by Sarah Noffke
“That’s exactly right. You are staying because you belong to this circus. The others can leave. Hell, half of them, like the incompetent crew, I want to leave. But you, I would rather you and Finley die than abandon me. Call me sick. Call me demented. But like a crazed lover, if I can’t have you two in my circus then no one will.”
All noises in the big top were sucked into a vacuum. Then Fanny stood, the entire movement surprising even her. It had been a reflexive movement, one done out of her need to protect. After standing, she merely stood though, staring at the three in the center of the ring. Finley wasn’t moving, only clenching his jaw. Zuma was white, not as white as Knight, but still all blood had gone to her feet.
“Finley understands this, but you, Zuma, apparently need to have it stated plainly. Isn’t that right, Finley? That’s why you didn’t take the business card, am I correct?” Knight said, his eyes shifting to a stoic Finley.
“Yes, Master,” Finley said.
“See there, Zuma. So do I make myself clear?” Knight said.
“Yes, Master. I leave and you kill me,” she said, and knew at once it was too bold of a statement, but she couldn’t help herself. It was die or lose her spirit entirely and who would she be then? Would it be worth living?
If she was looking at him then she would have seen the all-wrong smile on his face. “Oh, but the thing is you can stay and the very same thing could happen. I cannot protect you. This all reminds me of the unfortunate accident that happened to Jasmine. Poor girl. I cannot protect your health and well-being and it is by no means guaranteed if you stay. You may be a star in this circus, but you can be replaced.”
“What happened to Jaz wasn’t an accident,” Zuma said before she could stop herself.
“How dare you?” Knight said and then snapped his fingers over his shoulder. “Sebastian, come here.”
The boy with greasy black hair stood at once and walked, copying the movements Knight had just displayed. He stopped beside Knight, his eyes lingering on Zuma, who wore her practice leotard.
“Remember how I told you Zuma was off limits during the day, but to do as you wished during the night?”
“Yes, Master,” Sebastian said.
“Well, since she apparently has some fears about things not being accidents I want you to keep an eye on our acrobat all the time. Whenever she’s alone, day or night, as long as no one else is around, keep her safe. Lend her your hand to assure her she’s all right,” Knight said.
Zuma backed up, as Sebastian took the same number of steps in her direction. “It would be my honor, Master,” the boy said.
“Only when she’s alone, Sebastian. Only when she dares to leave the safety of her trailer alone,” Knight said. “That way she sleeps better at night.”
Zuma was shaking her head now, furiously. “No. You stay away from me,” she said, her words frantic.
“I only want to help you,” Sebastian said and Fanny had now moved in closer, but was still watching. “Just know that if you need a hand, I’m here.” And then he raised his poison-ridden fingers and directed them at Zuma.
Beside her, Finley turned and balled up his fists but didn’t say a word.
Sebastian’s hand was outstretched, moving ever closer to Zuma, who looked frozen, like she wasn’t sure if she should run or challenge the murderer in front of her. If she ran, Knight would probably knock her down with a headache and then she’d be a real target for Sebastian. But he didn’t look close to stopping and she hated the power he had over her. With a wicked smile Sebastian’s hand closed the distance between them until his hand hovered an inch from her exposed forearm. Zuma felt the heat of his body close to hers.
“All I have to do is touch you once,” he said, too much glee in his voice.
Finley was vibrating with a raging force. It was almost too encompassing. It was about to overwhelm him. Tear him apart. Take over. Force him to do something deadly. Then he reminded himself of what Ian said and he turned his back on Zuma and Sebastian, pretending to have his attention stolen by something on the other side of the big top. He squeezed his eyes shut. Whatever happened now was a new future. Zuma may die now, but Finley would live.
“Do you like or disapprove of this arrangement?” Knight said to Finley.
The acrobat turned and faced his master, but kept his gaze low. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Oh, but you must have some sort of feelings on the matter. Does it make you uncomfortable that Sebastian will be watching your partner? Worried, perhaps?”
“I don’t care,” Finley said, the words feeling so wrong coming out of him. But this was what Ian had told him to do. This was him changing the future. This was him not tackling Sebastian and pushing him away, earning him death. “It doesn’t matter to me if Sebastian watches or touches Zuma.”
“Sebastian, sit down,” Knight ordered. “And you, Finley, are infuriating. You obviously care for the girl, but are trying to make a show of not, to take away my power.”
“I don’t give a damn about Zuma,” Finley said, and then turned and looked away from her.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Finley’s head thundered with anger and shame. His eyes were all too aware of Zuma’s shocked face. She’d come so close to death and he had stood by and allowed it. This was different than his usual passive nature. This was Finley being heartless. And his words. I don’t give a damn about Zuma. They were lightning in his being, scorching his insides.
“You think you can fool me?” Knight said to Finley. Everyone could feel the anger in his voice; it was a new anger, one born from Finley taking away his power by not reacting. “I know you better than anyone. And I know you’re lying.”
Knight’s advantage lay in his ability to threaten the people Finley cared about. That had always been the way. And now he didn’t have that. Finley was supposed to be dead now. In the future Ian saw, Finley protected Zuma. He did what Knight would have expected, but Ian had figured out how to outmaneuver Knight. And what happened next was all new. “I’m not lying. I care about no one and nothing,” Finley said in a dead voice.
Knight tightened his beady eyes at Finley. He had to have a way to hurt the guy. “Do you know, all of my kids were produced using surrogates. All of them,” he said, and now there was a smile in his snake-like voice. “All of them but one.”
Finley’s eyes almost gave away his surprise, but quickly he covered it with a blank expression.
“You see, Finley,” Knight said, “I got the idea of creating an army of thieves from my dear brother, who had saved lost souls and made a fortune using them to create his circus. But I didn’t want kids who had baggage, and that’s why I used surrogates, so I could mold the children from the beginning.”
Everyone in the big top, not even caring if they would be punished, stopped and focused on this exchange. Most had sensed there was something nefarious about the kids who had been there in the beginning and now were gone. But thieves? Surrogates? The cast and crew could hardly fathom this reality. And the fact that Knight was stating this so plainly meant what they all feared: he had total power. He wasn’t even making a show of not being a dictator anymore.
“However,” Knight continued, his eyes only on Finley, “I knew that breeding this army would take time and so I decided I needed one child to start with, while the surrogates were being inseminated and hatching my first children. You, Finley, will remember you were a year older than the children in your set and that’s because you weren’t born from a surrogate. You, my boy, were an orphan I adopted.”
Finley’s face did give something away then, and that was mostly Zuma’s fault. He felt her look directly at him. Felt the fear in her vibrating. And the shock of this reveal was not something he knew how to assimilate. He had always thought of himself as manufactured. But he was born…from parents. The idea felt wrong, and also like a dream come true.
“Yes, that’s right,” Knight said, almost laughing at this secret. “I took a page out of my brother’s
book and went to orphanages.”
Knight only gave information away to manipulate. To hurt. And Finley knew this and knew he had to be careful. “Why are you telling me this, Master?” he asked boldly.
And Knight did laugh now, one that reeked of his sinister glee. “When I adopted you, you were an infant. Extremely adoptable. You could have had a normal life. Just imagine it. Things could have gone differently for you, Finley. You could have had the life you’ve mistakenly thought you wanted.”
Fanny watched from her place just in front of her kids. She was hinged on this exchange, her eyes daring to look directly at Knight. She wanted to step in right then. To take over and tear away the pain that was second by second overwhelming Finley’s face. Not yet, she told herself.
“No, that’s not true,” Finley finally managed out through clenched teeth, his eyes blurring. His head dizzy.
“Nothing was ever truer,” Knight said, a pleased tone in his voice. “Oh, and let me tell you, I had to compete for you. There was this really nice couple who wanted you. Picture perfect. But your would-be mother kept getting these awful headaches and the administrator didn’t think they were the best fit seeing as how she seemed fragile,” he said with a laugh. “My fake-wife, one of the surrogates, and I were chosen as the right family to take you.”
And Finley now couldn’t control the devastating heartbreak that covered his face. It oozed off him, and he knew it was the best present he could give to Knight. His pain. “No,” Finley said with a growl.
“Oh, yes,” Knight said, drawing out the last word into multiple syllables.
Finley was at the point of not caring. He’d explode on Knight and then teleport away. Run. Run until he couldn’t anymore, until he reached the east coast. He had to get away. He almost didn’t care if everyone else suffered because of this. Finley was normal. He was born from people who were real and not manufactured. And he could have had a life. He could have been free…
Finley was just about to raise his eyes to look at Knight when he felt a presence materialize beside him. Distracted, he looked up to find Fanny. She’d stepped forward. Not stepped. Raced.
“Charles, I know what you’re doing here,” she said in a voice that almost made the gigantic man seem small.
“Stay out of this,” Knight said, his tone sounding dangerous.
“Oh, how about I fill in a bit of the history that even you, Charles, aren’t aware of? And once I tell you where Finley came from then I’ll happily stay out of this. You can even punish me with a headache if you like,” she said and no one in the big top had ever heard the commanding tone the healer was using. It made Benjamin nervous. It almost made him proud.
“Go ahead, woman,” Knight said, and now he sounded intrigued. “Tell me what you think you know.”
“I know that Finley did deserve a normal life but our Lord obviously has a mission for him,” Fanny began.
“Oh, shut up, woman, what do you know of this?” Knight said.
“I know everything about this. I was the one who dropped Finley at that orphanage,” Fanny said, and she pinned her hands on her hips as the entire big top went silent.
“What?” Finley said, turning to the older woman, his eyes connecting with hers. It felt strange to look directly at someone.
“I dropped Finley at that orphanage’s doorstep nineteen years ago. I told them I was his mother. I told them I couldn’t care for him,” Fanny said, realizing this story was going to have to be told the right way in order to be effective.
“So you’re my mother?” Finley said, and now he felt Zuma at his side. She was his security in this moment. He had abandoned her when she needed him most and yet she was next to him now, silently loaning him her strength.
Fanny shook her head, indicating that she wasn’t Finley’s mother. None of this made sense to him, or to any of the people listening.
“Why would you do that?” Finley asked the healer.
She reached out and touched his chin. He hadn’t realized she’d been close enough to do that. “To keep you safe, Finley,” Fanny said.
Knight blew out an angry breath. He stood next to Fanny, his fists locked by his sides. “This is absurd, woman. How would you know the child you dropped off was Finley?”
Fanny smiled, her face pure and confident. “Because my healing ability acquaints me with a person’s energy. I never forget someone and I know Finley’s energy is the same as the baby I healed and dropped off all those years ago.”
“What? You healed me? From what?” Finley said.
And now the smile faded from Fanny’s face and was replaced by a haunted expression. “I healed you from your father’s attempt to kill you,” she said, and then her honest eyes dared to drift to Knight. She looked at him without regard for any punishment.
“WHAT!?” Knight said so loud it filled the big top, making most people jump. “No!”
“Oh yes, Charles. Finley is your son,” Fanny said, and now she had the demeanor of a disciplinarian lecturing her charges. It was a rare role for her. She was strength and authority. Fanny was unlike anyone had ever seen her. “You thought you killed that baby, but while you were beating up Dave, while Cynthia was killing herself, I saved the child. You had been banished from the circus and Dave had a wife to grieve and a betrayal to deal with. So I decided to take the child to an orphanage. I didn’t want Dave to have the burden of raising the child his wife had through infidelity. His brother’s son. But then the Lord did something strange by making that the place you visited a month later. By making it so you adopted and ended up with your own son, turning him into your prisoner.”
Knight laughed now, but it wasn’t his normal laugh. This one was coated in worry. “This is ridiculous and you have zero proof.”
“So you didn’t adopt Finley from St. Paul’s Orphanage?” Fanny said, all confidence.
Only she spied Knight’s eyes widen. “I did, but that still proves nothing,” he said, almost sounding on the verge of stuttering.
“Well, the child I delivered from Cynthia—your child—he had a crescent-shaped birthmark on his left hip. I know that. I remember it because I studied that child that I saved from your attempt at murder,” Fanny said. She turned to Finley for confirmation. And in a daze he dropped his chin to his chest. This was all too much, and the implications made his head swell with heat.
“What? Finley, tell me this isn’t true,” Knight said, more worry in his tone.
“It must be,” Finley said in a hush. “She’s right about the birthmark and there’s no other way she’d know that.” He spoke like he was talking to himself.
Then a voice beside Finley shattered his world. It was the one person who could confirm the reality unfolding before him. “Everything Fanny has said is true,” Zuma said in confirmation, having used her combat sense. “She isn’t lying.”
“Then…th-th-that…” And Knight did stutter then. “That means you’re my son.”
And to Finley’s horror the man before him reached out. From his low cast eyes he spied a hand reaching for his shoulder. And a second before it connected with him he sprung back using his super speed. “Don’t touch me,” he dared to say.
Around the big top everyone was so still and quiet that it was as if they’d all vanished. Finley was only aware of the wrongness of all of this. Fanny was only focused on the acrobat she had saved almost two decades ago. Zuma had her eyes on Finley too. And Knight felt like he’d been transported into a nightmare, one where he was somehow not in control. He sucked in a breath and looked at his son.
“Finley,” Knight said in a whisper, as everything dawned on him at once, “this explains why I can’t get in your head. I couldn’t get in Dave’s either. It’s our family connection. This explains so much.”
“Dave,” Finley said, his eyes unfocused as everything dawned on him as well. “You killed Dave, who was my uncle. You killed me, or tried to, you’re the reason my mother committed suicide. You’ve enslaved kids. You’re, you’re, you’re…�
�� Finley, who had never gone against Knight before, now felt that he could. He should. He should say what he wanted to Knight. “You’re the devil.”
Knight blinked at Finley. He wanted his son to look back at him. To really see him. He wanted so much from Finley, especially now. “I did it for you. To avenge your death. Don’t you see that? Everything I ever did was because I lost you. After that I went insane. I lost it.”
For all of Finley’s life he’d been afraid of the man before him. Not just afraid, but at times paralyzed by what Knight could do to him if he wasn’t compliant. And now that boy who feared Knight was gone. Finley didn’t care. There was nothing worse than being Charles Knight’s son. To know his blood ran in Finley’s veins. This was his absolute worst-case scenario. Finley could only manage to shake his head at Knight. Everything about the man disgusted him. It always had. And now that he knew Knight was his father, he felt disgusted by himself.
Fanny, sensing his burning hostility, put her arm around Finley’s shoulder. “It’s all right, child,” she said, her tone placating a bit of his pain.
Knight was visibly shaking. To have his son. For it to be Finley. Everything was right and wrong about this for Knight. “Finley, I’m only a monster because I lost you and your mother.”