Last Kiss Goodnight oa-1

by Gena Showalter

  “I’m embarrassed for you,” Dr. E said. “You should—”

  “He told you to shut up!” X climbed up Solo’s ear, stomped across his head, and jumped onto his left shoulder. He grabbed the once-beautiful blond by the ear and, as Dr. E yelped, disappeared.

  I owe that man a lot more than another thank-you.

  And the girl, if he was being honest. Solo took a bite of the toast. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Vika.”

  Another smile, this one not quite as bright. “I wish I could do more.”

  “I don’t want you to do more. I don’t want you to risk yourself on my behalf again.”

  She blinked rapidly. “Are you trying to protect me? The girl who is not bound by shackles?”

  “Yes. I vowed I would.”

  “And you always keep your promises, you said.”

  “Always.”

  The rest of the tension drained from her, and she said, “That is very sweet of you.”

  A female referring to him as “sweet.” A novelty he quite enjoyed. But she hadn’t promised not to risk herself, had she.

  “So is your name really Solo?” she asked.

  “It’s Solomon, but my friends call me Solo.” He should have given her the same Bob Fred alias he’d given Criss, but he liked the idea of his name spilling from those heart-shaped lips.

  “And you’re fine with me calling you that?”

  “Yes.” More than.

  “Even though we’re not friends?”

  He nodded. A smoother man would have said something like “We are friends” or “I would love to be your friend,” but the words would have sounded false coming from him. He didn’t actually want to be her friend. He wanted to use her . . . he wanted to save her . . . and he wanted to have her.

  She thought it over, nodded. “Very well. Solo.”

  Reality was far better than supposition. “About Audra,” he said, and she paled. “What do you know about her tattoos?”

  Her head tilted to the side, her expression resigned. “She tried to use one against you, didn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “Matas taught her a little about black magic. Ever since, the spiders come to life and bite whomever she desires. And oh, it’s painful. Makes you sick.”

  “You have been bitten?”

  “A few times.”

  Strike three, Audra. “Listen, you’re in trouble. Your father suspects you’re the one who’s been feeding me.”

  Her knees buckled, and she would have collapsed if he hadn’t reached out and grabbed the hem of her T-shirt to steady her. How light she was. At her strongest, she would not be a match for his weakest.

  “Can’t I ever avoid a break?” she asked with a tremor.

  Avoid a—Wait. “You mean catch a break.”

  “Why would I want to catch a break? You catch a ball. You break bones, homes, and hearts. And now, I must go.”

  Not yet. He wasn’t ready. “Free me, Vika.” The only thing he’d ever begged for was the lives of his adoptive parents, and that had gotten him nowhere. Still, he might beg for this. “Let me protect you better.”

  Her mouth opened, closed. Once again she shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  “No. I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head all the harder for emphasis. “And I know, I know. My refusal means you’ll go back to being a rude little giant . . .”

  Uh, that expression made absolutely no sense.

  “. . . and you’ll start issuing death threats again, but I have to remain with the circus for a while longer. I just have to.”

  “Why? Jecis beats you. Why not leave him before he has a chance to hurt you again?”

  “You don’t understand. I can take a beating, I can, but if I leave before I’ve—just before,” she said, stopping herself from admitting something she didn’t want him to know, “Jecis will find me and kill me, as well as the otherworlders.”

  “You’re his daughter.” His precious. His beloved, Solo remembered, and had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from cursing. “He wouldn’t kill you.”

  Another small smile, this one sad at the edges. “He wouldn’t mean to. Wait. I take that back. Maybe he would. To Jecis, leaving the circus is the ultimate betrayal and deserves the ultimate punishment.”

  “But you want to?” He gripped the bars. “Leave, I mean?”

  Hope glittered in her eyes, and she nodded. “I do.”

  His own sense of hope bloomed. “One day, this circus will be destroyed. Jecis has hurt too many people not to be hurt himself. That’s a spiritual law, and spiritual laws are always enforced. The longer you stay, the more likely you are to be caught in the crosshairs.”

  “One day,” she parroted hollowly.

  “Yes. Free me, Vika, and that day can be today. I’ll take care of him. He’ll never hurt you again.”

  Shame obliterated what remained of the hope. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not? Do you love him?” he asked.

  “When he’s an evil man with no goodness left inside him?”

  That wasn’t exactly an answer.

  “No,” she finally said, “but he’s also my father. I can’t. I just can’t. And besides that, you would have to kill Matas, too. Otherwise, he would come after us and the same fate would befall us all.”

  Solo would happily take care of Matas.

  “And then, after both men are dead, and I have no means of protection,” she said, “you would leave me out there in the big, bad world to fend for myself, penniless, helpless. You wouldn’t mean to, I know. I can tell you’re a good man. But you have a life out there, one that doesn’t include the zoo owner’s daughter, and you would eventually cut me loose.”

  “No—”

  “You would also sentence the other captives to death,” she interjected. “They would be slaughtered simply to punish me.”

  “I would come back for them.”

  “Yes, but would you make it in time? No, you can’t guarantee that.” She turned her head away, trying to end the conversation the only way she could.

  Solo latched onto her wrist, giving it the barest squeeze to bring her attention back to him. “I will leave your family alone if that’s what you want.” He would hand them over to Michael, and the end result would be the same, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’ll release the otherworlders and take you with me, and you’ll never have to fend for yourself. I have money. I can take care of you for the rest of your life, if you so desire.”

  Her gaze searched his features. “I . . . I actually think you mean that,” she said.

  “I do. And I’m willing to vow it.”

  “Don’t,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t want you morally bound or anything like that, when there’s a huge problem with your plan.”

  “And that is?” he said, urgency riding him hard. He would have a solution, whatever it was, and she would free him. She had to free him.

  “The cuffs.”

  “They aren’t actually a problem. I have a friend who can remove them.” John could remove any kind of shackles. If he’s still alive. The thought irritated him. He was. And that was final.

  “You’ll lose your hands.”

  “They’ll grow back.”

  A moment passed. She shook her head, as if his words were too odd to keep inside her head. “The real question is, can you reach your friend before Jecis finds you? And what about the other prisoners in the meantime?”

  He popped his jaw. He had no immediate solution for that, which meant he had to try another angle. “Do you like the life you lead? Hiding under mobile homes? Sneaking food to prisoners?”

  Growling low in her throat, she slapped at the bars. “No, but I have a plan. A plan that will work better than yours, thank you. I just have to wait for the perfect time.”

  Ah. Her mysterious plan. “There will never be a more perfect time than this moment. I’m here. I’m willing.” He spread his arms to dr
aw her attention to a hard-won strength far superior to her father’s. “I will do what I say I will do. I will save you, protect you. And why would you care about the others, anyway? They hate you.”

  Back up went her chin. “Here’s a little lesson you should probably take to heart. Anyone who returns hate for hate is no better than my father, and I won’t trade one monster for another.”

  How dare she compare him to Jecis! Even though he had done the same to himself. He wanted to yell at her.

  He also wanted to hug her.

  He definitely wanted to kiss her.

  “If you walk away from me, Vika, you condemn me to death.” A stretching of the truth, and a definite manipulation, but why not? Everything else had proved futile.

  The flush drained from her cheeks, leaving her as pallid as Dr. E. “I spend every spare second searching for the key to the cuffs. I have for years, in fact. I’ll find it. I will free you.”

  The announcement floored him. For years, she’d said. She’d been trying to help the captives for years.

  Solo reached through the bars. She flinched, but didn’t dart away. With anyone else, he would have taken such a reaction personally and raged. But with her, with her past, he knew better and allowed himself to trace his fingertip along the curve of her jaw. So soft, so smooth.

  Her breathing quickened—but she still didn’t leave.

  He wasn’t going to convince her to do what he wanted. He knew that now. She was too stubborn, too blinded by the merits of her plan. And there were merits. There just weren’t enough.

  He would have to join her. For now. “I’ve studied the cuffs. The key is probably metal, with a slender belly and two fat ends. Look for something in the shape of the letter eight.”

  “I will,” she rasped, and licked her lips. “And thank you.”

  His arm fell to his side. If he continued to touch her, he would give in to his urge to cup her nape and tug her forward. To steal the air from her lungs. If that happened, he would stop listening for her father.

  She backed away from him. “This is our last day in the city. After the last show, we’ll pack up and leave. Jecis will keep you here, wanting you nearby during your first trip. I’ll return to you when I can.” A nervous laugh left her. “If I can.”

  With that cryptic statement, she spun and raced from the area, never glancing back.

  “Why—” he began, only to slam his lips together. She couldn’t hear him.

  He punched the bars. He hated his captivity, yes, but deep down, a part of him hated watching that woman walk away more.

  Fifteen

  A man of understanding will acquire wise counsel.

  —PROVERBS 1:5

  V IKA WEIGHED HER OPTIONS. Her father suspected she had been feeding Solo. He would question her, intimidate her, and he would discern the truth. There would be no hiding it; there never was, and she’d known that before she’d acted. But still she’d been unable to stop herself from helping the injured otherworlder. Even now, it wasn’t a decision she regretted. He had warned her about what awaited her, despite the fact that she could have packed a bag and left him in the dust.

  I should have freed him.

  But . . . she didn’t want to be without him. Somehow, he had become a safe haven.

  He was so beautiful, more beautiful with every day that passed. And he was so sweet to her, so wonderfully protective.

  Constantly she wondered what it would feel like to kiss him while he was awake, and then, to be kissed by him. Because he wanted her, not because he wanted something from her. In fact, all during their conversation she’d wondered.

  Now she had to know. It was a need.

  He was a need.

  His scent, his gaze, his touch, his heat, the calluses on his hands. His smile, his frown, his wit, his kindness. She hadn’t gotten over the fact that he’d used his body as a shield to save her from a bullet already meant for him.

  Everything about him appealed to her.

  Yes, she should have freed him—but she was still glad she hadn’t. Not just for her selfish reasons, but because he was better off here, trapped, than out there, being hunted by her father.

  If she’d thought, even for a second, that he could successfully hide from Jecis with those cuffs on his wrists, she would have done it, would have risked it. But no. He couldn’t. No one could.

  The best course was for her to stay here, take care of the otherworlders, and take whatever discipline her father dished out. It would hurt, it would humiliate her, but if Jecis beat her, the wedding would have to be delayed to give her time to recover. Time was all she needed. But oh, knowing what she’d have to endure caused a shudder of revulsion and fear to rock her.

  She just . . . she had to find that key. At least now she knew what to look for.

  Vika changed into a soft, comfortable tee and flowing pants, something she could relax in while feeling as if her organs were nothing more than mush. She pulled on her most comfortable boots and reclaimed the knife she’d found in her mother’s favorite trinket box a few years ago, only to stop, her attention caught on the beauty of the weapon.

  The hilt was carved from mother-of-pearl and when held to the light glistened with all the colors of the rainbow. The blade was currently hidden, but when released was thin and silver and sharp.

  How could something so lovely hurt so absolutely?

  Her mother used to polish the metal with loving strokes, but only when Jecis was absent. Three weeks before her death, she had glanced up at Vika and smiled a little crazily. One day he’ll push me too far, and I’ll kill him. We won’t ever have to be afraid again, will we, princess?

  One day.

  Now Vika laughed without humor. “One day” was the answer to everything, wasn’t it.

  “How could you leave me with him, Momma?” she whispered. He’d only grown worse over the years, more and more of his heart rotting and his soul withering. And the truly sad thing was, he had no idea he’d become a monster. He still considered himself fair and just. “How could you pick another man over me?”

  With a sigh, Vika stuffed the blade inside her pocket.

  Wisdom will save you from the ways of wicked men, and arming yourself for war is wise.

  The voice startled her, and she spun. A swift search proved she was still alone, and her spine lost its sudden rigidity. Alarm was replaced by anticipation. Not an intruder, after all, but the return of the good . . . whatever he was.

  “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you?”

  Last time, he’d ignored her. This time, he answered. My name is X, and I am your . . . helper.

  X. “As in, X marks the spot?”

  Exactly.

  “Just how are you supposed to help me, X?”

  You tell me. You summoned me.

  Uh, no. No, she hadn’t. “I think I would remember something like that.”

  But you do not think I can feel your torment?

  Her emotions were so strong she was projecting them into the other realm? “You mentioned war,” she said. “You seem so, well, gentle. Shouldn’t you have a problem with the use of force?”

  Against wickedness? May it never be!

  Good point. But, “I don’t want war,” she said. “I want peace.” Finally. For once.

  How do you think peace is won?

  War, but . . . “How do you think people are lost?”

  And you’re not lost right now?

  Her motions were jerky as she anchored her thick mass of hair into a ponytail. “I’m alive.”

  And you like your life?

  Solo had asked her the very same thing. “What can I do to change it? Tell me, please, because I’m certainly doing everything I can and having no luck.”

  Trust.

  “Who?”

  Silence.

  “Who?” she demanded.

  Again silence.

  Annoyed by such an abrupt end to their conversation, she stomped from the vehicle. Behind her, the door shut and locked auto
matically.

  She was supposed to remain in her trailer again today, but she wanted to deal with her father rather than run, and she wanted to get it over with. Waiting would only make things worse.

  The sun was bright, glaring. In an hour, the circus would open. Right now performers bustled about, setting up shop while trying to pack up everything they wouldn’t need. The day would be hectic. And oh, was Solo in for a shock. When the circus left the outskirts of New Atlanta, he would meet a whole new crop of monsters—and he would grow to love the bars that contained him.

  Don’t think about that right now. She might lose her nerve.

  Vika raced out of the sectioned-off area where the performers lived and through the games and rides. First she bypassed the big wheel. Soon, each basket would twirl round and round and upside down as a performer swung from the bar stretched across each cart. None of the patrons would realize those performers were anchored to the bars with flesh-colored cuffs and weren’t in any danger of flying to their deaths.

  Next she passed the roller coaster that would shoot through man-made tunnels decorated to resemble different planets, each one filled with bright lights, mystical holograms, and spooky mist. Only, the mist wasn’t there for visual effect, as the humans always assumed. It was there for physical effect. In the particles was a small dose of adrenaline, making the ride seem more exciting than it actually was.

  After that, the bumper cars came into view. An electric shock would be delivered to every driver who was hit. For some reason, people loved watching their fellow humans jerk against the sting, loved hearing the ensuing curses and growls, loved being chased at high speed, where revenge was eventually taken.

  She turned a corner and entered the food court, the scent of fried bread and meats wafting through the air, followed by caramel and citrus. Once she cleared the canopy overhead and snaked around another corner, the games Jecis used to earn even more cash from the otherworlders who had already lost their appeal came into view. Pin the Tail on the Wedlg, Rakan Piñata, and the Delensean Rack-and-Sack were the current crowd favorites.