by Sarah Noffke
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.
“Furthest thing from it,” the nurse said. “All my drugged patients think so though.”
Jack smiled, pressing back into his pillow as the nurse emptied a vial into his IV.
“Well, isn’t that the sweetest thing though,” she said, her eyes cast on the far side of the room. The crow’s feet deepened as she smiled.
Jack turned in the direction of her gaze to find Zuma with her arms wrapped around Finley’s abdomen. And his
arms around her. Her head nestled on his shoulder.
He turned his eyes back on the woman. “How much morphine did you give me? I’m seeing hallucinations,” Jack said.
She howled with sudden laughter. “Oh, honey, you’re my new favorite patient.”
The nurse’s laughter made Zuma blink awake. Finley pulled his head up from its resting place.
Jack turned to the couple, ready to take a little mock hostility out on them. In truth, Jack almost liked the sight of them together. Since the beginning he’d been relieved that someone actually had an effect on Zuma, the girl of stone. He had always wished it would have been him. But it wasn’t. And then Jack had kissed Zuma on the night of Dave’s death and to his astonishment he’d felt nothing. He always pictured that one event would shatter realms all over magical galaxies, but it didn’t. He wasn’t meant for Zuma and it was actually a relief. He was certain he didn’t know how to make her happy and would die trying. But Finley…he somehow made sense with Zuma. And whereas before that would have made him angry, now it filled Jack with hope. If Zuma, the unlovable girl, could find love, then Jack could find his own miracle.
“So… looks like the rescue trip built some bridges between you two,” Jack said, a scowl on his face, but a lightness in his voice.
The nurse chuckled again and took her leave.
“Uhhh…” Finley said, sitting up a bit but keeping his one arm around Zuma. “Yeah, if you wouldn’t have run off and almost got yourself killed I never would have had the opportunity to earn Zuma’s sympathies. Thanks, buddy.”
“No problem,” Jack grumbled.
Zuma pushed up away from Finley, giving him an irritated look.
“Is that what you think this is?” she said, motioning between her and Finley. “You think this is sympathy? Because you grew up in a warehouse with a mercenary?” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You’re ridiculous,” she said and then added, “And dead wrong.”
“You always think I’m wrong,” Finley said, sounding amused.
“You are always wrong,” she said, matching his playful tone. And then she drew her eyes over to Jack. “And yes.” She motioned between her and Finley. “This just kind of happened.”
“Just kind of happened?” Finley said with a huff. “You mean after I repeatedly professed my undying love for you? Is that what you mean by ‘kind of happened’?”
“Oh, stop making it all sound romantic,” she said, giving Finley a sideways look.
He held his hands up in surrender. “Just stating the facts.”
Jack laughed, and although the noise actually sounded more like a cat hacking up a hairball it was in fact a laugh. “Well, you two are adorably revolting,” he said.
“Thanks,” Zuma said. “And I totally agree.” She then sat back and nestled herself in Finley’s arms. It felt so right to her, zero hesitation.
“But what are you going to do when we get back to Vagabond Circus? I suspect Titus will maintain the rules,” Jack said.
“I’ll quit,” Finley said at once.
Zuma shot around and regarded him like he’d said something in a made up language. “What? You can’t do that!”
“Well, you have any better ideas?” Finley asked.
“Our act though?” Zuma said.
He nodded, having thought through the dilemma. Their act had been the saving grace to Vagabond Circus, ensuring its doors would stay open and it would grow with wealth. “Let’s figure that out later.” Finley then turned his sharp greenish eyes on Jack. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like I’m floating,” Jack said.
Zuma smiled. “Sounds like good drugs.”
“Yeah, and it’s even better because I’ve sorely missed the flying trapeze,” Jack said.
“Me too,” Finley and Zuma said in unison and then flashed each other smiles.
The door to Jack’s room then swung open again and a woman with rich golden hair cut into a neat bob rushed through, followed by two men. “Oh, darling Jack, what have you done to yourself?” the woman said, her Georgia, southern accent making her words draw out.
“Mom?” Jack said and again attempted to sit up and failed. “What are you doing here?”
Zuma stood at once. “Mrs. Fuller, I said I’d call you when Jack was ready for visitors.”
“Oh, I got tired of waiting,” she said, dismissing Zuma with a wave of her well-manicured hand. She wore a purple pant suit and a look of entitlement. “Good to see you, dear,” she said, planting a light kiss on either side of Zuma’s cheeks before turning to Jack. “And you,” she said to Jack, her voice shifting. “What have you done to yourself?” she repeated, her red lips pursing.
“Good to see you too, Mom,” Jack said and then angled his head at the older and younger men behind her. “Hi, Dad. Hi, Keith.”
“Hello, Jack,” his father said. He had Jack’s same brown hair but his was not highlighted with blond. He wore his wire-rimmed glasses up high on his skinny nose.
“How are you feeling, Jack?” his brother said, picking up the chart held at the base of Jack’s bed and flipping through it.
“You’re the doctor holding my chart, so why don’t you tell everyone,” Jack said, sounding contemptuous.
Dr. Fuller had three medical degrees and actually worked in a different hospital, but he’d made the trek to this side of the city at his parents’ request. Keith scrutinized the chart and then slapped it shut.
“Well, he’ll live,” he informed his parents.
“Good, good,” his father said like he’d just heard the score for a tennis match.
“Now tell me what happened,” his mother said.
“He fell during a practice,” Zuma said at once. “Just like I told you,” and she drew out the word, taking the position in front of Jack’s bed. “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“I just knew you’d get yourself in trouble one day with those damned circus stunts,” Mrs. Fuller said, her hands on her hip.
“Mom,” Jack said.
“It’s true,” she said, shaking her head, her hair not swaying with the movement, all perfectly sprayed into place. “If you had a normal job like, like your brothers Keith or Jason or Ryan then this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Right.” Jack chomped on the word.
Keith was the chief of staff for the largest hospital in LA County. Jason was a rocket scientist for NASA. Ryan was the highest paid supermodel in the world. Normal jobs.
Finley, feeling like his presence was unnecessary, decided to try to make an exit. And also the more he watched of this family reunion the more he considered that not having a family had perks.
“Zuma, I’m going to go grab us some water,” he said quietly, standing and making for the exit using a fraction of his super speed to avoid questions from Jack’s family.
“Who was that?” his mother said when Finley had dashed for the exit.
“He’s a friend,” Zuma said, tossing her hand through her hair and trying to figure out how to get Jack’s family to leave.
Keith stepped forward. Dressed in a pin-striped suit, he was taller than Jack, his shoulders a bit wider, but he had the same brown and blond hair as his brother. All the Fuller boys had that hair, a mix of both of their parents. Keith said to Zuma, “Hello Zuma. It’s been too long,” he said, offering her his hand.
She wrung it lightly, her eyes to the side. “Has it?” Zuma said in a disinterested voice.
“It has and may I be bold enough to inform you that you’re more beautiful than I remember,” Keith said.
“I haven’t showered in two days,” she said dryly.
“Well, then I can only imagine how stunning you’d be fixed up,” Keith said, pushing a bit of errant hair off her shoulders.
“You might be disappointed, then,” Zuma said. Her face grew red with anger. How was Keith’s attention not on his brother right then? His mother not doting on her bedridden son? His father not more present?
“How about you give me the honor of taking you on a date so I can find out for myself how you look fixed up?” Keith said, a look of pure confidence in his eyes.
“Oh, I would but my fiancé might get jealous,” Zuma said.
“Really?” he said with a disappointed sigh. “Who’s the lucky guy who won your affection?” Keith asked.
“Your brother Jack, of course,” she said, sitting on his bed side and kissing his cheek. Zuma felt Jack tense beside her.
Just go with it, she said in his head over the link.
She could have sworn she heard a laugh in his head, or something like it.
No worries. I’m totally going with it, Jack said silently. And then Zuma felt his arms pull around her, his chin on her shoulder.
His brother eyed the two, doing a poor job of showing his envy. Instead of congratulations Keith said, “Where’s the ring?”
“It’s too big and heavy so Jack is having an everyday one made,” Zuma said.
Jack smiled at her, enjoying the look of awe on his brother’s face. Keith had been asking Zuma out for the last three years. It felt good to finally have something his older brother wanted and couldn’t have. He pulled his arms around her waist and tugged her closer to him.
“Yes, I’m a very lucky man,” Jack said, and then kissed her cheek, lingering a bit too long, Zuma thought.
