by Jaden Wilkes
He smiled and said, “It’s not that bad. Oh, I’m sure dear old Orry will come up with something spectacular. If there’s one thing that man does well, it’s exploit his performers.”
“That sounds rather ominous,” I said.
“Kidding, you know I’m overly dramatic,” he laughed and brushed it off. I couldn’t shake the warning in his words though, but he changed the subject smoothly and went on to tell me about a few of the logistics of setting up the Cirque. I was interested, and thought about following him back out to alleviate some of my boredom, but decided against it.
For some reason I felt as though when Orion gave an order, he expected nothing less than complete compliance. I didn’t want to test my suspicion and find out first hand if he was easily brought to anger.
A little after six, Cara texted to meet up with her and Rose for dinner. I’d spent the day dozing in the trailer, only interrupted when somebody was checking up on me at Orion’s orders so I was bored and ready to do anything. I agreed to meet them in a few minutes.
Before leaving, I peeled the bandage off. My arm wasn’t throbbing at all, and as predicted, the puncture wounds had already begun to heal. They’d scabbed over and were dry.
Orion’s knife cut however hadn’t stopped leaking blood. It was strange, generally the finer cuts and injuries healed faster. It felt almost as though his toxicity remained on my skin, a reminder of his plans for me, a warning to stay away from his son.
I found my friends sitting at a table in the cafeteria tent, grabbed a sandwich and a hot chocolate, and sat down with them.
“Shit, you lucked out today,” Cara said immediately. “It was miserable, rainy and cold. And we’re back in Marymoor Park, which is essentially the middle of nowhere. We’re stuck in Cirque even more than ever.”
“I don’t feel like I lucked out,” I said. “To be honest I’d rather not be under Orion’s scrutiny.”
“She’s got you there,” Rose said, “I’d rather do pretty much anything than have Orion watching you.” She turned to me and asked, “What exactly does he have in mind for you?” She had already found out, Carl was right, word traveled fast in the Cirque.
“I have no idea,” I said, “I was bitten and he found something out. He got excited and said he was promoting me to performer status.”
“Oh, wow,” Cara replied, “That’s amazing. Performer! What are you going to do?”
“No idea,” I said.
“What’s your talent?” Rose asked.
“Um, it’s kind of a weird one,” I replied.
“Do you have a tail?” Rose asked, leaning forward in excitement.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I replied and laughed, “No, I do not have a tail. I can’t feel any pain.”
Both girls looked at me, confused. “What do you mean no pain?” Cara asked.
“No pain. Nothing hurts,” I said. “It’s a disorder, congenital analgesia.”
“That is awesome,” Cara said.
“Fucking epic. That’s like the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Rose agreed.
“It’s not as great as you’d think,” I said. “For example, something like dinner. This sandwich here. I take a bite, I might be chewing on my own tongue and not notice it until the blood comes pouring out of my face. I might bite my cheek while I’m sleeping and wake up choking on it. I might break a foot and walk around for a week, doing damage that’s irreversible. It sucks actually, if you want to know how epic it is.”
I hated that my little speech sounded so bitter, but it was the cold, hard truth. There was nothing glamorous about feeling nothing.
“I’m sorry,” Cara said, “I never would have thought about it that way.”
“Me too,” Rose added, “I promise if I ever see you with a mouth full of blood, I’ll tell you discretely.” She smiled and held out her hand. I shook it and relaxed. I had to remember that in a circus full of freaks and oddities, I really wasn’t that shocking.
It felt nice.
I was chewing away, carefully avoiding my own tongue and listening to Cara and Rose argue over which of the new acrobats was the hottest when a shadow fell across me. I looked up and saw Cairo staring down at me, an unreadable mask on his face.
“Hey you,” I said and smiled at him. He didn’t smile back.
“We need to talk,” he said in a low voice.
“Sure, what’s up?” I said and put my sandwich down.
“Not here, follow me,” he ordered and I jumped up and trailed behind him as we passed through tables of performers and front end staff. I looked back and shrugged my shoulders at Rose and Cara’s inquiring faces.
We ended up behind the concession tent in a dimly lit impromptu alleyway formed by several trailers and storage containers.
“Why didn’t you tell me,” Cairo said, his voice a hiss of accusation.
“Tell you what?” I asked, but knew immediately what he must be referring to.
“I had to find out from my father. My fucking father. You’re a performer?”
“I’m not a performer, I mean I’ve never done anything in front of an audience.”
“Then why is he featuring you next week?”
“Next week? That seems awfully soon,” I replied. I fidgeted and forced myself to remain calm while thinking about the crowds of people who would be staring at me soon enough.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t”
“Then what’s your talent?”
“I don’t have a tail, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I said and smiled, hoping to lighten his dark aspect.
“This is no joke, Liv,” he replied. His voice was just as tense as before, but he seemed to be losing steam in the anger department. I loved his voice, and I loved how protective he seemed right now. Normally this kind of behaviour from anyone would have me demanding they back the fuck off and give me space.
Cai was different.
“I know it’s not a joke. I think it’s terrifying. And my talent, if that’s what you can call it, is that I feel no pain.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. He almost sounded hurt.
“You never asked. And I kinda liked being Miss Normal for a while, after a lifetime of being abnormal.”
“I can understand that,” he replied and exhaled. The tension left his face completely and he softened, smiled, and said, “You’re still Miss Normal to me, for what it’s worth.”
My heart did its usual little flip flop at his beautiful smile and I said, “Aren’t you going to barrage me with questions about it?”
“I know a little about it from med school,” he said. “Congenital analgesia? Pain insensitivity?”
“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” I replied with a grin and gave him a thumbs up.
“It’s pretty serious though, are you okay? Are you healthy?”
“Well, other than being bitten by a tiger yesterday, I’m doing pretty damn good,” I said.
“Alexi’s tiger bit you? Which one? Desi?”
“No, Lucille.”
“What the fuck were you doing with Lucille?”
“You father sent me to help Alexi pack up, and Alexi left me with her. It was one hundred percent my fault though, I took a stupid pic and the flash scared her.”
“Lucille’s dangerous, you should have never been left with her,” he said. He was angry again, but this time his face was distant, he was rolling an idea over in his mind.
“It was just an accident. But that’s how your father found out about my disorder.”
“Talent,” he said, “we call it talent around here.”
“I’ve noticed, but really it’s no talent. It’s a genetic anomaly.”
“You are not an anomaly,” he said and cupped my face in his large, rough hands. These were the hands of a man who wasn’t afraid of hard work, the hands of the type of man my mother had always said to marry. She always told me if a man wasn’t afraid to work ha
rd, I’d never be neglected. His voice was deep and intense when he said, “You are beautiful, mysterious, a little bit skittish...but not an anomaly. Never say that.”
“I don’t mean it in a negative way, it just is what it is,” I replied, unable to tear my eyes away from his. My own eyes were green, a stark contrast to my pale skin and dark hair. His were deep, rich warm brown and at the moment they seemed endless. A portal to a secret world, his internal world, I wanted to go there.
“It’s a negative word,” he said and leaned over me, not breaking eye contact. “You don’t deserve anything but goodness and light in your life, Liv. Never sell yourself short.”
The power with which he said it left my breathing shallow and my pulse rapid. I could feel his intent behind those words, his kindness and force. “Okay,” was all I could say.
And then he kissed me.
I had almost been expecting it when he leaned over me, but it still took me by surprise. He pulled me close with one hand behind my back, under my thick, long hair and the other still cupped my face.
His beard tickled. It really tickled, but it rubbed my skin and woke up sensations I’d not felt before.
His lips were exactly as delicious as I’d imagined. He tasted of coffee and mint, they were thick and soft, pliable and forceful at the same time.
His tongue was demanding, pinning mine down, claiming my mouth as its territory and demanding I submit.
I would have fought such entitlement with previous boyfriends, flings and one night stands. I would have taken affront to such presumption, that I was that kind of girl. I never had been, I would have wrestled their tongue with my own, pushed their hands down under mine, and become the aggressor to put them in their place.
With Cairo, I was exactly that kind of girl. The kind who held onto his strong forearms for dear life to prevent myself from toppling over on trembling knees.
The kind who was breathless in anticipation, awaiting his next move, his next command. The kind who did submit to him, to everything about him. My body was his, and every cell in it tingled and felt perfectly aligned to his.
I felt it.
He was so much a man that any trace of my tomboy nature was chased out the window, and in its wake was a weak, breathless, giddy girl.
I couldn’t help myself, I moaned. My body was warm from my deep center, radiating out in waves of goodness. His scent was intoxicating, musky and deep, sweat and hard work and masculinity.
He was all man, and he was invading my every sense.
I couldn’t feel pain, but I could feel him, and good god, I wanted more.
Chapter Eight
The day after the kiss was a fog for me. We’d pulled apart when Rose came looking for me. My cheeks had been flushed red and I’d stuttered an excuse to Rose and Cara and feigned illness to rush back to our trailer and go to bed.
Of course I hadn’t been ill, but I’d lain under my covers and replayed the kiss over and over in my head until I’d fallen asleep.
I was able to stay in bed a little too long and had killed time trying to find any information I could about Cairo. I wasn’t able to find much, I wasn’t even sure if he shared his father’s last name, Rojas. I did find some information about his return to the circus on a website devoted to circus news. Strange that there was such a thing, I never would have imagined it.
There was a knock at the door just after I finished my shower. I yelled, “Hang on,” and pulled on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I opened the door and found Orion standing there.
“I would like to go over your routine,” he said, “follow me now.”
I scrambled to slip on my shoes and ran after him. He was the kind of man you didn’t say no to. At least not directly to his face, in regards to Cairo, I would tell him no a million times over.
It was disconcerting to me, the tents were all arranged in much the same was as they had been in Vancouver, but everything was just slightly off. Orion was fast, his strides lengthy. I had a hard time keeping up with him and was relieved when he stopped at the performers tent.
He swept open the door flap and strode up to the stage. “Everyone leave,” he announced. People rushed away, picking up their equipment and costumes as they exited. They glanced at me as they passed, a mixture of curiosity and confusion on their faces.
I stood facing Orion in the center of the stage and waited for him to speak.
He looked me up and down and I was sure he found me lacking. His expression was unreadable, but he exhaled a sigh full of impatient disgust.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, my defiant streak kicking in.
“I’m going to use you in my act. You will be outfitted with a costume and have a medic on standby in case of serious injury.”
“What is your act?”
“I throw knives,” he said slowly and stretched his mouth into the semblance of a smile. He tore off his jacket and revealed a double knife belt, knives of several different varieties tucked along them.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said under my breath. Of all the things he could want to do with me, knives were the one thing I truly hated. Knives represented danger to me from day one. Knives represented stabbing and cutting and accidents beyond count, rending limbs and slicing off fingers. Every fear I’d tucked away since my childhood came rising to the surface and I backed away from him. “No way,” I said, “I can’t do it.”
“Stop,” he replied in a low forceful voice. I obeyed. I hated that I obeyed, but he had that power over people. From his own son and second in command, all the way down the food chain at Cirque, people jumped when Orion commanded it.
I held up my arms, with the bandage and myriad of scars and puckered flesh from wounds long past. “Knives and I don’t mix,” I said, “I can’t risk it. I won’t feel it if you hit anything.”
“That’s the point,” he said and slowly withdrew the longest knife from the bottom of the belt. The sound of metal on leather was like a snake on sand. A dry hiss of warning and it set my nerves on edge.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I want to cut you, for the show,” he said and crossed the stage between us in three long strides. “I want to hit you at some point, to get the crowd on the edge of their seats. I want to make you bleed.”
“That’s not a show, that’s sick,” I said and shook my head, my thick waterfall of hair falling around my face like a defiant horse’s mane.
“The way I see it, you don’t have much choice,” Orion told me, his face close to mine now. He smelled similar to Cai, as if they used the same soap, but on Orion the musky scent of masculinity was menacing. Where Cai would take me and fuck me like a man, Orion might tear me apart like a feral dog. I reached up and rubbed the spot where he’d cut me before, a reminder of what he represented.
“I can leave,” I replied, keeping my voice calm but the tremble in it belied my fear.
“Where will you go?” he asked. “You have no money, no reason to be in the US and no passport. You might have forgotten that you deposited your passport with HR for safekeeping but I haven’t.”
“I don’t need a passport or a reason to be here,” I replied, “I’ll go back to Canada.”
“You’re here illegally for all they know,” he said. “You’ll be taken into custody the moment you hit the border.”
“It isn’t like we’re in the Middle East, I’ll tell them what happened.”
“And I’ll deny you ever gave us your passport. Or I’ll tell them we fired you for drug use. Your choice.”
“I’ll talk to Cairo about this,” I said, scrambling at life preservers.
“He won’t defy me,” Orion said, “I’m the master of this pack and my son understands the natural order of things around here.”
“You fucking bastard,” I said and felt hot tears sting the back of my eyes. “I’ll go back to selling tickets.”
“I won’t let you,” Orion said. “I need you for this.” His face was calm,
but his eyes revealed a madness, a singular determination to get exactly what he wanted.
And right now, he wanted me.
“Can I think about it?” I asked. “Please give me a day?”
“You can think all you want, but meet me here tomorrow morning at ten. We will begin rehearsals and you will need to be ready in four days. We’re going live on Friday night.”
“Okay,” I replied and turned to leave.
“Olivia,” he said. I stopped and looked back at him. “Enjoy yourself tonight, we’re having a bit of a celebration.”
I nodded and said, “Thanks.”
“But stay away from my son.”
“I hadn’t planned on going anywhere near him.”
“I think we both know that’s a lie. I’m warning you now, that he’s not for you. I will not fight you for control of him, it will only anger me and you will lose.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I did what I could to maintain my dignity, turned and walked away.
*****
“I can’t believe you’re going to be part of Orion’s performance,” Rose said. “That’s so scary and amazing.”
We were getting ready for the Cirque staff event. Every time the Cirque made it to a new city and set up, the night before opening was reserved for relaxation and fun. I thought we all could use a little of both.
“I’m more scared than amazed though,” I replied and leaned in to apply my mascara. I rarely wore makeup but was making an effort tonight. Being surrounded by showgirls and glamourous performers made one want to step up one’s game.
So I told myself. I also wanted to prove to Cairo that I wasn’t all tomboy. As much as I had protested and claimed I was, I had a compulsion for him to see my feminine side.
I even borrowed a dress from Cara, a red sequined thing that apparently made my dark hair and eyes pop according to both of them.
I sat back and assessed myself in the mirror and was actually pleased with the results. I knew I was an attractive girl, I knew it because of the way people treated me and responded to my presence. I just never felt attractive and there was a difference.
