He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he was forced to admit something he’d fought hard not to. Mikayla Shroeder was hiding something.
Up until now, he’d wanted to believe her refusal to share anything about her past had something to do with her fear of commitment. If that had been the case, he was sure he could overcome it. But whatever she was hiding, she was hiding not only from him, but from the world.
He watched her take the stage with exuberance, and the crowd totally responded to her. It didn’t take him long to understand that for Mikayla this wasn’t about selling her books, it was about the women in the audience. He looked over the crowd and saw them for the first time. Really saw them. Only then did he notice the telltale signs.
Many of them bore the evidence of years of abuse in the form of healed scars, and sadly, some of the scars were fresh. He noticed one woman clutching Mikayla’s book to her chest as if it held all the secrets of life, and he realized that for her it did.
To her, to most of these women, Mikayla was more than a motivational speaker, she was a sister spirit. She was a Valkyrie. A warrior who’d walked through the fire and come out on the other side. Like Dusty, they understood in some collective way that there were secrets in her past she was not willing to share. At least not yet. But together they silently acknowledged what he was now coming to understand.
Whatever Mikayla had been through had made her a stronger woman and now she was trying to pass that strength on to them. And whether she was conscious of it or not, Mikayla needed them as much as they needed her.
Watching her move across the stage, telling funny stories, many of which included Angel, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in her. There was so much more to her, and he was hoping he would have a lifetime to learn every single thing about her.
Mikayla had to be the most complicated and the most difficult woman he’d ever met. And in that moment he realized he loved her, from the way she opened her soul to him when they made love to the way she closed herself up in a brick fortress afterward. Dusty decided right then it would be his life mission to knock down the walls, stone by stone, brick by brick, painful memory by painful memory. He made a promise to himself, one day he would own her heart as she owned his.
As she spoke to the young woman she’d brought to the stage, a girl named Marie, Mikayla fought back the tears. Marie couldn’t have been more than nineteen, and she reminded Mikayla so much of herself after the attack.
She could see the resolve in Marie’s eyes. A change was in the making. This young woman was evolving, and Mikayla knew from firsthand experience that process was different for everyone.
Marie had taken the microphone and was telling the crowd about the first time she read one of the exercises in Mikayla’s book. It gave steps to evaluating your life. She was telling the crowd how for the first time she began to realize she was in a downward spiral of self-destruction, and during the telling of her story, when the memories became too much, Marie gave in to the tears. Which caused Mikayla to give in to her tears. Faces throughout the crowd were reflections of Marie, and Mikayla found herself drawing on pools of strength she did not know she had, hoping in some small way she could transfer it to the crowd gathered here.
Her eyes scanned the group and she found Dusty at the back of the room. He sat at a table, watching her with those compassionate eyes that first made her love him.
Her heart was torn in two over the man. For too many years she taught herself not to trust, and the lesson had been effective. Too effective.
Because now, when she wanted to trust, when she had a reason to trust she couldn’t seem to bring herself to do it. Mikayla had done the only thing she could think to do. She’d brought him into her world. She’d asked him to come with her today because she wanted him to see, to witness, to share, to know.
It was as if she were screaming from her soul, Stop searching for what I used to be—just love what I’ve become.
And he did. She could see it in his eyes. He understood, at least as much as he could. Over the past few weeks, she’d fought so hard to open the door of her heart, but fear, an overwhelming fear would stop her in her tracks every time.
In truth, she did not even understand it. It wasn’t like she was recovering from a broken heart. What had happened to her had nothing to do with love, and yet her ability to love seemed to have been a casualty of the attack.
She had not realized it until now because she hadn’t met anyone like Dusty before. And she was terrified she was going to lose him if she did not find some way to connect to him. Some way to show him how much she loved him. How much she needed him. She tried with her body, she tried to give him everything when they made love. But she knew he needed more. And she had no idea if she was even capable of giving him more.
Marie finished her story, and Mikayla hugged her close, trying to infuse her with courage to take back to the battlefield that was her life.
Mikayla forced her attention away from Dusty and back to the crowd of women who’d come to see her, many of whom had traveled far to be there. Over the next two hours, they laughed together, they cried together, and she spoke of method after method of how they, too, could turn their lives around. Methods that had taken her years to perfect. She was proud of her book and the lives she’d changed.
That evening as they were driving back to the airport, Dusty tried to avoid discussing what he’d seen that morning. He knew Mikayla had had enough of an emotional rollercoaster ride for one day.
“I’ve made a decision,” he announced.
She glanced at him with a wary expression. “Oh? What would that be?”
“I’ve decided not to euthanize Angel.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Glad to hear it. Because if you had so much as hurt a hair on her head, I would have to hurt you.”
“How would you know?”
“How would I know what?”
“If I’d hurt a hair on her head. Her fur is so matted you wouldn’t be able to tell.”
She frowned. “Look, she can’t help it if she has funky hair.”
“You know I’m a trained professional and even I can’t tell with certainty what breeds she comes from.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s my baby, and you’re not allowed to kill her, no matter how much she may deserve it.”
“You owe me a couch—and a vase. Oh, and some more throw pillows.”
“I know.” She sighed. “You were our last hope for any training. I’d heard you were pretty good.”
“I’m damn good!” he said in an offended tone. “With dogs.”
“What are you saying, she’s not a dog?” Mikayla laughed, and it was music to Dusty’s ears. He’d hope to lighten the mood, and it seemed to be working.
“I’m just saying until I can identify her origins…Remember the story years ago about that couple that brought home what they thought was a Chihuahua from Mexico and it turned out to be a rat?”
She burst into laughter. “That’s just an urban legend!”
He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Believe me, she’s a dog. Just your standard, run-of-the-mill mutt.”
“So you say.”
“Since you’ve failed so miserably, can I take her home now?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I said eight weeks, and it’s only been four. Who knows, maybe I’ll manage a miracle in the next four.”
“Or maybe she’ll crush your spirit completely, and you’ll retire a broken man having met his match.”
“We’ll see.”
“I told you she was stubborn.”
“And I told you, so am I.”
“Well.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “May the best mammal win.”
Chapter 15
Rick saw them before they saw him—Leo’s goons, three of them, large and muscular and looking more than capable of breaking a man in half. He cut through the crowded clubhouse in hopes of making it to the exit before he was
spotted. He kept his head down and slumped his shoulders, but he forgot about the all-seeing eyes in the ceiling.
As he approached the exit, he spotted two goons ahead of him. They were watching the crowd and Rick knew right away they were looking for him. He turned and started toward the back entrance leading to the stables, but by then the other goons had caught up to him.
Two of the burly men grabbed his arms and led him toward the exit. “Leo’s been looking for you, Rick.”
Rick forced a laugh. “Why would Leo be looking for me?”
“I think you know why,” the man to the right said, and squeezed his arm a little tighter.
Rick swallowed hard and looked around, hoping for a miracle, wondering if he’d seen his last day.
Outside the stable sat a row of cars. The two men led him to a burgundy-colored Chrysler Three Hundred and forced him inside, each climbing in on either side of him. A third man was in the driver’s seat and he started the car.
As they drove, Rick’s mind was racing, trying to find a way to save his life. He considered anything he owned that could be sold, but one of the disadvantages of being a carnie was that you tended to collect only the things that traveled light, and that did not include a lot of material wealth.
His eyes narrowed as he replayed the conversation he’d had with Kyle the night before. It was the same one he’d been having with the old man almost every day since they’d arrived at the ranch. But the asshole refused to ask Dusty for any money even if it meant his life.
Rick knew Dusty would never give the money to him because he would assume it was to pay gambling debts. And Mr. Self-Righteous was too high and mighty for that. No, they had too much history and Dusty never liked him anyway, even when he was a kid. At least Kyle didn’t judge him, he just refused to help him.
Maybe if he broke into the house and stole some stuff; Dusty probably had all kinds of big-screen televisions, and computer equipment. Maybe he could sneak into the animal hospital one night—there was all kinds of stuff in there, including drugs.
Rick glanced at the two men sandwiching him in and mentally compared them to Dusty. Neither was a good choice. With these men, he could assume they had the kinds of skills that made them very good in their line of work, but with Dusty…he knew what he was capable of. He’d once seen the youngster almost kill a man over a damn car.
No, dealing with Dusty’s wrath if he was discovered breaking into his house or hospital was in no way a better option than whatever Leo had planned for him.
They drove into a part of Miami Rick had never seen before and pulled up in front of a dive. Rick was more than a little taken aback. The last time he’d seen Leo, which was three years ago, the loan shark had been doing much better than this.
“Leo is here?”
The goon to his right nodded. “Let’s go.” He opened the door and taking Rick by the arm, pulled him out of the car.
Rick was beginning to feel a little better. If Leo had sunk to this maybe he wouldn’t be so hard to please. Maybe he could get by paying off half his loan amount. A desperate man will deal.
They led him down a long, dim hallway to a door at the back. The goon sitting on his left during the car ride made a weird sort of rapping noise on the door, and someone inside said come in.
As soon as the door opened and Rick saw the scene inside, the good feeling drained out of his body. Before him stood Leo, looking every bit the successful businessman he remembered. He was staring down at a sheet of plastic on the floor. On the plastic was a heap of something that used to be human, covered in blood and barely breathing.
The man had been so badly beaten his face was unrecognizable. The goon obviously responsible for the assault—since Leo didn’t have so much as a speck of blood on his shoe—was wiping his bloody hands on a large white towel that was quickly becoming reddish-brown.
One of the two goons with him pushed Rick into the room, and that caught Leo’s attention. He looked at Rick and smiled. He actually smiled!
Rick stared back in terror.
“Ricardo! Long time, no see, huh?” He held out his arms. “Come give your Uncle Leo a hug.”
Rick could not have moved his feet if he wanted to.
Leo’s smile faded. “I said come give your Uncle Leo a hug.”
Finding courage he did not know he possessed, Rick moved across the room, but stopped at the edge of the plastic.
“Just go around.” Leo gestured to the plastic and Rick did.
Soon he was enclosed in a bear hug that felt like genuine fondness, but he knew better than to let himself believe it.
“I heard around that you and all your circus freak buddies were back in town, so imagine my surprise when I don’t get so much as a phone call, saying, ‘Hey Leo, I’m back in town.’”
“I was going to call you, Leo,” Rick lied, hoping it sounded like truth.
“Sure you were. Sure you were. But you took so long I decided to look you up instead.” He wrapped his beefy arm around Rick’s shoulder and guided him to a nearby table. “Have a seat.” He gestured to a chair and Rick sat.
“So, how you been? How’s business?” Leo asked.
“Okay, I guess. Look, Leo, I haven’t forgot you. I’m going to get your money.”
Leo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Have I said anything about the fifty grand you owe me?” He looked at his three employees. “You hear me say anything about money?” They all shook their heads in response, before Leo turned back. “Here I am trying to have a nice little reunion with an old friend and you go bringing up some…unpleasantness.”
“I just wanted you to know I wasn’t trying to skip out on you.”
Leo’s smile disappeared. “No, you already did that—three years ago.”
Rick swallowed hard, seeing the raw rage in the man. Everything before had been just a show. This was the true Leo, the man who ruled Miami’s underworld with an iron fist. This was the man who haunted his dreams.
Leo cleared his throat. “I was hoping we could have some refreshments, and maybe a little time to catch up, but okay. You want to get straight to business.” He sat back and laced his fingers over his large belly, and Rick tried to ignore the three goons as they wrapped up the plastic and carried it out of the room.
Leo’s brown eyes narrowed to slits. “Where the hell is my money, Rick?”
“I’m getting it, Leo. I swear I am.”
“You’ve been getting it for three years.”
“I know. I know. But I ran into some hard times.”
“You think I want to hear any bullshit about your hard times? You’re still breathing, aren’t you? Couldn’t have been that tough.”
“Leo, please, just give me a little longer.”
Leo simply stared at him for a long time before he nodded. “I like you, Rick. Always have. You remind me of my sister’s kid. He’s a worthless sack of shit, too, but he has a good heart. In fact, liking you is why I brought you here.” He gestured around the room.
“This is where I deal with those who don’t pay me back.” He gestured to the door. “Like Mikey, there. I gave him every opportunity to pay me my money and he thought I was playing some kind of game or something, because he never took me seriously. I ask nicely, and if that don’t work I bring you here and ask not so nicely. This place is like hell, Rick. Once you enter you never leave. You getting me?”
Rick nodded.
Leo licked his lips and Rick couldn’t help thinking of a tiger that had just finished its meal. “But today, I’m going to make an exception. Today, for you, this place is purgatory.”
Rick frowned in confusion.
“I’m going to let you go today, but what you do after you leave this room will determine whether you end up in heaven or hell.” Leo dropped his hands from his stomach and stood. “Get my money by the end of the week, Rick. Or the next time you see this room, you won’t be leaving.”
Rick stood on shaking legs, not actually believing he was being let go. He inched towar
d the door and when Leo made no move to stop him he bolted the last few steps.
He yanked open the door and Leo’s words stopped him. “The end of the week, Rick.” Leo turned to look at him. “And keep in mind, me liking you won’t save you again.”
It took Rick a couple of hours to find his way back to a part of town he recognized and even then he was still edgy looking over his shoulders. He couldn’t believe it. Leo was not exactly known for his benevolent nature, so Rick kept thinking it was all some kind of cruel trick. He found his car just where he’d left it at the dog track and hurried back to the camp, back to the ranch where it was safe.
From the time he joined his first circus twenty-three years ago, the circus had felt like home. Working with the horses was as soothing a life as any man could ask for…but the itch. The uncontrollable itch to test his skills against lady luck. That itch had been his downfall as far back as he could remember. That itch was about to get him killed.
As he pulled through the gates to the Warren ranch, he had mixed feelings.
One, the sense of safety he felt in the presence of other carnies, and a sense of resentment that Dusty had acquired so much in his short life and wasn’t willing to share it with them, his family. He was hoarding it all to himself.
It wasn’t right.
As he entered his trailer a short while later, the fear was beginning to subside. He stretched out across his bed and focused his mind. He had to get Leo his money by the end of the week. He had no intention of ever seeing that room again, except in his nightmares.
He thought about asking Kyle to go to Dusty on his behalf once more, but he knew when Kyle made up his mind about something that was that. And going to Dusty directly was out of the question. He racked his brain, thinking of anyone else he knew that had that kind of money. Suddenly, it hit him.
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