Vagabond Circus Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  “Titus, you aren’t in this alone. I’m not leaving you and we will get through this together. I promise,” the healer said.

  A weak smile whisked to his thin lips. “Thanks, Fanny.”

  Chapter Fifty- Nine

  Beige walls showed little contrast to the worn brown carpet in the hospital waiting room. Zuma sat hunched forward in a tan chair, her elbows on her knees. It was the “Jack’s frustrated” pose and felt like the right position to take right then. Except that for the time being it would be relabeled the “Zuma is devastated” stance. Finley and she were the only ones in that part of the waiting room, which was the only comfort. She wanted to be alone with her pain without outsiders staring at her as they always did. Zuma didn’t mind Finley’s eyes on her right then though, or ever really. She felt them on her like a cool breeze on her skin. From her peripheral she knew he was leaning against the scuffed wall, his eyes roaming over her turned down face, her hair hanging in front of her, and her hands pinched together.

  “Can I get you anything?” he finally said, breaking the silence. His voice had a tamed roughness to it.

  She pulled her sobering eyes up and spied the stress register on him, tensing tiny muscles of his face, shoulders, and chest. It was the sight of her agony that caused that stress in him. She knew it and it pained her right back. Zuma turned her head down, shielding it from his view.

  “No, I’m fine,” she lied. Then she shook her head, the sudden speech bringing her anger barreling to the surface. “How is it that Knight, a man I don’t even know, is responsible for almost killing both of my best friends and successfully killing my favorite person?”

  “Jack is going to pull out of this, just as Jasmine did,” Finley said, remembering when Sebastian’s poison had accidentally been spread to Jasmine when it was meant to kill Dave.

  “You don’t know that,” Zuma said.

  “No, I don’t, but what do you want me to say right now?” he said, his voice sturdy.

  She almost smiled at his words. Only Finley would sugar-coat things and then say something so matter-of-factly.

  The smell of stale coffee wafted through the room as the two listened to the only real noise, the ticking of the clock on the wall. It seemed to be mocking them as they waited for news from the doctors.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Each tick seemed to be a stolen beat of Jack’s heart, the same one Zuma had restarted but had no idea if it was still beating.

  “You want me to take you home?” Finley said, realizing at once that the question was futile. He wasn’t sure why he’d asked it. Just seemed like the thing to ask right then.

  Zuma shook her head, a pure conviction in the simple movement.

  “They said it would be several hours. Are you sure?” he said, his eyes seeing nothing out the only window in the waiting room. Outside it was black. They’d been there for hours already and Zuma’s exhaustion was easy to read paired with her pain.

  “I’ll sleep here,” she said and dared to glance at Finley. He was the one who she thought needed rest. All of the teleporting had drained him in a way he didn’t expect since he’d never done it before that day. “You can take my car and leave if you need to.”

  He gave her a contemptuous glare under hooded eyes. “Oh, be quiet. You know I’m not leaving you.”

  She shrugged. “I figured as much, but I wanted you to know the offer was there.”

  He shook his head at her. “Well, do you want me to get you water or something?”

  “No,” Zuma said and stood, her legs unsteady under her. She was light-headed from not eating. Dizzy from not sleeping.

  Finley stood straight when she approached him, noticing the drain in her every movement. Zuma didn’t pause when she neared him. And he tensed when her hands found his waist and she pulled him into her, tying her arms around his back. In one movement she’d cleared the space between them and wrapped herself around him, not stopping until her head lay on his chest.

  After his heart slowed slightly, he said, “Are you wanting me to teleport you somewhere? Is that why you’re holding on to me?”

  She pulled back and gave him an aggravated glare. “No. You keep asking if I want anything and I do. I want your comfort,” she said, disbelieving the words as they emptied out of her mouth.

  Without hesitation he threaded his arms around her, pulling her more firmly to him. Zuma wasn’t one to lean on someone. After Dave’s death she’d never wanted comfort from another. Never found it much use to her heart of stone, but in Finley’s arms she felt something new. A relief of sorts, like all troubles were temporarily lifted from her heart.

  He drew back an inch and cupped her face in both his hands, both his eyes piercing her soul from the outside. “Anything I can ever give you, Zuma, is yours. Always know that.”

  She nodded, pulling him back to her, sliding her head into the crook of his neck. It was a perfect fit.

  He cinched her in tighter to him as he pressed his eyes shut. Finley, who had never had anything for all of his life, who regarded being rich as akin to living full time on the moon, suddenly felt as though he was the wealthiest man on Earth.

  Chapter Sixty

  Zuma had managed to encourage Finley to sit down after hours of standing and pacing. Now his head was resting in her lap. Both acrobats were stationed on the dirty carpet of the waiting room floor, Zuma hunched over a sleeping Finley. It had taken her the better part of an hour to convince him to sit and then it took another hour to lure him into a peaceful state by running her fingers over the backs of his hands and arms. She watched as his eyelids took longer blinks and his pulse slowed on his wrist. Tiny hints that only she could see with her naked eye. And when she sensed his resolve was low she encouraged his head on her shoulder and within a minute he’d leaned all his weight onto her. Easily she let him slide down until his head was nestled in her lap.

  Zuma sat over him, fingering her hands through his short brown hair. Stubble had formed on his chin and cheeks and it felt rough against her fingertips. It wasn’t as odd to her as she thought it should be that she was lovingly caressing this guy who twenty-four hours ago she detested. Firstly, she admitted to only herself that the whole detesting had been a ruse. And secondly, Zuma reasoned that it was only because in her purest of hearts she had to admit that loving Finley was completely and absolutely unavoidable. She hadn’t forgiven Finley and didn’t know when that would happen, but even after everything she knew she loved him. Loved him with something so pure that it couldn’t be stopped. She’d tried to stop herself from loving him, but it was like changing the rotation of the Earth or snuffing out stars with a single thought. It just couldn’t be done. Such things were the natural order of life. Predators hunt prey. Night precedes morning. Zuma loves Finley.

  Just as it felt natural to hold his sleeping form close to her it felt natural to love him, as if she was born for that purpose. Staring down at the almost peaceful expression on his face tightened her heart. It made her feel there was something just outside her grasp that given the right circumstances she could grab. And Finley made that desirable reality possible, but strangely she had no idea what that was. What could she grab? What powers did he grant her, just by being able to love her?

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The clock kept track of the early hour while Zuma studied the details of Finley’s face. She was so engrossed in him that she didn’t notice the doctor making his way to her. When she looked up she had trouble deciphering the doctor’s expression. This was a man who had a mixed message and was about to give it to her. A message regarding Jack’s fate.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  The clinical smell of the hospital was drastically different from the smells Zuma associated with Vagabond Circus. The circus had aromas of dirt, popcorn, and chalk. The hospital smelled of chemicals in every way. Unnaturally so. She pushed open the door to Jack’s room and her throat caught at the sight of him. Wires snaked from his finger. His hand was taped where the IV was attached.
And Jack’s face was pale and drawn. Her eyes roamed over the machines by his bed. They told her his heart rate was steady but the look on his face told her he was still in shock.

  “Zuma,” he croaked out at the sight of her. His hand tethered by tubes reached for her as he simultaneously tried to sit up but failed.

  She pressed him back on his pillows when she arrived at his bedside, her lips caressing his cheek as a greeting. Zuma pulled back and regarded him with a look of heartbroken affection. “Hi, Jack,” she said.

  He blinked back at her, confusion lacing around his brown eyes. “I don’t remember anything,” he said. Then he pressed his eyes shut and when he opened them Zuma fractured a little from the look in eyes. “I mean I don’t remember much after the fall.”

  “You’re safe now,” she said, reaching for his hand, but hesitated to hold the one pierced by a needle. She took his other and he cinched on to it with a strength that gave her hope. Jack was still strong. That meant so much to her right then. “The doctor said the surgery went well,” Zuma said.

  “Yeah, now I just wait,” Jack said, his eyes staring down at his motionless legs.

  “We wait,” she corrected.

  “Z, I thought I was going to die,” he said and his eyes watered instantly.

  “I know,” she said.

  “And I…” His throat closed up with tears and he dropped his head in his hands, covering it at once. I was so afraid, he said in Zuma’s head across the telepathic link. Jack couldn’t bear to speak out loud any longer. To hear his own tortured voice. It sounded unnatural to him.

  She stayed quiet knowing he just needed to get it all out.

  I’d never experienced such pain. Such fear. It was the worst experience I could have ever imagined, Jack said, his voice sounding stronger in her head than it had been out loud. Then he brought his chin up and Zuma knew at once that look on his face. It was one she had memorized in Finley’s eyes. It was the scars that Knight inflicted on the people he hurt. And Zuma knew that expression would never leave Jack’s face. Forever his eyes would be haunted by this memory of his almost death.

  “And when I was lying there all alone and in the worst agony ever, I prayed to die,” Jack said out loud. “But now I’m so grateful that you saved me.”

  Her head then swiveled over her shoulder expectedly but no one had entered Jack’s room yet.

  “What is it?” Jack asked, sensing the anticipation in her body, in her eyes.

  “We saved you,” Zuma corrected, turning back to him.

  “We? You and Jaz?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Finley is here,” she said.

  “What?” His eyes narrowed suddenly. “That traitor. What’s he doing here?”

  Zuma took his hand back hoping to calm him. “Jack, he saved your life. Not me. Finley. He’s the one. The reason you’re here alive. He brought me to Knight’s compound but I was helpless to save you. If I’d been alone you’d be dead.” She stopped asthe memory of seeing Jack in the sunlit cell streaked through her vision. “It was Finley who carried you out of the compound. It’s Finley who saved you,” she said.

  “Finley?” Jack said and went to scratch his head, but stopped when he looked at his hand taped and restricted. “Why? Why would he save me?”

  “You know why,” Zuma said, giving him a look that was more meaningful than any explanation. It said, “He saved you for the same reason I would, because he cares about you.” The camaraderie between acrobats was hard for outsiders to understand. They often relied on each other, placing their lives literally in the other person’s hands. And so the bonds between them were unmatched for that reason.

  “Wow, after everything, Finley’s the reason I’m alive,” Jack said, his voice quiet. He didn’t remember much over the last few days, but he did remember the cold look of shame he’d given Finley when he last saw him. And then he went after Jack and rescued him. He risked his life to do so. He would have had to.

  “I know,” Zuma said. “It’s hard to process, and I’m not saying I forgive him entirely for what he did. It was wrong for him to not tell us about Sebastian. I get that. But Jack, I’ve been in Finley’s head and he’s entirely loyal to us now. He made a mistake, but he’s trying. He’s been trying from the beginning to make the right decision.”

  “But Dave…” Jack said, shaking his head.

  “I know. But there’s no one that’s more regretful that he died than Finley. He made an awful mistake for which I’m certain he hates himself more for that than the rest of us. Just give him a chance. He’ll be here in a minute,” she said and then added, “For me, please.”

  “Oh course,” Jack said and then blew out a breath and nodded slightly. “I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have gone after Knight. I shouldn’t have tried to avenge Dave’s death,” he said.

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Zuma agreed. “But what’s done is done and Ian seems to think there’s a good reason for this all.”

  “For what all?” Jack asked.

  She shrugged. “For Dave’s death. For you going to the compound. For the future this will create. I don’t know.” Zuma looked heavy about the words she’d spoken, but she masked it quickly behind an expression of hope. “We’ll learn more when we return to Vagabond Circus.”

  Jack tugged her hand closer to his chest. “God, I can’t wait to get out of here. I need to be back at the circus. I want to be with my people.”

  “I know,” Zuma said, thinking of the aftermath of Dave’s death and how it was weighing on everyone. She too longed to grieve with the members of Vagabond Circus. To comfort them. To relate her pain with them. “I’ll get you back home as soon as they release you.”

  “Thank you, Z. What would I do without you?” he said, a tender fondness sliding over his eyes.

  “Well, you’d have no one to call your parents, that’s for sure,” she said, trying to sound light, knowing the news would not be welcoming to Jack. When the look of disappointment sprung to his face she said, “I had to.”

  “I know,” he said with defeat.

  “I told them it was a circus accident,” she said.

  “Good thinking,” he said.

  “And I told them not to visit until you were ready for visitors,” Zuma said.

  “Gosh, you’re the best,” he said, pulling her into him.

  She slid her arms around his broad shoulders, hugging him into her. They both pulled apart at the sound of the door closing. Zuma kept her eyes on Jack as he slid his up to meet Finley’s. Relief filled her chest when her friend managed a smile.

  “Hi,” Jack said.

  “Hey,” Finley said, his voice quiet.

  “Zuma told me,” Jack said, extending his hand to Finley. “Thank you for saving my life.” And for Jack it was much easier to instantly forgive Finley than it would be for Zuma. Jack had actually kind of understood the other acrobat’s decisions from the beginning. As Finley had recounted his part of the story a couple of nights ago, Jack had realized how Finley had gone wrong. And he also realized how he might have done the same thing given the same decisions. Jack had been mad at Finley, but mostly as a scapegoat. And now looking at him, realizing what his fellow acrobat had endured to save him, all angry emotions were whisked away. Jack had always had a thoughtful affinity for the guy, as much as he’d tried to deny it, especially in the beginning. They had worked together for over three months. And only acrobats form such close bonds so quickly, based on the trust rituals surrounding their jobs.

  Zuma turned then to watch Finley close the distance and take Jack’s hand, a warm smile on his face.

  When Finley pulled his hand away he gave Zuma a look of annoyance which she found quite entertaining. “Actually it sounds like Zuma is exaggerating, yet again,” Finley said. “I dragged your ass a few feet. No biggie. I definitely didn’t save your life.”

  Zuma didn’t argue but did laugh. Twenty minutes. That’s how long Finley bore Jack’s weight on his shoulders as they negotiated the paths
out of the compound. And to her relief it was as empty on their exit.

  “Well, thanks still,” Jack said.

  “You’re welcome,” Finley said.

  “Okay,” Zuma said, standing from her place sitting on Jack’s bedside. “We’re going to let you rest. You can call—”

  Jack reached for her hand, a look of pure fear jumping to his features. “Don’t go,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. He pulled in a breath. “Would you stay? Please.” Then his gaze rotated to Finley. “Please,” he said again. And to Finley’s astonishment he realized he meant them both. Jack wanted both of them to stay with him.

  “I just don’t want to be alone,” Jack added. “After everything, I just want someone here with me.”

  “Of course,” Zuma said, squeezing his hand back. “But if you don’t mind I think I might sleep a bit.” She eyed the window to find a soft glow rimming around the curtain. The sun was rising and she hadn’t yet slept.

  “Yeah, me too,” Jack said, his eyes softening with relief. To have his friends by his side right then was the only thing he wanted. Then he eyed his legs stretched before him, which were wrapped in thick casts. Well, mostly all he wanted, he thought, trying and failing to wiggle a toe.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  The squeak of the nurse’s shoe on the linoleum was what awoke Jack. The late morning sun cast the shaded window in a strange blue glow.

  “I’m just here to check your vitals, sweetie,” the nurse with loose black curls said as Jack made to sit up but failed to complete the action.

  “You just stay like that. The anesthesia from the surgery is still in your system and I’m about give you another dose of morphine,” the nurse said.

  “Are you an angel?” Jack said with a wink. His voice sounded different in his head, hoarser.