Page 150 of Circus From Hell

“You’re acting like one,” he retorts, walking to the exit of Kreo’s evil tent.

Karma quickly jumps onto Soren’s back, and he laughs, opening his arms to offer me transport. I’m not sure how we all fell into this routine—Spiral and I the subs, Soren and Micha the doms, and Karma shifting between whatever suits her—but it works.

It’s silent as we retreat through the burnt show tent, passing the charred, dead bodies. Karma purposefully glares down Kreo’s corpse.

It’s dark outside, and a distant sense of doom makes my stomach drop.

“You okay, Blondie?” Soren asks as he walks me across the field to where Micha parked the car.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say, because whatever this feeling of dread is, it’s internal. Nothing is amiss—aside from the crumbled circus and the corpses we’re leaving behind.

Micha lets Spiral into the boot of the car. The clown immediately curls up into a ball, eyes fluttering shut. The snoring starts moments later. Makes sense; he died and came back to life today.

Soren places me beside Karma in the back seat, and I have to show her how a seatbelt works, but it’s probably pointless. I have serious doubts that she can die.

“Look who stopped by.” Soren smiles as he holds his hand through the door. Snake jumps onto my lap and scurries over to Karma.

“You came!” She picks him up and nuzzles him against her cheek. They stick their tongues out and hiss at each other, something that used to really freak Micha out. It’s crazy how far we’ve come as a group in such a short time.

“Do you need me to fetch you anything from your tent?” he asks her, and she looks down at her naked body.

“My black jumpsuits. Not the colourful ones.”

“Crap. We need to change this tyre,” Micha grumbles from the front of the car.

“Soren, help Micha. I’ll get Karma’s jumpsuits,” I say quickly, jumping from the car and running across the field.

Stepping into her tent feels like a mindfuck. We won’t have any more sex in here. We won’t be back here. And that’s a good thing.

Her jumpsuits are in a small box beside her vanity. There’s nothing else in here that’s personal to her, except for a small photo. A Polaroid stuck to the side of her mirror.

Kreo’s white eyes stare at the camera, but his smile only looks half genuine. Karma’s lips are pulled up, and she’s wearing a bright yellow and blue jumpsuit, something that looks so off on her. She doesn’t like wearing bright colours.

She won’t be forced to wear or do whatever he wants for the rest of her life.

I do secretly hope she keeps the green and pink hair, though. I like it.

I quickly rip the picture in half and make my way out of the tent with four jumpsuits. I’m surprised she has any left after the amount that was destroyed during sex.

As I pass the trailer that once caged Soren, a quiet bang makes me jump and stop in my tracks. I look at the white edge of the vehicle, waiting for another noise to come.

But it doesn’t.

My spine tingles, that uncomfortable notion in my stomach returning.

There’s nothing there.

I rush back to the car as Soren slips into the passenger seat. Micha’s leaning against the bonnet, arms folded and waiting for me.

“You okay?” he asks when he sees my pallid skin.

“Yeah,” I rasp. I shake my head to fight off that fear and focus on the now. “We ready?”

“Yep. Hop in.”

He smacks my ass as I pass, laughing when I narrow my eyes on him and slide into the backseat, throwing the jumpsuits into the boot behind me. They land on Spiral’s sleeping body, but he doesn’t shift.

“I can’t believe we’re really leaving,” Karma whispers, her hands fiddling in her lap.