Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

W e spend the next week with Liam and the rest of his family.

His brother Elijah is more rugged but also somehow more approachable. His wife is kind of quirky in a way that had me one-clicking her books before the night was over.

Most evenings we spend long hours at the dinner table, after the food and desserts have been put away, sharing outrageous stories over bottles of wine.

One night the boys go out for “HALO” which I assume is a video game until I realize they mean high-altitude military parachuting. The security dudes claim it’s for training purposes, but I call bullshit, especially when Logan and Wolfgang tag along.

Worry eats at me. What’s the point of getting out of jail if you’re going to jump out of planes? So, I invite Maisie over for a girls’ night. She brings a card game called Romance vs The World, which turns out to be an effective distraction.

We laugh until we have tears in our eyes.

The guys get back early, having finished their jumps.

And clearly missing their women. Liam immediately disappears with Samantha. Everyone else soon breaks up. Wolfgang offers to take Maisie home, where she’s still staying until we’re ready to leave town.

Logan spends the night showing me the benefit to having a fearless, adrenaline junkie for a lover. He’s full of sap, as they say around these parts, rowdy and mischievous, bending me over the bed, making me sit on his face, forcing me to orgasm so many times I collapse into a deep sleep.

The days pass in a beautiful dream.

Then it’s time for us to travel to the next stop.

Cat approaches us just as we’re about to board the RV. Her excitement radiates off her, making her dark eyes shine. It’s a rare look for the usually combative Cat, one that instantly grabs my attention.

“Hey!” she says, her voice full of nervous energy.

I pause and turn to face her, a smile tugging at my lips despite my nervousness at whatever this is about. “What’s up, Cat?”

She takes a deep breath, visibly gathering her courage. “I’ve decided to leave the circus,” she blurts out, words rushing together in a torrent. “I’m going to college.”

Holy shit. The revelation is both unexpected and somehow refreshing. Cat has always seemed so fiercely loyal to the circus, and this sudden shift is surprising.

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Does your mother know about this?”

Cat rolls her eyes, looking a little more like herself. “Yes, I talked to her in jail.”

“It’s a farm in Nebraska.”

I make a face at Logan. “Are you still talking about that? It still sounds like you’re trying to lie to the kids about what happened to old Roofus.”

“It’s a real place,” he says.

“She can’t leave,” Cat points out. “That makes it jail.”

“Considering I’ve just been from an actual jail, I assure you it’s a farm.”

Cat looks embarrassed, which sucks, but mostly I’m so grateful to hear the dry humor in Logan’s tone. That’s part of him just as much as his generosity and sensuality.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice steadier now. “All my life I’ve followed in my mother’s footsteps, did what she wanted. And regardless of whether she’s at the farm or in the circus, I’m ready to be my own person. This is something I want for myself.”

She looks between Logan and me, eyes wide, clearly anxious about our reactions.

He’s quiet long enough to make my heart skip a beat.

“You were an incredible Juliet,” I tell her. “But you should do what makes you happy. Besides, if everyone runs away to the circus, who’s going to go to college anymore.”

She grins. “My understudy is fabulous, as you know.”

I snort, because I’m the understudy. But only because we didn’t have time to train another person on all the moves. Since I helped choreograph them, I could do them in a pinch. “Thank you, but hopefully we can find someone else to do it. Besides, someone has to keep Tricks from eating all the treats when he’s not onstage.”

He wags his tail, looking up, clearly aware that something interesting is happening.

“You should do what makes you happy. We should all have that freedom.”

Her shoulders relax slightly at my words, relief washing over her features. “Thank you.” She turns to look at Logan. “What do you think?”

Logan nods, his serious demeanor stern. “You have my support,” he says.

Which is an interesting way to say it. Kind of old-fashioned. It might be quaint if it weren’t for the stiff tone he’s using.

Cat blinks her eyes as if fighting off tears.

“You’re happy for her, right?” I ask, giving Logan a nudge behind his back.

He glances back. Those green eyes meet mine, the emerald gorgeous. And vivid. The kind of vivid that means he’s emotional. And I realize that this sternness is coming from a different place. Not one of disapproval but grief.

“You’ll miss her,” I tell him, my voice soft but loud enough for her to hear.

“Of course I will.” He turns back to her. “Cat, you were still a little kid when I came on. Now you’re leaving. It’s a big turning point. An important one. I’ll miss you, but I would never want that to stop you from going.”

Her eyes blink, and then her dark lashes glisten with tears. “Thank you,” she whispers, emotion thickening her voice. “I appreciate everything. You were always… I could never… One day I hope…”

His voice comes out gruff. “No matter where life takes you, you’ll always have a place in the Cirque des Miroirs.”

She leans forward and gives him a hard squeeze around the middle. He freezes for a moment, hands in midair, before placing them around her shoulders.

She gives Logan some details, including a plan to attend a music program and to stay with an aunt in Florida until she gets in. He gives her a hug and promises to check in with her. Because sometimes love is taking someone with you. And sometimes it’s letting someone go.

A shadow passing over his features. He crosses his arms, leaning against the RV, his gaze distant for a moment. I reach out and squeeze Logan’s hand briefly before letting go.

Logan turns and follows me up the metal steps into the RV. Inside the cozy space that has been our sanctuary on the road, he sinks heavily onto the leather couch. I curl up beside him, resting my head on his broad shoulder.

Logan nods, staring into a space filled with memories. “It’s bittersweet, isn’t it? One chapter ends, another begins. Cat’s growth… her independence… It’s what I wanted for her, but it’s strange for her to leave. Even Alessandra not being here is strange.”

I gently squeeze his hand. “Does it feel like the circus is coming apart?”

He glances back. “No. It’s strange but not in a bad way. It feels like we’re just making room. For whoever needs to hitch a ride at the next town.”

“That’s right,” he says, kissing my temple. “I’ve never thought much about the future before. There was only the next city, the next stop. Even next season seemed too long away to plan for. Now there’s so much to look forward to.”

“We might have a long time in the future,” I state. “But even so. Let’s not waste tonight,” I reply, my voice a low silk thread in the dimness of the RV. His eyes—dark and fathomless—trace the contours of my face as if committing every line to memory.

“Sunset,” he murmurs, a word that speaks volumes of the history we share, the scars we’ve earned, and the quiet understanding that has grown between us.

“Come with me.” I take his hand, leading him through the narrow corridor. My fingers tangle with his, the calluses of his palm speaking of labor, of dedication, of love—for the circus, for the performers, for me.

His lips find mine, his kiss electric with connection, with desire. It’s acknowledgment and need, a rawness that’s a sharp juxtaposition to the circus pageantry. Clothes become whispers falling away. Skin meets skin with the urgency of a storm breaking over the big top. His hands trace the lines of my body, reading the story written there—old bruises, old scars, old pain. New passion. A whole new life.

His hands slip between my legs, where I’m already wet for him.

“Yes,” I gasp, arching into him, feeling the raw power of his own need as he claims my lips again, deeper, possessive, as if he could rewrite my history with every touch, every kiss, erasing the chapters of pain and replacing them with verses of passion.

“Now,” he breathes against my neck, sending shivers down my spine that cascade into waves of heat pooling within me. Our movements are a dance of shadows and whispers, a ballet choreographed by instinct and longing.

Here, in the embrace of the man who helped me escape the tightrope walk of my past, I find my footing. Here, only two miles away from my childhood home, I let go of my fears, surrendering to the safety of his arms, the belonging I feel nestled against his heart.

We move together, a symphony of sighs and murmurs, our bodies telling stories of resilience and rebirth, of a shared life woven from the magic and the mundane of our circus—a refuge where even the most battered souls can find sanctuary, can transform, can soar.

And as we crest and tumble, as the world outside fades into irrelevance, I understand that this is our reality—gritty and beautiful, full of risks and rewards. In Logan’s embrace, under the canvas sky of our making, I am home.