means you keep cutting and I keep bitching, so be it. All I ask is that we talk about it and I’ll do everything in my power to help you kick it to a level you’re comfy with.” His finger came up to brush down the length of my jaw. “I’d like you to keep seeing the therapist too. I don’t mind coming with you if you need me.”
The warm and fuzzy grew in my chest at the concern in his tone. “I can live with that. It won’t be a walk in the park,” I warned him, “but it’s a good start.”
He grinned at me then, a toe-curling, satisfied curve of his mouth that had me grinning back at him. I wanted him to kiss me right then but as we were being all adult and everything, I put the need on hold.
“So how will this work?” His face grew solemn. “I mean, you’ll be here, and I’ll be in Edinburgh, or wherever I’m on assignment.” His face fell. “I don’t mind coming to visit you as much as I can, but a long-distance relationship will be tough. And I can’t see myself living in a circus for the rest of my life, even if it has you in it.” He smiled. “It isn’t where I see myself living long term.”
I pursed my lips. I’d done a lot of thinking about this thing myself. “I have demands too.”
His eyes widened. “You do? Come on, let’s hear them.”
I poked him on the chest. “If you go into fucking war zones with a death wish, I want to know where you are, and you need to put me down as your contact, not bloody Stuart.” I poked him again. “Secondly, we won’t be having a long-distance relationship.”
I watched with amusement as his face lit up. “We won’t?”
I shook my head. “Greta and I have talked about this.” We had discussed this, late into the night with a bottle of wine each. I’d had one helluva hangover the next day. Greta, the bitch, had been hearty and wholesome.
I sighed. “I’m thirty-four in October, Rhys. I’m getting too old to do this circus routine. Not only that.” I stopped, knowing he’d be upset at what I said next. “Over the years, the damage to my thigh where I’ve cut deep has affected a muscle there that hurts like hell when I task it with strenuous exercise. The doctors have a fancy name for it, and they’ve told me I can keep doing what I do, but the pain will get worse.” I laid a finger across his lips as he tried to speak. “And I know it’s a rather ironic situation as I’ve been causing myself pain for so long, and now the muscle is doing it for me, but it’s not the same, believe me.”
“Oh God, that sucks. I know how much you love doing what you do.” Rhys squeezed my shoulder in comfort. I was gratified he didn’t make any fuss about my self-harm and how it had affected me.
“I need to grow up and become self-sufficient instead of running back home to the circus each time I get knocked down,” I said softly. Then I laughed. “Wow. I wonder how many people can say that and mean it. It’s like, such a stereotype.”
He squinted his eyes, surprise flaring in them. “You’re leaving Trazellas?” he gasped.
I was aware we were standing in my living area squashed together, which, while pleasant, wasn’t conducive to the whole “I’m changing my life” conversation. I motioned him to sit down again on the bunk and sat next to him.
“I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve had this idea.” I hesitated, not wanting to seem stupid when I voiced what I’d been thinking about ever since I’d listened to Leo’s impassioned plea to Father Littlejohn.
“What idea, babe? Come on, it’s not like you to be shy.” He chuckled. “What is this master plan, oh Great Air Dancer?”
I scowled. “You’re a dork.”
“But you love me.” His eyes glinted wickedly, and I ignored him, although my chest tightened a little at those innocent words. I wasn’t ready to voice the feelings I had for Rhys yet.
Softly, softly, catchee monkey, I admonished myself. There was plenty of time to figure that out yet.
“Can I finish?” He nodded. “Like I said, I had this idea of a school of some sort, teaching circus skills, aerial work, stuff like that, for troubled teens and anyone else who wants to learn something different. Learning the silks focused me, and God knows where I’d be if I hadn’t taken to them. I thought it might be a way of putting something back into a community that looked after me so well.” I’d been talking with my hands, gesturing as I spoke. “Not only that but I’ve been thinking of going to Open University, taking a proper psych course, maybe getting into counse
lling when I qualify. Lydia, my therapist, thinks I’d be a natural.” I snorted. “All that life experience and shit I’ve gone through must give me some insight into other tormented souls.”
Rhys had stayed quiet through my speech. The way he was looking at me, as if he was seeing a spectacular sunrise, made me a little uncomfortable. I was more used to that expression of awe and appreciation on the faces of seven-year-olds after they’d scrambled around me to ask me how I flew in the air. Although in hindsight, I supposed I might have seen that once or twice in a man’s face when they’d seen me naked.
Rhys bouncing around on the bunk like a puppy brought my focus back to him.
“That’s an incredible idea,” he enthused. “Although you’ll need to practice your smiley face more, or you’ll scare the kids away with your constant snarling.”
“Ha bloody ha,” I said. “If that’s what you think about me, I won’t tell you the best bit.”
He perked up at that. “What best bit?” He reached over and tickled my ribs and I slapped his hand away. I hated being tickled, being ticklish to the extreme.
“Ooh, I’ve found another way to torture you,” Rhys crowed, as he sought more of my tender places. He foiled my feeble attempts at trying to knock him away.
When we fell over on the bunk, Rhys on top of me, we lay there, panting, while our situation became clear.
“I have you right where I want you now,” he whispered huskily. “And if I don’t kiss you soon, I swear I’ll combust.”
His mouth found mine with urgency and I gripped him at the back of his head and ground my lips against his. I held nothing back, wanting to taste him, feel him, own him with the press of my eager mouth. I wanted Rhys to feel how much I’d missed him and needed him, and how glad I was he was back.
Judging from the small groans coming up his throat, and the soft slick of his tongue against mine, he was trying to say much the same thing. In this moment, there was only me, the man ravishing my mouth, and the warm and fuzzy knowledge that maybe this time, we could make it. Together.
I pulled away reluctantly, but I needed to finish my story. Rhys looked at me, pupils blown, lips reddened by the kiss, and I knew, right then, that if I had any hope of redemption for my envisaged guilt he would be the one to help me through it.
“Do you want to hear my plan?” I asked, as he ate me up with his eyes.
“Uh-huh. Then can we get back to the kissing part?” He blinked at me then. “Wait, first can we go back to the bit about us not having a long-distance relationship? I got distracted.”
I swallowed, knowing deep inside this could be something he’d want, but I was still nervous.
“I want a complete change of scenery. England has too many memories and I want to start somewhere fresh. Somewhere we can build on whatever this is we have and take it slow. There’s still a lot to get through and it won’t be a picnic.”
The hope in his eyes was something I’d hoped to see. My body warmed at the knowledge Rhys was glad to be part of the next leg of my journey. No, fuck that. Our journey.
The words came out in a rush as I tried to tell him about my next life plan and make sure he felt included.
“I love Scotland, so I thought if you want me with you, I’d move up there, find a place to call my own close to you, and find a studio or somewhere I can start my circus school.” I hoped Rhys understood that I needed to find my way for a while, become the man I wanted to be while I put the past behind me. “We can work things out and see how things go.”
Disappointment flared on his face, but he soon masked it and instead there was only joy.
“That’s amazing news.” He reached out and caressed my cheek. “I mean, I’d rather you moved in with me, but I get you want to find your feet first after everything that’s happened.” He cupped my face in his hands and rested his forehead against mine. “I want you to be comfortable, and I want to give you as much time as you need. I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
He kissed me then, sweet and slow, and my heart turned to goo. I could do this with Rhys at my side. I didn’t want it any other way.
Chapter 24
Cary
Leaving the circus was harder than I’d thought it would be. It had been my home off and on for so long, and it had been my solace, the port in the turbulent storm of my life. It was time to move on, but that didn’t make it any easier.
I sat on one of the benches, smiling as I watched Rhys taking pictures of the festivities being held in the arena in the Big Top. Greta and Julien had insisted on throwing me and Rhys a going away party. Everyone was there to spur us on to our new beginning.
I was already having second thoughts. After our initial discussion two weeks ago, I’d had time to mull it over and the truth was, I was scared. Scared of leaving my circus family behind, heart aching at the thought of no Greta there to chide me and treat me like a son.
As much as I’d been the aloof and cold bastard, I’d still built a rapport with all these people, and leaving them would be tough.
Someone sat down beside me and nudged my arm. Julien looked at me, a knowing gleam in his eyes.
“It will be all right, Cary, mon ami. This is the right thing to do. It’s time.” He watched with a smile as Greta and Rhys clowned around on the floor. Greta was posing coquettishly as Rhys snapped pictures and the two of them giggled like children.
I nodded. “I think so too. But it doesn’t mean I won’t miss you all, and that I’m not fucking terrified.”
He patted my cheek. “We plan on coming up to Scotland more now you will be there. And we are never far away, my friend. You will keep us all in here,” he prodded my chest, “and we will do the same.”
He inclined his head toward Rhys, who was now kneeling on the dusty floor taking pictures of Lucy and Greta with their arms around each other. “You have a good man there. Rhys is like a mountain, solid and dependable. He loves you, my friend. I can’t imagine him putting up with you if he didn’t.” He snorted in amusement and I glared at him.
“Thanks for the backhanded compliment. I think.”
Julien took my hand in his. “I am proud of you. Our friend Marco would be too. And Greta?” He paused. “She is sad you are leaving, but ecstatic you are ready to move on. You know all she ever wanted for you since you were that scared ten-year-old was for you to find your place in this world, and happiness in it. I think with Rhys, you have made an admirable start.”
Rhys looked over at us and flashed me a grin that made my toes curl. He raised his camera to his face and took quick flash shots of Julien and me. Then he turned to take pictures of the prancing, yapping Yorkshire terriers around his ankles while Madame Grace beamed in appreciation.
Greta walked over to us, her incandescent purple and green muumuu floating around her body like a rainbow cloud. Julien squeezed my shoulder and planted a kiss on my head before he walked away.
Greta sat down next to me and gestured to the antics in the ring. “Everyone is having fun, yes? It is a sad day, but it is also one of hope.” Her warm, pudgy hand cupped my chin. “Mi amor, I am so proud of you. I know things aren’t perfect and that you still do that horrible cutting thing”—I didn’t even try to refute that because it was true, although much less now —“but I am confident one day you will no longer feel the need to punish yourself for surviving that tragic ordeal. For staying quiet. You are a brave man, my Cary, and I think you underestimate yourself. You always have. And now you have Rhys to warm you at night and comfort you when you are lost. I could wish for nothing better for my son.”
My throat closed up and my eyes stung with the prickle of tears. She pulled me into her embrace. “You have been so alone, my Cary, and I thank God every moment He has brought us to this time. I shall miss you dreadfully and think of you always, but it is your time now to have the life God intended you have when he delivered you into my arms that night.”
The tears were falling down my cheeks now as I clutched Greta tight and huddled into her—my
mother, my mentor; the person who had saved my life.
“I love you, Madre,” I choked out in between the sobs that pushed out of a throat unused to such sounds. “I am grateful for everything you did for me, for taking me into your family and giving me a home. I don’t think I have ever told you enough.”
I looked up at her. Across the ring, Rhys watched us, face filled with emotion, and he smiled a soft, sweet smile at me. I smiled back, knowing he’d be over in an instant if I called him.
Greta pushed back hair from my eyes. “Oh, my son, you have told me every day you care, simply by waking up in the morning and keeping going. I knew it would take time to heal you and one day you could let someone love you like Rhys does. You are a lucky man, querido. And now it is time to start the new chapter of your life, with him. I have two sons now.”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The past rushed into my heart and soul like a freight train, eating up the miles into my psyche. I let it run its course, each screech of the wheels taking it further away from me until it was only a distant noise and the heat of its wheels upon my scars. Greta held me through it and I became aware of another pair of strong arms around me and smelt the distinct fragrance of my man while Rhys murmured words of comfort into my ear as he nuzzled at my hair.
Held in the arms of the two people I cared for, loved the most, for once in my life I felt secure and safe.
When I looked up, trying to sniff back the disgusting stuff coming out of my nose, Greta stood there with a handkerchief. She held it out as I nodded my thanks. Then she kissed my forehead, turned, and walked away.
I wiped away tears, blew my nose, and then looked across into the concerned green eyes of the man who had made me whole again. “Sorry,” I said, waving the hanky. “I must look a right mess. All you want is snot and tears in your life.”
Rhys smiled. “I can say I’ve never loved you more. You’re healing, my love. That’s all I ever wanted.”
Living On Air Page 25
