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Jessup Smith.
A holdout from the old crew, pissy because his job was getting phased out.
“He’s mad because he’s being let go after next month,” I said. “I had a talk with him this morning about it, and he wasn’t happy.”
Keene sighed. “That doesn’t excuse the fact that he didn’t listen and could’ve fuckin’ killed you. I talked to the others about a safety net, and we’ve come to the conclusion that this whole danger we put ourselves into on a weekly basis isn’t something that’s necessary any longer.”
“You mean, you talked to Coffey and Slone who had problems with Tony and Simi going up into the air without some sort of safety net to keep them from falling and getting permanently harmed.”
“Yes,” he answered, sounding amused. “You don’t agree?”
“I’ve agreed that the old ways are done,” I pointed out. “Multiple times.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Agreed.”
I blew out a breath, and finally pulled myself away from him. “I think I’ll live.”
He squeezed my shoulder, then pulled me up into his arms.
He hugged me tight for a long time before saying, “Did you invite Mr. Glare?”
Mr. Glare.
What a great name for him.
“No,” I said. “Maybe he’s coming to admire his handiwork.”
In the two weeks since I’d been avoiding him, he and Keene had cleaned house.
There wasn’t a single person left who had in any way, shape, or form been a part of the criminal acts of my father’s dynasty.
Now, only fresh, new, very upstanding people remained.
“Doubtful,” he said. “He could’ve done that earlier when I paid him.”
“You paid him?” I asked in surprise.
“He didn’t want me to,” he said. “But I donated a large portion of the proceeds over some royalties we’d gotten last year. He can use it to fund his other business since he helped us so much.”
“Hmm,” I mused.
It was funny, but I felt like I was paying him for killing my mom.
Did that make me a contract killer?
Not that I had full confirmation that he’d killed my mom, of course.
But I suspected.
Again, I should probably be more upset, but I couldn’t be. Not when she’d been complicit in the harming of children.
I would never be okay with that, and I wouldn’t live with her actions on my conscience.
“Can you get down?” he asked.
I didn’t answer, instead showing him that I could as I climbed down the ladder that would lead to backstage.
Hades was waiting for me when I got to the bottom.
I’d barely taken two steps off the ladder when she launched herself at me. “Holy fuck, I thought you were going to fall!”
I squeezed her back, still unused to this sister she now was for us. For so long, Hades had been so withdrawn from us. Always fighting, fighting, fighting some invisible force that only she could see. Sure, there’d been good times. But not like there were now.
But then we’d learned why she’d been so…broken. And I couldn’t say that I blamed her for how she chose to handle that trauma.
But this affectionate, kind, caring person was someone I loved.
Sure, I loved the crotchety, always in a perpetual bad mood, angry one.
I now loved this side of her, too.
It was fun to see and experience.
Especially when her man walked up and glared at me. “You okay?”
I nodded at Hannibal.
“I took care of the fucker,” he said.
My brows rose. “How?”
“I told him he could see himself out the door or I’d make sure he couldn’t walk out of here,” he answered.
Snickering, I patted him on the shoulder, then walked to the plastic bench that was right off the stage center.
“That was fan-fuckin-tastic,” Simi said, a baby strapped to her chest. “We’re supposed to trust these people with our lives, dammit! This is why I want safety nets!”
I giggled. “Keene already said they’re coming. I imagine they’ll be here before our first show, now.”
Simi glared at me. Then broke out into a relieved laugh.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
I nodded at her.
“Good,” she said as she turned around. “Come eat. Coffey is here tonight cooking for the show.”
When we’d moved to Dallas and our permanent location, Coffey’s job as the camp chef had sort of become obsolete. But that didn’t stop him for long.
Between our choosing to make the circus a permanent place, and us landing in Dallas, he’d already started working on a food truck that he planned on parking outside of the circus. Though, he did make sure to make it possible for all kinds of other food trucks to be available, too.
I stayed where I was, still a bit shaky on my legs.
“I’m here!” Val said as she hurried into the room in scrubs and a white coat.
I grinned. “You look so cute, Val.”
Val rolled her eyes as she ripped off the coat and threw it to the side.
Band-Aids, syringes filled with saline she called flushes, and IV paraphernalia spilled out onto the floor.
