Cirque Du Minuit

by Annabel Joseph

  “I cannot. I can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

  “I thought you controlled this whole circus.”

  His face twitched. “I control this whole circus, yes, save one person. Theo Zamora.” Michel gave her an assessing look. “But I know someone who could control him, if she has the courage to do so.” He paused. “The show opens in less than two weeks. I need you to bring him back to us.”

  Kelsey twisted her hands in her lap, furious and terrified. “He has to come back,” she agreed. “But what if I can’t get him to?”

  “You did it once,” said Lemaitre briskly. “You can do it again.”

  “Well, let’s go,” Kelsey said, swinging her legs over the bed, ignoring the ache in her shoulder. “Let’s go now.”

  Lemaitre pushed her back yet again. “Soon. When the doctors say it is okay.”

  “I feel fine,” Kelsey argued. “A dislocated shoulder is nothing. They happened all the time at the gym. You pop it back in and you keep training.”

  Michel chuckled softly. “You are a tough girl, ma mignonne. Very tough. But in this, you will obey me.” She subsided at his tone, and fell back with a sigh.

  “How dare he leave me?” she grumbled. “I would never have left him. Horrible man.”

  “He doesn’t deserve you,” Lemaitre said quietly.

  It wasn’t until later that afternoon, when they were flying to Paris on Lemaitre’s private plane, that Kelsey put her hand to her cheek, remembering a vicious slap, a searing glare. You never let go. You wait for me to let go, always.

  “Kelsey?” Lemaitre asked. “Is everything okay?”

  No, nothing’s okay. I thought I knew this man, but I didn’t know him.

  Nothing made sense. Wayne wasn’t a harmless friend, but a player. Theo wasn’t murderous, but selfless. The “accident” hadn’t been an accident at all, but a tragic suicide. And to cap it off, Lemaitre, dungeon despot and ass fucker extraordinaire, was patting her hand as tenderly as her own father ever had. Instead of a red ladybug with black spots, a black ladybug with red spots. All of it, such a shock.

  She turned into Lemaitre’s arms and cried until they touched down, and then dried her eyes and prepared to do battle. This was a fight she intended to win.

  Chapter Sixteen: Confession

  The first knock was timid, a small rap, rap. For a moment Theo thought he was hearing things, but then it came again, louder, more insistent.

  Of course she would come.

  Theo stared at the ceiling, willing her to turn around and go. Give up on him as she should. He’d almost gotten her killed, for fuck’s sake. Stupid, stupid girl.

  He was shirtless, hung over, too weak and miserable to drink the headache away. He had to try. He grabbed the nearest bottle and took a swig, flinching at the burn of straight whiskey.

  “I hear you in there,” Kelsey said, pounding very hard now. He grabbed his head and oriented himself to the door before he tried to stand up.

  “Go away!” he yelled.

  “Open the door, or I swear to God I’ll kick it down.”

  He laughed helplessly. Miserably. If he let her in, he was lost, but he really could envision her kicking the door down.

  “Go away,” he yelled one last time.

  “I’m going to stand out here and raise a ruckus until you open the door, Theo Zamora. I’ll call the police. I’ll get a sledgehammer and rip a fucking hole in the--”

  He swung the door open and scowled at her. “Shut the fuck up. My head is pounding.”

  She pushed past him into his house. This was the house where all this had begun, this fucking mess. It took most of his effort just to kick the door shut after her. He turned to find her scanning his blown-up living room in disgust. He walked past her, heading for the couch.

  “Really nice, Theo,” she snorted. “All you’re missing are the cigarettes.” She threw a carton on the floor in front of him. He stared at them a moment, then picked them up and flung them back at her, hitting the wall over her shoulder. “Get out!”

  She threw the carton back, and this time it glanced off the right side of his head. He lurched to his feet, advancing on her, not fully sure what he intended to do.

  “You didn’t drop her,” Kelsey yelled in the face of his charge. “She let go. You lied to me, to everyone. You liar!” Theo faltered. Kelsey backed away from him, a combination of fear and anger in her eyes. “So, I forgive you for the time you slapped me. Go ahead, smoke up. But you should have told me, you ass.”

  So she knew now. Fine. It made no difference at this point.

  “And you left me, you asshole! You didn’t even say goodbye. I woke up in the hospital with fucking Lemaitre sitting beside my bed. How dare you leave me?”

  “Get out,” he ordered, nodding at the door. “I left you because I’m done with you.”

  She shook her head and stood her ground, shriek-mouthed little witch. “An accident. You lied about all of it. You told me you never lied. I guess that was a lie too. You fucking liar!” She pitched herself at him, a hundred pounds of spitting, furious gymnast with claws extended. “And guess what? You can’t be done with me,” she yelled. “I won’t let you be done with me!”

  He caught her and shook her. “It’s not your choice, stupid girl!”

  “I’m not a stupid girl! I’m not stupid or good or innocent. Not anymore. Why did you lie to me, Theo? Why did you let everyone believe it was your fault?”

  “I never lied. It was my fault! And you know nothing.”

  He released her and she toppled on her ass, going still. He turned his back on her, kicking a liquor bottle and almost stumbling. Five minutes back in his life and she was already plaguing him beyond what he could bear. “You don’t understand,” he said, turning back to her. “No matter what happened...either way...it was always my fault. Even you. You falling. It was my fault.”

  Kelsey would never understand what had gone through his mind when he saw the silk shearing away beneath her grasp. When he closed his eyes he saw it. When he slept he dreamed of it, to the point he didn’t dare sleep. She could never understand the damage it left behind, even now. Just to see her here, in all her beautiful outrage. Alive. When she might have been--

  Kelsey shook her head, rising slowly to her feet. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t cut the silks. And Minya--what she did--it was her choice. Her stupid choice.”

  “No,” he barked. “Don’t you see? I made all her choices for her. She forgot how to make intelligent choices because I stripped her bare. I did it on purpose because I liked the feeling. The feeling of power. The feeling of dominion over her.” He raked his eyes over Kelsey, his precious coccinelle. His triumph and his downfall. “I still like that feeling. Save yourself. Go away.”

  “What about our act? That’s it? You’re abandoning me?”

  “I’m sending you away.”

  Kelsey threw up her hands. “Because that tactic really worked when you tried it with Minya.”

  He unleashed a tirade of vile French epithets before he found his way to English again. “Go, now,” he yelled in her face. “Go away from me and do what you do. Bulldoze on through life, eating colored sugar and shitting rainbows out of your goddamn ass, never realizing how much danger you’re in. I don’t want you on my head. I won’t have you on my head.”

  He was so in love with her. In love enough to make her go. “Please go,” he said. “I can’t stand looking at you anymore. Take the cigarettes, if you please.”

  Kelsey stepped back, as if he’d slapped her again. Theo rubbed his eyes, unable to bear her vitality, her loveliness. This had to be the end of it.

  “You’re insane,” she finally said. “You’re living in some fantasy world of Lemaitre’s if you really believe all this shit. Don’t flatter yourself, that you were the one who killed Minya. That you were the reason she cut that cable and let go. And don’t flatter yourself into thinking you have the power to take me down. You couldn’t do it if you tried.
You saved me, Theo.” Her voice broke. Oh, Jesus, not the tears. He ground his teeth, wanting to kill her. Wanting to kiss her.

  She took a deep breath. “You can make me cry, and you can make me hate you, but you don’t have the power to destroy me, not ever. You megalomaniacal ass.”

  An awful silence followed. Then she moved. Moved to leave him.

  “Kelsey.” He didn’t recognize his voice. It belonged to some other person, some other entity straining to come out. She froze on her way to the door. “Kelsey, I... I just... I couldn’t bear it if hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  The room was so quiet he could hear her soft breath. She turned to face him. “You’re doing a piss poor job of not hurting me, you prick.”

  He gazed at her, memorizing her deep blue eyes, her light angelic hair. The solid, strong shape of her. “I love you, Kelsey.” It came pouring out. His confession. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.” He could only say the two things, in garbled, tangled phrases. “Je t’adore. I love you. I don’t want-- I’m afraid--” His English left him. He dropped words and stumbled, trying to explain while emotion lodged in his throat. “The way you looked, with that silk fluttering away from you... I couldn’t bear... I know that you’re strong, but--”

  Theo turned away, made his way to the couch and collapsed, burying his head in his hands. “When you fell--” He grasped for any words that would make sense. “I was never so scared in my life. I couldn’t bear it again. To see you fall down, like her…”

  The memories crowded his brain, sickening memories he’d never get over, then she was there beside him, cradling his head, stroking his hair in that way she had. “Theo, you can’t hurt me,” she said against his ear. “You caught me. Remember? In silks, you never let go. You taught me that. You’ve taught me so many things. You saved my life. Can’t you forgive yourself by now?”

  Forgive himself? He wished. But it wasn’t enough. There was no way to undo the bad things he’d done. No way to unbreak Minya’s heart, or uncut the line she chose to cut. No way to guarantee he wouldn’t break Kelsey’s heart too, or trample it by pure, stubborn idiocy. “How can I know I won’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice tight and hoarse. “How can I be sure?”

  “You don’t have to be sure. You can never be sure. Sometimes people who are in love hurt each other. But it’s nobody’s fault. Minya’s weakness shouldn’t be your burden to carry.”

  “But I made her weak!” Theo looked over into Kelsey’s eyes, willing her to understand.

  She shook her head. “I think maybe you were attracted to her weakness. In the beginning you were, and then it became too much, and you wanted to let go of her. But you didn’t cause it. It was probably there before.”

  Theo took a deep breath, and then another. He thought back to those early days when he’d first fallen under Minya’s spell. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn’t his power, but her cringing submissiveness that had made them work. Only they didn’t work.

  She didn’t work.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” he breathed.

  “No,” Kelsey said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Lots of people break up with lovers. Maybe we’ll break up someday too, but I won’t go plummeting eight stories because of it. That was her choice. You know what I’ll do?”

  Theo couldn’t wait to hear. He looked into her snapping wide eyes. “What will you do?”

  “I’ll go out and have a drink, and tell everyone who’ll listen what a massive fucking asshole you are.”

  Theo relaxed into her arms, into the familiar feel and smell of her. “Do you promise to get really drunk, so you’ll really tell everyone the worst of the worst about me?”

  “Oh, I won’t have to be really drunk to do that. Believe me.”

  Theo listened to his own chuckle in wonder. From such depths of despair, to sunshine peeking through the clouds. Sunshine, or her bright, white hair tickling his cheeks. He took her hand and kissed it, not wanting to let go. “You don’t leave me. Ever. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she said, just that easily. And he believed her. He loved her and she loved him, and it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t hurt Kelsey. But he could love her--and he did.

  “As soon as I sober up,” he said, “we’re going to bed. Lovemaking for hours.” He groped her breast, caressing her nipple. “You want?”

  “Yes, I want, if you shower first,” Kelsey said, wrinkling her nose. “And we do have to leave. We have to go back to Marseille, and you have to be my partner in our act.”

  “Tomorrow,” Theo said. “Tomorrow, Marseille, act, partners. Tonight, you and me, my beautiful strong girl.”

  Beautiful strong stubborn fearless Kelsey.

  It wasn’t his fault.

  *** *** ***

  Theo slept for hours while Kelsey watched over him. Exhausted, impossible man.

  Exhausted, impossible man who loved her.

  Or so he said. She wasn’t sure you could receive an avowal of love from someone as messed up as Theo and really take it to heart. She’d see what he said about it when he was sober. Still, he acted a lot like someone in love. Impulsive, irrational. Possessive. Unreasonable.

  How long had he loved her? As long as she’d loved him? Longer? For a while she drifted around his little house, cleaning up empty bottles, running the dishwasher, straightening up. Not a cigarette butt in sight. Kelsey remembered the first time she’d come here like it was yesterday. That feeling of touching a god, entering a sacred space, and then the stunning realization he wasn’t a god after all, but human and flawed.

  Deeply flawed, some might say.

  She went back and lay down beside him. He smelled nice. He’d shaved and showered earlier while she changed his sheets. But even smelly and unshaven, he was a good man. She was surer than ever of that. He wasn’t perfect, but good. They were in love, and they would end up...somewhere. Kelsey wouldn’t get hung up on what that somewhere looked like at the moment.

  She must have fallen asleep lying next to him, because around dusk it was Theo who woke her from a deep sleep. The slurred, fractured English was gone. His haunted face looked rested and calm. “It wasn’t a dream,” he said.

  “No.” Kelsey smiled. “I’m real.”

  And he really did love her. It was written in his eyes, in the tender expression on his face. He pressed her back on the bed and kissed her. She loved the gentle Theo, but she loved the rough Theo too, and she was prepared when he showed up a moment later, grappling and manipulating her, holding her down. She wanted this force. This spirit. This was the Theo she loved.

  He parted her legs and drove inside her with breathtaking thrusts, lifting her from the bed, crushing her in his arms. He was wild, and she was his. She recognized this violence by now and wasn’t afraid of it. Her blood beat in her ears and her pussy throbbed with wondrous, building rapture. His cock stretched her and possessed her, making her whole body shudder.

  They came in a simultaneous and frenetic climax, in a shaking tangle of limbs. He fell away with tender whispers, the gentle lover again in the afterglow. “Kelsey, Kelsey, Kelsey,” he murmured, tracing her lips and her eyes. “I’m so glad you didn’t go away.”

  Those faint, tiny freckles, they killed her. “You aren’t always stronger than me,” she said. “Sometimes I’ll get my way.”

  “Every so often.” Theo shrugged with a devilish grin. “If I have a weak moment. I have them sometimes.”

  It was such an understatement they both laughed out loud.

  They rested and talked, and ate a little, and drank coffee, never getting out of bed. A new Theo was revealed to her in fits and starts. A Theo who talked openly about their future together. About their relationship and where they wanted it to go. A Theo who wasn’t so bitter and secretive. Oh, she knew he would still, sometimes, be some of those things. So would she. That was part of life.

  But this was progress. Openness and honesty, and the simple affection he gave her, that he’d given her all along.

/>   “I don’t know why you put up with me,” he said in one of his bleaker moments. “I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes.”

  “Oh, but you make up for it,” Kelsey laughed. “All those other times when you’re bossing me around.”

  “I am good at bossing you around, aren’t I?”

  Just before they left in the morning to return to Marseille, they made love again, this time as Master and devoted slave. He gave the orders and she followed them, licking, sucking, biting, touching and caressing each beloved part of him as told. He partook of her too, holding her down when she struggled to escape his torments and teases. She enjoyed the exacting dominant as much as the uncontrolled lover, if not more. She wanted them both, and his gentle side too.

  “What do you think?” he asked as he held her afterward. “What do you think about the two of us? Will we work out, you and me?”

  I don’t have to think. I just know you’re the one, Theo. I’ve known it from the start.

  Chapter Seventeen: The Finale

  Kelsey and Theo returned to Marseille together, to a life that was familiar and yet unfamiliar. Wayne had moved out of the house while they were away, but was still employed by the company. Or perhaps he was ordered out of the house by Lemaitre. Kelsey didn’t know. She and Wayne spoke briefly outside the theater the following day and made an uncomfortable peace. Still, Kelsey understood their friendship had suffered an irreparable rift.

  That loss, though, was offset by Theo’s newfound capacity to love. He was still obnoxious, but he was lovingly obnoxious. Best of all, the fear and secrecy that had lurked behind his gaze for so many months was gone, and no more nagging questions echoed in her head. Also, after Kelsey’s accident, someone--Lemaitre, Kelsey suspected--finally whispered the truth about Minya’s death in a few carefully selected ears. The secret passed around the troupe, and probably wider, to other circuses, although it was never overtly mentioned out of respect for Minya, and her parents, who still grieved. But Theo and Kelsey no longer had to endure glares or speculative glances in the halls and practice spaces of Cirque du Monde.