In Place of Never

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  Was I making him nervous?

  Cross glanced at his shoes. His gaze bounced back to me. “Why did you agree to come?”

  There was no right answer, so I turned toward the sidewalk with a shrug. My muscles itched to move. “Lead the way.”

  Cross kept his distance, staying a half step ahead. We walked in silence to the corner and made a turn toward the riverside campgrounds.

  I hooked flyaway hair behind both ears and hid my hands in hoodie pockets. “How’d you know which room was mine?”

  He slid his eyes my way. “Your light was on.”

  “What if someone else was awake and that was their room?”

  “Nah.”

  I made a face at his back. “Nah? What’s that mean? Nah.”

  He slowed, matching my pace. Confliction rose in his brow and my palms slicked with nerves. “It was the attic. Most people use the attic for storage, but it’s too late at night for anyone to be in the attic unless it’s a bedroom.”

  Fine. That was a reasonable and intelligent conclusion. Cross wasn’t a dummy. Good to know. It reminded me of the way he’d watched Jason and his family earlier. What did he see when he looked at them? Something else hit me. “That doesn’t explain how you knew the attic was my room. What if I was in bed for the night when I texted you?”

  He ducked his head, shooting me an apologetic expression. “I don’t think you sleep. There are purple crescents under your eyes and you seem edgy. I think you’re troubled and lonely. I think you’d choose the attic for your room because it’s as far away from people as you can get inside your house.”

  My mouth opened and my feet stopped moving. The scars on my arms heated with accusation. He’d seen the cuts when I climbed off the tree. Despite the wind and the darkness. Despite the hoodie. Despite everything.

  I clutched the cuffs of my hoodie inside my pockets. Cutting was taboo. No one talked about cutting, or cutters, in public. Everyone gossiped vehemently about both in private. The town would’ve cared less if I’d shown up pregnant in middle school or had a trendy flaw like heroin addiction. Anything but cutting. Cutting was ugly and my scars offended them. My mouth dried. The scars were forever and there was no earthly forgiveness for them.

  Cross turned. “Sorry.”

  I swallowed a lump. “For what?” His next words would determine how quickly I jogged home and climbed the tree in my yard.

  “I’m not great with timing. Or words. Or people.”

  Not what I’d expected. Most people blurted out rude things and then said they were sorry I was sad or hurting or tired. “Oh.”

  “I wasn’t being rude.” He stopped moving. “The marks under your eyes. I didn’t mean to sound like there was something wrong.” Cross locked his gaze on mine.

  I braced for what might come next. “Something else?”

  “You’re too thin and I saw your arms. I’m curious. I swear I’m not being rude intentionally.” His voice was steady and low. “Did you do that, or did someone else hurt you?”

  The foul buzzer sounded in my mind. I shook my head. “Wow. You’re right. You really aren’t good with people.”

  He bobbed his head in one sharp motion. “I think I knew it was too much to ask.” He moved forward a few paces and turned his chin to look over one shoulder.

  I followed, catching up easily on the wet asphalt. Curiosity moved me forward. “What’d you think of Jason and his folks earlier? I saw the way you looked at them.”

  “He’s your sister’s boyfriend?”

  “I’m not sure. She and I aren’t close.” Regret settled over me. I’d drawn away when Faith died. I’d chosen retreating into a spiral of guilt and shame over looking out for Pru. In hindsight, I was selfish. In the moment, I’d been surviving a nuclear blast to my soul the only way I knew how.

  “Whoever he is, he’s cheating on someone. If not your sister, then someone else and your sister is the other woman.”

  My head swung left and right. “No way. Everyone likes Pru. There’s no way he’d cheat on her and there’s also no way she’d settle for being second string.”

  Cross shrugged. “I think his parents encourage his behavior. They think having more than one girl shows his success at manhood. He probably excels at every sport and whatever else his parents push him toward. He’s probably an only child.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Anything else, Sherlock?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Odds are his dad’s just like him. The dad probably cheats too and the marriage endures for the sake of Jason, which makes him Priority One. Hence his ego. I think Jason’s worshipped at his house, so he won’t put up with anything else from his friends or his girls, and he won’t see cheating as wrong no matter how many ways the message is sent.”

  I snorted. “You got all that from seeing him dragged off the porch?”

  Cross’s lips twitched. “You saw him dragged. I saw him escorted home by his entourage for a pat on the back and a hardy steak dinner.”

  “Nice. It’s all in the perception, I guess. I wonder what your interpretation says about you?”

  Cross chuckled. “Fine. I guessed about the steak. I think it means I’m observant and I don’t trust people.”

  Touché. My mind swirled with questions. “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  Older than me. I’d been right about that. “I’m seventeen.”

  “I know.”

  I guffawed. “Was it my telltale nose or something in my freckles?”

  “It was on your license.”

  I smiled. Right. I pulled my hands free and let my arms swing at my sides. “Are you here for the River Festival?”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”

  “It’s not until the end of the month. You’re here until then?”

  “Yeah.”

  We wound through the trees outside the campground. Cross kicked a path in fallen pine needles. I marveled at his strange ability to make me feel comfortable when everything about him was the opposite of comforting. His disposition was too sullen. His words were too direct. Still, electricity zinged in the air between us and I wanted to know him. What a strange way to make friends.

  “Mercy?”

  I startled. My name sounded interesting on his tongue. “Yeah?”

  “Where were you going when we met? I saw you again on your way home. You were upset. I nearly left Red’s to check on you when I saw you trip, but you were gone before I grabbed my jacket and opened the door.”

  He saw me fall in the gutter. Was anyone more awkward?

  He gripped the narrow trunk of a young tree. His eyebrows drew together. “You worried me, which is crazy because I’d only met you for a minute, but it bugged me. Where would a girl like you go in a storm and why did the outing piss you off?”

  “I wasn’t mad, and I wasn’t on a mission.”

  “You were soaked from the storm and you were mad. Weren’t you? Were you sad? Are you sad now?”

  I wet my lips and searched my muddled brain for answers. “I went to the cemetery to visit my family. I wasn’t upset by the storm. I don’t mind the rain.” My breath whipped in and out in silent bursts. A panic attack would send me home before I met the Lovells.

  He watched me. Could he see the stress in my expression?

  I sipped the air, calming my thoughts, steadying my nerves. “Sometimes I worry about the well-being of strangers too. I think it shows heart. We’re all human, right? We should care about one another.”

  He ducked his head. “What about the other thing?”

  The other thing. Was I sad? For a long time that was all I was. “Not right now.”

  His cheek lifted into a crooked half smile. “Cool.” He presented his palm to me.

  “What?” I stepped back an inch.

  “Sometimes touch helps.” Frustration wrinkled his brow. “I’m not being weird, I swear. This isn’t a creeper move.”

  I s
hook my head. My chest burned with effort as my breaths grew shallower.

  “Trust me.”

  I shut my eyes against the shining in my periphery. Humiliation was seconds away. I’d pass out or cry. I couldn’t run home this way.

  Cross lifted my hand in his. “Okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” My neck and face burned. I squeezed my eyelids tighter.

  He curled strong fingers over mine and stepped closer. He pressed our joined hands against his chest until I felt his racing heartbeat touch my fingers. “Human touch is powerful. It’s calming. Free medicine. Like laughter.”

  My eyes popped open. “You don’t look like someone who laughs much.”

  Cross frowned. “What do you mean?”

  A bubble of laughter passed my lips. I pulled my hand free and covered my mouth. “Nothing.” Another slip of laughter pressed my closed lips.

  His eyes twinkled. “See?”

  A genuine smile of gratitude dawned. The frantic feeling slipped away. I pulled in a long, easy breath. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  I laughed again. Who was this guy?

  The steady whir of rushing water crept into my conscience. The river. We’d walked across town already? Maybe he was a magician. Trailers filled the campsites. Fires in barrels glowed brightly, despite the wind and occasional mess of flying leaves. Bullfrogs and crickets sang the night score from their secret hideouts.

  Cross motioned me forward. “This is my camper.”

  Music drifted from the windows of a small black camper on our right. A metal awning sheltered two barrels with fires going strong. A circle of pop-up chairs cradled a group of people I recognized from pictures online and the new banner outside Red’s.

  “Welcome to the Lovell Traveling Sideshow.”

  Chapter 4

  Scars

  A man in black slacks, a fitted white shirt, and a black vest stood as we approached. His fedora reminded me of old movies. “Welcome back, Cross.” Firelight danced over the older man’s features.

  My eyes adjusted to the light and recognition arrived on a burst of floating embers. This was the Lovell family patriarch. According to my research, Nicolae was a father figure to the entire cast and actual father to many of the performers.

  Cross met him with a handshake. “Nicolae, this is Mercy. Mercy, this is Nicolae Lovell.”

  I lifted my fingers waist high. “Hi.”

  Cross evaluated me a moment before turning back to the crowd. He pointed chair to chair in a counterclockwise motion. “This is Nicolae’s wife, Nadya. Their daughter, Rose, and the acrobats Camille, Viola, and Gem. These guys are the Lovell sons. Beau, Tom, and you’ve met Anton. Anton’s sidekick called it a night at eleven. You’ll meet her another time. This is Collin, the fire-eater, and Daisy. Daisy’s our company ninja. She also trains the animals.”

  A collective nod moved around the circle. Their smiles were inviting, not suspicious or unkind as I’d expected.

  I’d never remember all the new names.

  What did he mean I’d meet Anton’s sidekick another time? What exactly constituted a sideshow sidekick, and why did he think I’d come back?

  Nadya stood beside her husband. Lines of silver bracelets jingled on her arms. Everyone turned in her direction. “Welcome, Mercy.” She gathered her long gauzy skirt in one hand and approached the food table set against Cross’s camper. Her wide brown eyes summoned me and I moved to the end of the little buffet on autopilot.

  Nadya filled a paper bowl and held it out to me.

  A dozen sets of eyes bore into my back.

  “Here. Eat.”

  “No, thank you. I’m not hungry.” My lips pinched tight and rolled in over my teeth.

  “Oh. Come now. Try it.”

  Tendrils of steam carried heady spices into my nose and my traitorous stomach groaned.

  She nodded. “Eat.” Nadya watched me like farmers watched kids picking strawberries, as though I’d come to take something of hers.

  I accepted the offering. Golden-brown battered fish and corn bread weighted the little paper bowl. She tucked a fork and napkin into my fingers, lingering her touch a split second too long.

  “Thank you.”

  Cross moved two pop-up chairs into the circle. The others made room to accommodate us. As I passed through the circle, everyone smiled, bowls and cups in their laps. I took the seat beside Anton.

  Cross headed for the buffet table and returned on my heels with two cups. “Coffee or punch?” He looked younger in worn-out jeans and a hoodie. He could pass for any frat boy on a bender at Red’s if his eyes weren’t so intense.

  I settled into the chair and examined the cups. “You mean you don’t know?”

  A low chuckle rolled around the circle.

  Anton elbowed me. “Drives you nuts, right? He looks at someone for five seconds and he knows their life story. I spend months with people and can’t see what’s right in front of me.” His straight, white teeth glowed in the low light. There was something sad in the statement, despite his megawatt smile.

  Nadya reclaimed her seat. “It’s not polite to show off, Cross.”

  “I wasn’t.” He handed me the punch. Apparently he didn’t know everything.

  His lack of inflection both worried and comforted me. Maybe he was broken too. If he was, I’d understand, but I wouldn’t tell him. Too many people tried fixing me. Most justified their intrusion under the guise of love, but fixing wasn’t love. Fixing was like saying, “I don’t like you this way. Let me change you into something that makes me more comfortable.”

  I pressed my fork into the cornbread and touched it to my lips. The bread was as rich and buttery as it smelled. I tried another bite.

  One of the acrobats leaned over the arm of her chair, invading Cross’s personal space. She and the other girls wore jeans and sweatshirts like Cross. They all seemed too young to travel the country without parents. “So, Mercy. It’s not often Cross brings a girl home for dinner.”

  Silence fell over the various conversations in our circle.

  Apprehension coiled in my stomach. I set the fork into my paper bowl.

  Cross turned his eyes on me.

  “So?” Her bright blue eyes and fair skin set her apart from the Lovell clan. Her Southern accent sounded more like mine than anyone else’s in the circle. She was newer than the latest website update. I hadn’t seen many girls prettier than her.

  I winced mentally at the irrational pinch of jealousy.

  The girl on her left leaned elbows on knees, looking around the first girl. Cross had just named them all. Why didn’t I remember their names?

  “What made you follow him here? Was it his winning personality, or his wild charisma?”

  I stole a glance at Cross. “I wanted to meet you.”

  Both girls sat straighter. “Me?”

  I balanced the bowl in my lap and steadied myself. “No. Yes. All of you. I have questions.”

  The man on Anton’s other side groaned. “Here we go. What are you writing, a report? You want to know if we tell fortunes or make Gypsy curses?”

  “What? No.” I turned back to Cross in a panic. If they got up and left before I explained, I’d have snuck out for nothing. I focused on Cross. Though, I’d probably wonder about Gypsy curses later. “The last time you were in town, my sister died.” The words were out before I had time to plan them.

  He blinked.

  Stunned silence weighted the air. My limbs twitched to run. Run home. Run away. Run until the last three years disappeared and Faith was with my mom in the kitchen making dinner.

  Cross’s large hand pressed mine to the arm of my chair. I blinked through unshed tears. When would the intensity of her loss diminish?

  The man I’d upset for no reason kicked back in his chair on the other side of Anton. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

  I pulled in a shuddery breath and steadied my voice. “You wouldn’t. It’s okay. I won
dered if any of you were with the show that year and if I showed you a picture, would you remember her?” I dug a folded snapshot from my pocket. “This is Faith. She was seventeen. She snuck out and came to the river three summers ago. She didn’t come home.”

  The pain in my heart seared my thoughts. I gripped the arms of the chair.

  Cross took the picture and passed it around the circle, starting with the acrobats. “What happened?”

  I swallowed the knot in my throat. “I don’t know. She drowned. She said she was going to meet friends at the River Festival. She didn’t come home. I thought maybe one of you remembered her or saw someone she was with that night.”

  Cornbread churned in my gut. Exactly why I didn’t eat.

  Faith’s photo drifted around the circle, moving from hand to hand at a crawl. Each person took their time with my request. Appreciation bloomed in my heart.

  Cross released my hand. “The Lovells were all here that year. Most of the others weren’t. I wasn’t.”

  Anton stretched his thick legs toward the fire and crossed his booted feet in front of him. “Mouse was here. Trina had just left. We had another set of acrobats then.”

  I rubbed my palms over my knees. “You get a lot of turnover for a traveling show.”

  Anton blew out a long breath. “You aren’t kidding.”

  Nadya and Nicolae stood, breaking the circle of chairs. “We’re going to get the guitars,” Nicolae said.

  Nadya’s sad smile hurt me. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

  I bit into the thick of my lip and ducked my chin.

  The Lovells’ daughter, Rose, watched her parents leave. She cleared her throat. “I think I might…” She held Faith’s photo in her fingertips. “I’m not positive. It’s been a long time, you know?” Her focus moved from me to Anton. “I’m not sure.”

  I scooted to the edge of my seat. “What do you think you remember?”

  Rose hesitated. Her sleek black hair was styled in heavy curls like a retro pinup girl. Brightly colored tattoos of roses on thorny vines covered her neck and the skin exposed by the scooped neckline of her dress. She blinked heavily lined eyes. “I don’t want to give you wrong information. This is too important.” Her ruby-red lips shone in the firelight.