“I like the name Joseph. Is that what you’d name him?”
Aimee laughed lightly.
“I don’t know yet. I think Zef would like it, but Tucker would never let us hear the end of it.”
Sara turned her pale eyes to mine.
“Oh! Your real name is Joseph?”
“No one calls me that,” I said gruffly. “Ever.”
“Oh . . .”
She blinked rapidly and wrapped her skinny arms around her long legs.
“Don’t be an ass,” Aimee said quietly as she glared at me.
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to tell her that the last person to call me by my full name (other than the judge who’d jailed my ass) had been my father before he died. Long time ago now—half a lifetime.
I left the party early and crawled into the small space behind the cab of the truck. After an hour of tossing and turning, I gave up and dragged my bedroll outside, cursing that I’d forgotten to pump up the air mattress.
I woke once in the night, only to find Bo curled up next to me.
Some guys get a hot blonde, I got a damned monkey.
Bo snuggled closer and patted my cheek with his leathery paw.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You, too.”
I woke up early, streaks of pink and orange painting the dawn sky. I sat up, stretching my arms and arching my back, pleased that everything seemed to be in working order. Then I realized that my dick was hard.
It was a good thing Bo had already left; I wouldn’t want to scar the little guy.
That’s one of those things about the carnival—there’s very little privacy. Even in a newer RV like Kes’s, you’d likely be sharing with four or five other people. You could only find privacy by getting inside your head instead. But right now, I’d have enjoyed rubbing one out in the shower.
I sighed, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. I’d just have to think of something unsexy like . . .
“Oh hey! Good morning, Zef.”
Sara stood in front of me wearing a pair of Aimee’s cut-off shorts that hung loosely on her thin body. She was holding a cup of coffee which she then placed carefully on the ground next to me.
I stared at the coffee cup then looked up at her, wondering if she realized that she was basically standing in my bedroom, a big carnie no-no. We were all very respectful of other people’s space, mainly because there was so little of it.
“Hi,” I said shortly, waiting for her to leave.
“Um, so you didn’t sleep in your truck?”
“Too hot.”
“Oh wow. I’m really so—”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay.”
She stood staring at a patch of earth a foot to my left.
“Something else I can help you with?” I asked, feeling my good mood slither away.
And I was usually so laidback and easy going. Yeah, right.
“Uh, Aimee said to tell you that breakfast is ready.”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t move.
“I brought your coffee.”
“Okay.”
“Aimee said you took it black.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Um, so, you want me to bring you some food or something?” she asked awkwardly.
“No, that’s fine.” I frowned, then added again, “Thank you.”
“So, maybe we could have breakfast together?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I could wait for you.”
“Jesus, Sara. I’m butt naked here!”
She flushed bright red, shot me an embarrassed glance and scuttled away.
Cursing under my breath, I pulled on my shorts and made a mental note not to sleep naked outside again.
At least my boner had vanished.
Five minutes later when I was sitting expectantly under the RV’s awning, Aimee threw me a furious look.
“What did you say to Sara? She was really upset when she came back.”
I crossed my arms, irritated.
“I told her that I’d come to breakfast as soon as I had some damn clothes on. She was standing over me while I was in my sleeping bag!”
Kes frowned at Aimee.
“She doesn’t know any better.”
“No, well, you didn’t have to be so mean,” Aimee huffed. “You upset her so much she’s been sick.”
A guilty feeling clawed at my belly but I ignored it.
“I was pretty fucking patient,” I said shortly.
“Dude, all this tension at breakfast, it’s not good!”
Tucker pretended to massage my shoulder muscles but I ducked out of his reach.
“Maybe she’s sick.”
“What?” Aimee scowled at me.
“Sara. Maybe she’s sick. You said she was throwing up.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” and she bustled off, knocking on the bathroom door and calling Sara’s name.
Kes raised his eyebrows and sighed.
“She’s been like that ever since her hormones started going crazy. It’s making her a little insane.”
Tucker laughed.
“Being knocked up with your spawn would make anyone insane.”
And then he sprinted away as Kes charged after him.
I enjoyed the silence while I ate my breakfast.
Eventually, Aimee sat down next to me, still scowling.
“She says she thinks it was something she ate at the barbeque last night.”
“Yeah? Anyone else get sick?”
Aimee frowned then shook her head.
“I don’t think so. I’m always really careful about cooking meat properly.”
“Maybe she’s pregnant, too,” I suggested, raising an eyebrow.
Aimee’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God! Do you think she is? Did she say something to you?”
“Nope, just sayin’.”
Aimee stared at me, an impressed look on her face. Then she frowned again.
“Do you think I should ask her?”
I shook my head.
“No. She’s already skittish and she’s only known us one day. If she thinks we’re interfering, she’ll be gone. And I don’t think she has anywhere to go.”
Aimee looked thoughtful.
“I think you’re right. You’ll just have to keep an eye on her.”
“Me?!”
“Oh, Zef,” she laughed quietly. “Don’t you know that she’s got the biggest crush on you? She couldn’t take her eyes off you all last night. And when I said I was going to take you a cup of coffee, she practically wrestled me out of the way so she could go do it herself.”
I blinked at her in disbelief.
“Fuck, Aimee! She’s eighteen! Eighteen! A freakin’ runaway!”
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “You said yourself that she’s got nowhere to go. Of course she’s going to latch onto the first kind person she meets. You gave up your room for her—she probably thinks you’re some sort of white knight. With tattoos.”
I was pretty certain I hadn’t been that nice to her . . .
“This is crazy. If she is having a kid, what about the father? Doesn’t he have a right to know what’s going on? And what about her parents? She may be eighteen, but it doesn’t mean that they’re not looking for her.”
“I know,” Aimee said quietly. “But that’s her choice, isn’t it? She must have her reasons. We have to trust that she’ll tell us what they are one day.”
I stared at her skeptically. Not everyone had Aimee’s chronic need to trust people.
“Just . . . be kind to her. Be her friend. She needs a friend. If she is pregnant, she’ll need all the help she can get.”
I rubbed the back of my neck tiredly.
“Jesus, Aimee. All the easy jobs!”
She laughed softly.
“Just be kind to her, Zef.”
Great. A teenage runaway, possibly pregnant, with a crush on me. And it was only 6AM.
>
I did as Aimee asked and kept an eye on Sara, making sure she didn’t spend too much time in the sun, making sure that she didn’t try to carry anything heavy. But I did it all from a distance, usually dispatching Zach or Luke with a message.
But at the same time, I noticed a lot of new things about her. For one, she stayed out of sight when there were townies around, preferring to hang with Zach and help with the permits paperwork, marketing and management he did for the Daredevils. It made me think that she was hiding, not wanting to be seen. She said she wasn’t running from the law, and I believed her; but she was hiding from someone.
And another strange thing; I saw her eyeing the carnie kids who were traveling with us as if they were an alien species. Almost as if they scared her. That seemed pretty odd behavior if she really was pregnant, and the complete opposite of how Aimee acted, a woman who obviously loved being around kids. I know that she helped home-school some of them and knew them well, but I didn’t think that was the whole story. If Sara didn’t like kids, why wasn’t she planning to get rid of it? Or maybe she was.
I was even more convinced that she was knocked up, because every morning I could hear her puking in the RV’s bathroom.
She’d taken to Zach and Luke, probably two of the quieter, calmer people around. She seemed to like Aimee, but they didn’t talk and giggle all of the time like when Aimee got together with Mirelle.
Thinking about Mirelle, I wondered what she would have made of Sara—you couldn’t get two women who were less alike. Mirelle was loud and happy and a helluva lot of fun to be around. She was friendly with everyone but protective of her friends, especially Aimee. She was also a flirt and loved to be the center of attention, but the woman had a big heart, too—big on family.
Sara was timid and shy, preferred to fade into the background, and never mentioned her family. I’d only heard her laugh once and she rarely initiated conversation with anyone. But she was also pretty smart. Zach said she had some mad computer skills and some really good ideas for marketing the Daredevils. One idea that Zach had taken on board immediately was finding out if KTM would sponsor us, since we all used their bikes.
She didn’t bring me coffee again, but I figured that Aimee may be right, because I definitely noticed her following me around like a puppy, watching me from a distance.
I could see that the kid needed a friend, but I wasn’t the man for the job, especially if she was developing feelings for me. Much better if she palled up with one of the other girls who traveled with the carnival. But she didn’t seem to get the message. I was forever looking over my shoulder and finding her trailing after me. The guys got a laugh out of razzing me on it, and it became harder and harder to ignore them. And her.
I ended up letting Tucker in on the plan. I know a lot of people thought of him as a loose-lipped clown, but that was just the face he liked to show to people. The man was deep water when you got to know him.
“That’s seriously fucked, bro,” he said quietly. “You really think she’s knocked up?”
“I don’t know, but she’s sick every morning, and she said the smell of Oreos turns her stomach. Who the hell doesn’t like Oreos?”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“Then . . . shouldn’t she see a doctor or something?”
“Yeah, she should. Zach and Aimee have been looking into putting her on the company health insurance. She shouldn’t have to rely on Medicaid. After all, she is working here.”
That was a loose description for the cooking and bit of light cleaning that Sara was doing. Zach was reluctant to give her a job where she’d interact with the public because he hadn’t done a criminal background check on her. Not sure that meant a lot when a jailbird carnie like me was selling programs before a show and signing them after. Even still . . .
And the jobs where she didn’t have to meet people all required muscle—something she definitely didn’t have, even if she wasn’t having a kid.
I shook my head.
“But first she’d have to admit that she’s knocked up. So, bearing in mind that we’re not supposed to suspect and we don’t know for sure . . .”
“Shit,” Tucker shook his head. “So . . . we just wait and look out for her?”
“Pretty much.”
“I’ll talk to Tera. She might have some ideas. Is Sara coming with us to Pomona?”
I sighed, running my fingers through my hair.
“I don’t know.”
Tucker leveled his gaze at me.
“She’d come if you asked her to.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.”
He stood up and patted me on the shoulder.
“You’ll do the right thing, bro.”
“Sure.”
Now if someone could just tell me what the hell that was.
Two days later, I was out of options, because Sara fainted, right after watching our show.
She’d been sitting in the first row of the bleachers, as she always did, then followed us out of the arena toward the back lot.
It was another scorcher, and sweat was pouring off of me when I pulled the bike up next to the rig.
Sara smiled a lopsided sort of smile as I climbed off my KTM 350, then turned white as paper and slipped to the ground.
I caught her before she slammed her head against the concrete.
“Shit! Sara!”
Tucker rushed over with some water and used one of my old t-shirts to pat it onto her face.
Kestrel raced across with Aimee trailing behind him on foot.
“I’ll call a doctor,” she panted.
Sara’s eyelids fluttered.
“No. No doctor,” she whispered.
“Everyone step back, give her some room,” I ordered.
Tucker quietly handed me the bottle of water and I held it to her lips.
“Drink.”
She held it with a shaking hand and took a few small sips.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. “I feel much better now.”
Ignoring her gasp of surprise, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her back to the RV, setting her on the bed.
I couldn’t help raising my eyebrows—I barely recognized the place. In such a short period of time, she’d decorated it with picture postcards from the carnival, two stuffed toys that I recognized from the fishing game, and a bunch of cushions and ribbons and girly shit, probably given to her by the other carnies. The quilt was covered with something pink and flowery, and she’d pinned colorful scarves over the window. The room looked more like Madam Sylva’s fortune-telling tent than my old crib.
Sara was propped against the pillows, staring at her hands folded in her lap.
“I’m fine now. Thank you, Zef.”
“You and me are going to have a talk,” I informed her. “And then you’re going to see a doctor.”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I don’t need a doctor. I feel fi—”
“Yeah, because people who are fine just faint all over the place. Are you knock—are you pregnant?”
The girl looked terrified.
“How . . . how did you know?”
Really? How naïve was this kid?
“Lucky guess,” I said dryly.
She nodded, two tears tracking down her pale cheeks.
“Please don’t send me away! I won’t be any trouble, I promise!”
I seriously doubted that, but I couldn’t bear the painful desperation on her face either.
“We’re not sending you away.”
“Promise?”
Mentally, I kicked myself for going anywhere near there.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I promise.”
Even as I spoke, I knew that it was a bad idea, and somehow this was all going to come back and bite me in the ass. But she looked so lonely, so hopeless. I knew what that felt like.
And I wondered if she had any idea how tough things were going to be for her. She seemed pretty clueless so far.
“Do you want
to keep it?” I asked, trying to make my voice gentle.
She nodded again and looked up.
“I . . . I think so.”
Her pale blue eyes were glossy with tears and pink-rimmed. Her nose had turned red, too, and her skin was blotchy. She was a real mess.
“Well, if you want to keep it, you need to take better care of yourself. Stay out of the sun when it’s this hot, drink plenty of water and, um, eat right. I’ll get Aimee to fix you up with one of those baby doctors, okay?”
“I can’t afford . . .”
“Kes has put you on our insurance plan. It’s all taken care of.”
Her pink lips popped open, and then she flung her arms around my neck, sobbing her young heart out.
I patted her back awkwardly, embarrassed that I noticed she was crushing her breasts against my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aimee watching from the doorway, and I mouthed, Help me!
She gave me a small smile then tapped lightly on the door and walked inside to sit on a corner of the bed.
“Zef’s right,” she said quietly. “We’ll take care of you. You’re going to be okay.”
That set off a fresh wave of sobbing. I tried to pass her over to Aimee, but Sara clung to my neck like a spider monkey. I was afraid I might hurt her if I tried to peel her off.
Aimee gave me a bemused look, then left the room, closing the door behind her.
Traitor.
Eventually, Sara’s crying had slowed to a few loud sniffs, then she unclamped her arms from my neck and wiped her eyes with her fingers. Silently, I watched as she composed herself.
Feeling like there was nothing more I could do, I stood up.
Her eyes followed me and her lips turned down.
“Take the rest of the day off,” I ordered, folding my arms across my chest. “No more chores today. And tomorrow you’re seeing a doctor. No arguments.”
She swallowed and gave a small nod.
“No arguments,” I repeated.
I’d already opened the door and stepped through it when I heard her soft voice behind me.
“Thank you, Zef.”
“You’re welcome,” I said gruffly, closing the door behind me.
I needed to change out of my leathers and take a shower. After doing a show in 95oF, I probably stank like a goat. But everyone was waiting for me in the living area.
“How is she?” asked Aimee.
Carnival (The Traveling Series #4) Page 5
