Cirque Du Minuit

by Annabel Joseph

  “I dunno, Wayne. Does that get you hot?” she asked, wiping her mouth.

  “You fucking bitch!” he groaned. “How fucking dare you?”

  “No, how fucking dare you, you asshole? You don’t have a clue what I want. What I like. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Kelsey opened the refrigerator door again and located the pineapple. She momentarily considered flinging it at his head, but then decided it would be a waste of good pineapple. If she couldn’t have Licky Stix...

  She took the pineapple upstairs and shut herself in her room, still a little shaky and freaked out. She tried not to believe the things Wayne had said about Theo, since her former friend obviously had greater issues, but… Was it true that Theo talked smack about her? After all she’d given him? Part of her wanted to deny it, but part of her knew he could be heartless and cruel. And had she really changed that much since Laguna Hills? So much for the worse?

  No, she wasn’t worse. Just different.

  A moment later, she heard a knock on her door. She stayed where she was. If it was Wayne, she wouldn’t open it. If it was Theo, he’d walk right in, which he did a second later. “What’s the matter?” he asked, noticing the woebegone expression on her face.

  “Wayne. He’s a total asshole.”

  “I’ve told you this forty-five times before. Now you finally realize?”

  “It’s not funny. I mean, we really fought. We’re not going to be friends anymore.”

  “He was never your friend. I told you.”

  “Just shut up.”

  “It’s for the best. Just imagine, if you ended up together, you would have these children…so blond, so pale…they would practically be invisible. You would have to put bells on them.”

  Kelsey didn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. She didn’t know why her friendship with Wayne had gone so wrong...and then there was her relationship with Theo. He was scarfing her pineapple right out of the bowl in her hand.

  “Have some pineapple, Theo.”

  “Thanks. I am.” He sat down on the bed beside her. She looked up at him, searching his face. Do you really talk bad about me when I’m not around?

  “What is it?” he asked, sobering. “Did you like him so much?”

  “No, I didn’t like him that much,” she admitted. “Not really.” Not the way I like you. Kelsey sighed and stretched, resting her head on his shoulder. “So...” So how do you feel about me? What’s going on with us? Do you feel anything for me, besides professional interest and lust? “So, did you need something? Or did you just want to finish off my fruit?”

  Theo popped the last piece of her pineapple into his mouth. “Do you believe?” He gazed at her with his gypsy dark eyes. “Do you believe the things Wayne says about me?”

  “What things?” For a moment she thought he’d overheard their conversation in the kitchen, but then she realized he was talking about the gossip Wayne spread around concerning Minya’s death. She and Theo had never talked about the cut safety cable, not openly, not even after he’d gone to Paris those two days. His steady stare pinned her, and she was too cowardly to ask any of the questions she wanted to. Instead she shrugged. “Well, I thought that had all been sorted out.”

  Theo pursed his lips and looked away. “The investigation is over. But still, people talk. Do you believe what he says? Some people believe it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The way they look at me. There are some, even here, who won’t say my name. They won’t talk to me or meet my eyes.”

  Kelsey looked down at her empty bowl. “Does that bother you?”

  “It only bothers me what you think. If you believe. Or...if you doubt.”

  Kelsey sighed. She didn’t exactly doubt him, but she knew she didn’t know everything about that night. There was some secret, some reserve in his eyes whenever they came anywhere near the subject. Like right now.

  But that didn’t mean guilt. No. He couldn’t have had anything to do with her death. It was an accident. Sometimes she had horrible visions of Theo in a Chinese prison, Theo behind bars. Theo, would could fly so beautifully, trapped in a tiny cell.

  “I know you didn’t do anything,” she said. “You never would have done anything to intentionally hurt her.”

  He turned to her with a kind of violence. “I hurt her many times. Don’t you know--” He made a frustrated, distraught sound. “It doesn’t matter.” He took her bowl and set it aside, seeming to search for calm.

  She wanted to plead with him for answers, but she was afraid of what she might hear. She stared at his profile, his hard jaw. She wanted to give him softness, comfort. “May I serve you, Master?” she whispered.

  “Why do you think I’m here?” He pressed her down to the bed and gave her one of his hot gypsy kisses, the ones that left her gasping and feeling dirty. She clung to his muscular shoulders, burying her fingers in his hair. She didn’t want to let him go. She felt him fumbling between them. He yanked down her pants, freed his cock and slid it into her with a ragged sigh. Through all this, he never stopped kissing her. There were just his lips and his hands and his hugeness filling her. When he was done with her, gone for good, what could ever replace such a presence? Such a force?

  Theo... She didn’t realize she was saying his name out loud until he looked down at her. It was a gaze of such mystery, such intensity. He would never let her in; she realized that now. But she would treasure what she had, what he gave her. Somehow she understood he gave her more than he’d ever given anyone else. They climaxed together in a shuddering press of bodies. He kissed her again, more tenderly, licking her lips before he leaned away.

  “That’s what I came for,” he said. “Not pineapple.”

  Kelsey smiled and relaxed in the circle of his arms, enjoying these moments of closeness. She wished he wasn’t always moving away from her, just out of her reach, as soon as they got out of bed. She wished she had no doubt, no questions. “You know what? I trust you, Theo,” she said, more to convince herself than anything else. “I believe in you, no matter what other people think.”

  “Well, that makes you a stupid girl,” he said quietly, pulling her closer and resting his chin against her hair.

  *** *** ***

  Stupid girl. Stupid girl.

  Kelsey sat in the chairs at the theater watching the other acts. Theo was a few rows down, talking to a friend. What was he saying? Something about her?

  She didn’t know why she let Wayne’s words poison her psyche so much. But they had. She looked at all the other performers with suspicion now. She saw judgment in a glance, derision in what was probably a harmless smile. She noticed how some of them really did avoid Theo. How some of them avoided her.

  Wayne avoided her. He was with his own friends near the edge of the stage. When his group of acrobats went on to do their act, Kelsey watched with grudging admiration. They really were good--powerful, dramatic, entertaining. Wayne was good. He’d always been good, always talented. How she’d crushed on him those many years ago. Why did she have to grow up and face reality in all its brutal truth? Wayne had never noticed her then, and he’d only seen her as a conquest now. All his friendly solicitousness was a lie.

  Theo had told her, but she hadn’t believed.

  She didn’t know what to believe now. It was a terrible place to be. She told herself she just had to concentrate on work. Do her job. She would perform, and she’d exchange power with Theo. She’d go to the Citadel, because that was truth, raw and unfettered. Michel Lemaitre lived truthfully. With him, you knew where you stood because he told you, point blank. In his back room at the Citadel, he showed you. Truth.

  “Kels. Come.”

  Kelsey looked up to see Theo beckoning. Their part was coming up. Since their act was last, everyone else was done. They were all sitting and watching. Kelsey found it excruciating in her newfound paranoia. Theo’s friend stared at her as she approached the stage, while Wayne pointedly avoided eye contact. One of the Chinese contortionists frowned
and turned away too, while another gave her an openly vicious look. Two women jugglers whispered behind their hands.

  Kelsey looked at Theo. It only mattered what he thought. She loved their act, loved flying with him. She loved him. For now, it had to be enough.

  They climbed the silks together, following the choreography. As usual, Guy stood near the stage calling out directions on his loudspeaker, mostly stuff they already knew. Theo had told her that in time the silks would feel like part of her body, the act like part of her bones. It was true. Each arch, each grasp unfolded like clockwork for her. Theo was doing his own thing, both of them telling their tale six stories above the floor.

  But suddenly something felt wrong. Some tension was missing. Kelsey gripped her silk, but it was slipping, sliding, far too loose. A scream caught in her throat. She was still swinging, but the silk was ripping away under her weight. She looked at Theo in panic, confused. He looked back with an expression of horror. In the seconds it took her to digest all this, she started to fall. It didn’t make any sense. He had told her, long ago, “Silks don’t rip. Ever.”

  She clutched at the fabric, trying to climb but finding no foothold. Time seemed to stand still. She heard shouts and screams, and her own rasping breath, her pounding pulse in her ears. Her body flipped around, out of control. She couldn’t even identify her position in space, a situation that terrified her as a gymnast, but terrified her even more, now, so far off the ground.

  Go limp. Don’t fall head first. She had no idea how she would land. The silks were supposed to be her safety line. He’d told her that. He’d made her think this was safe.

  You know what? I trust you, Theo.

  That makes you a stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl.

  A dark shadow appeared, a blur to her left. A hand closed around her wrist with a clasp like iron. She felt a jarring pop in her shoulder and excruciating pain.

  She heard Theo’s breath go out in a whoosh, or maybe it was his feet sliding down the silk that made the sound. She hit the stage before he did, but the landing was soft. Theo leaned over her, his hand still around her wrist, as red silk billowed down over both of them. She remembered another time, white silk and swaying trees, and Theo over her. Such intensity in his gaze.

  She tried to move, but he held her down, his face a mirror for her disorientation. Faces and voices crowded around them. Above her, the rigging lurched back and forth, making her dizzy. She cringed and tried again to move, but when she reached out for Theo, she felt piercing pain. Silks don’t rip. Ever.

  She closed her eyes and had the sensation of falling again as the edges of her world went black.

  Chapter Fifteen: Truth

  Kelsey woke feeling groggy. She tried to shift on her bed but her whole body felt stiff and sore. She heard a sound like a hiss. She opened her eyes to find herself in a hospital room.

  A hospital room?

  Events came rushing back to her. A feeling of vertigo, a helpless plummet. She’d fallen off the silks. But she hadn’t fallen. Theo had caught her and slid down to the stage with her. Always so graceful, that slide.

  “Theo,” she cried softly.

  A man appeared beside her bed, but it wasn’t Theo. She searched his face, finding no sign of the feared Le Maître. He was only Michel Lemaitre now, her boss. “Don’t try to move,” he ordered. “You’re okay, but don’t try to move yet.”

  Oh, thank God. She was okay. If he said so, it was true. Kelsey wiggled her toes and moved her legs. She moved her arms and felt a dull soreness in her left shoulder. Lemaitre scowled at her. “I said not to move. You dislocated your shoulder. They have repaired it. Relocated it. But you must rest.”

  “Where’s Theo?” she asked.

  “How do you feel, aside from your shoulder?” There was concern, and some other hooded emotion in his striking light eyes.

  “Where’s Theo?” she asked again.

  “Theo is resting, as you should be. Just lie still. You’re coming off very strong painkillers.”

  Something in his expression triggered groggy unease. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes,” Lemaitre said gruffly. “Why would he not be okay?”

  A nurse came in to take her vitals and cluck over her, fluffing her pillows and giving her some water. She had a short conversation with Lemaitre in French, and then another woman came in who was apparently a doctor. By the time she left, Kelsey was feeling much more alert--and worlds more anxious. “What happened?” Kelsey asked. “Why did the silks tear? Theo said they were strong.” Theo had told her so many things, and she believed all of them.

  “They are strong,” Lemaitre said darkly. “Kelsey, I hate to tell you this, but… They were tampered with. Someone made cuts in the fabric so it would tear under pressure.”

  Kelsey gawked. “Who would have done that?”

  Lemaitre looked away with a frown. “At first, Theo accused your friend Wayne. Apparently he spread a good deal of rumors about Theo that weren’t true. Theo also said you and Wayne argued recently.”

  “Yes, we did, but…” Kelsey couldn’t imagine Wayne taking such drastic measures, not over jealousy and wounded pride. “I don’t think-- I don’t know that he would have--”

  Lemaitre shook his head. “It wasn’t Wayne. The police already discovered who it was. There are security cameras in the rigging area, and in the equipment storage facilities. Ever since…” Kelsey stared at the sober-faced man. Michel looked incredibly bleak. “After Minya died, there were questions.”

  “Where’s Theo?” Kelsey asked, bursting into tears. “Just tell me!”

  “Calme-toi, petite. It is not what you imagine,” he said, handing her a tissue. “But you must know the whole story. I should have told you before.” He paused, his regard a tacit order to collect herself. Somehow, Kelsey did. She wiped her eyes and clutched the tissue in her lap as he continued. “When Minya fell, when they investigated, Theo explained to them it was an accident. But Minya’s family did not believe. There were very hard feelings. Continued accusations. Not just against him, but against you, when you took her place so quickly as Theo’s partner.”

  Kelsey was shocked. “He never told me. No one ever told me.”

  “Theo wanted to protect you from what was being said. But you see, Minya’s family believed…” Michel paused and took her hand. “They believed either you or Theo wanted to get rid of Minya, or perhaps conspired together to make her death look like an accident.”

  Kelsey shook her head. “No. That’s not true. I didn’t even know Theo back then.”

  “Of course it’s not true,” said Lemaitre. “When people grieve, they do not always see the truth, only their own pain and suffering. The man on the video--the man who tampered with the silks--was a good friend of Minya’s family. He was to have married Minya. It was arranged before she became involved with Theo, but once she met Theo...” Michel’s voice trailed off, his hands opening at his sides. “Well, he believed Theo was guilty. He damaged the silks, perhaps hoping one or the other of you might fall in some kind of poetic justice. I’m afraid it was a very misguided attempt at revenge.”

  “Misguided.” Kelsey seized on the word. “It was misguided, wasn’t it? Theo had nothing to do with Minya’s death, did he?”

  Michel’s pale blue eyes held hers, astute, piercing depths.

  “You already know the answer to that, Kelsey, don’t you?” He sighed, long and slow. “The official party line is that the safety cable broke in a freak accident. But the truth is, the line was cut. If you consider a moment, you will understand by whom. There was only one person who would have disabled that safety line.”

  Kelsey’s mind worked, staring into Lemaitre’s gaze. She replayed the scene in her head, Minya swinging wide, Theo grasping for her, catching her. Catching her hand. Kelsey knew the power of Theo’s hand now, and she knew...she knew... He never would have dropped her. Minya, who weighed even less than her.

  “She let go,” Kelsey whispered in a daze. “Minya let go. He didn’t
drop her.”

  “He didn’t drop her,” Michel agreed.

  Kelsey went hot and cold in shock. “And Theo knew. All along he knew he didn’t-- That she--”

  Michel frowned. “Minya’s family is very traditional. Old circus people. They would have seen her actions as very weak. Very dishonorable. Theo felt it was the least he could do, to take the blame. To pretend it was an accident.”

  Kelsey hated Minya in that moment. “It wasn’t fair to him! Everyone said he had bad hands, that he dropped her. Someone almost tried to kill him, when none of it was his fault!”

  “Ah, but Kelsey,” Michel said mournfully, “Theo thought it was his fault. He still thinks so. He and Minya had been in a very intense relationship for a long while, but it was one-sided. In the days before the accident, he was distancing himself from her. He’d even thought about leaving Paris to do a new act elsewhere. She wasn’t dealing with it in a healthy way. Perhaps he also was not.” He fell silent for a moment, pinching his lip. “You see, it is very personal and complicated. And hopelessly sad.”

  Kelsey felt numb. She was angry with Theo for keeping the truth from her, angry with Minya for taking her life in such a cruel and cowardly way. Angry at herself for doubting a man she loved so much.

  “Why are you keeping this secret?” she asked him. “It’s not fair. It makes Theo look guilty. And he’s not guilty, no matter what he believes.”

  “Of course he’s not guilty. But it is not for me to say.” Lemaitre fell silent for a moment, staring past her shoulder. “He worries for you now, Kelsey, that he will hurt you too. This latest accident has shaken him badly. He has gone to Paris and he says he will not come back.”

  Kelsey bolted up, only to be pushed back again with a tsk. She ignored Lemaitre’s insistent handling, shaking her head.

  “No. No! He can’t just leave!”

  “He tells me he is through with circus. He quit. He resigned.”

  Kelsey sputtered in anger. “Just like that? He quit, and you let him? He can’t do that! Call him. Make him come back.”