Page 41 of Two For the Show (Trapped On The Tightrope Duet #2)

The show finishes with the motorcycle crew in the Globe of Steel. Yeah, I’m glad Jude put his foot down about me standing in the middle of that. I’d have pissed myself.

As Jude thanks the audience for coming, the twins, Quinton, Matteo, and I walk forward, heads held high, and flank him.

“What you’ve seen here tonight isn’t a normal night at the circus,” our Prime Alpha says, wrapping his arm around my waist. “This is the formal introduction of my pack to the world. Everything you may have heard about Dr. Alex Shields and her disappearance is a lie. Consider this our bonding party, which we’ve decided to share with everyone.

From here on out, I am no longer Jude Oliver. ”

I spin and stare at my Alpha. What is he saying?

“I am not Dario Reynolds.”

“Nor am I Dexter Reynolds.”

The twins cross their arms smugly and raise their eyebrows at my confused expression .

“I didn’t much care about being Quinton Black, honestly,” my Rotten Alpha says with a cheeky grin.

Matteo kneels in front of me, taking my hand in his. “Matteo Veracruz is a fine name, Doc, but I much prefer the sound of Matteo Shields.”

It takes a moment for his words to register, but when they do, tears gather in my eyes, and I have to bite my lower lip to keep them from falling.

Culturally, we don’t have any hard and fast rules on naming packs. Some keep their original surnames and hyphenate them with a common name. Most take the name of the Prime Alpha as the pack name.

But not my pack of misfits.

I should’ve known they’d do things a little differently.

“Presenting, Pack Shields!” Trevor’s lightly accented voice crows from behind us. I turn around and watch as the entire troupe enters the ring, forming a half circle around us.

It’s cheesy. Super cheesy, over-the-top, and theatrical. It’s a performance.

But it means so much to me that I lose the battle with restraining my tears and let them fall.

Jude leans down and presses a kiss to my temple. “That’s our show, everyone. Goodnight.”

“That was quite a performance,” Warner Bradley says tightly. “You certainly got your point across.”

We’re sitting in the stands, Quinton on one side of me and Dario on the other, Dexter and Jude in the row behind me, and Matteo on Quinton’s other side .

Warner Bradley is handsome, with pale skin covered in freckles and a shock of red hair. He’s bonded, but even if I didn’t know that from researching his career, I would still be able to tell.

While Alphas and Betas who have an Omega bond them have a change in their scents, Omegas retain their original scent.

However, there is something instinctual in all of us that allows us to recognize a bonded Omega, regardless of how many partners they have.

It warns others to proceed with caution, because that Omega has someone on their side.

He has a pleasant scent that reminds me of key lime pie, but it has a rough edge to it at the moment. Something about it smells artificial, like a jelly bean meant to approximate the real dessert.

It doesn’t give me good feelings, honestly.

“We wanted to make sure everyone knew how safe she is with us, that she wants to be here, and that we’re Alex’s pack.

We’re not going anywhere, regardless of what those cunts say.

” Jude’s voice drips disdain, and it gets me so hot that I have to dig my fingers into my thighs to keep from jumping over the back of my seat and grinding against him.

I love it when he gets all growly and passionate.

“And you thought the best way to do that was to drag her around by her hair?”

Okay, so when he puts it that way, we may have gone a little overboard.

“To be fair, it was her idea,” Quinton says, pointing at me. “She learned how to deal with it without much pain after being yanked around by it by those assholes.” I love how none of them will say the name of the men who tormented me .

Bradley blanches. “Are you saying she had you recreate an act from her abusers?”

I rub my hand down my face. “I’m too tired to give you a lecture about how domination and submission can be healing for a victim of abuse.

You can search on the internet and find a ton of research about it.

Haven’t you ever heard about rewriting a narrative?

It’s all about rewiring your brain to take something that was once a traumatic and painful event, and making it a memory of something good.

” I can’t keep the smirk off my face. “Would you like to go the rest of your life without getting your hair pulled during sex?”

The Designation Director turns bright red, and he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

I knew he was a freak in bed. The quiet ones always are.

“Be that as it may,” he says not unkindly. “This may have hurt your case more than helped it. They will most likely try to argue that a circus like this is no place for an Omega, and honestly, a lot of the country is going to agree with them.”

I try to look at the circus objectively, and I can’t see it the way he does. In my eyes, this is a place where people who had no other home found one, where artists with incredible skill have come together to entertain people day in and day out.

“Do you?” I challenge the other Omega. “Do you agree with them?”

He sighs. “Of course not. I can see the love between all of you. However, that doesn’t change the fact that this is highly unusual and a situation that many people will not understand.

We Omegas are so rare, and female ones more so, which makes a lot of people think that it’s our duty to be and act a certain way.

The idea of letting an Omega fall from the ceiling or get knives thrown at her is going to make a lot of people feel ill.

I don’t need to tell you, Dr. Shields, that there is a very loud contingent of America that thinks Omegas are to be protected. ”

“Controlled, you mean,” Dexter snaps. “Because we can argue all fucking day that not a single person protected Alex. She needed protection from the people who swore to the government that they had her best interests at heart. They didn’t, but we do.

She’s everything to us. We would never let anything happen to her. ”

Jude’s phone rings loudly.

“Who’s calling you this late?” Dario asks, turning halfway in his seat to look at the showrunner.

“It’s the forwarding service for the circus’s main line,” Jude says. He shakes his head and presses the decline button. It starts ringing again immediately.

I have a horrible feeling about this, and I share that with everyone.

Bradley scrunches his face up. “Answer it. Put it on speakerphone.”

Jude doesn’t like taking orders from someone else, and I can see him holding his tongue from arguing. But he swallows it down and presses the accept button. Before he says anything, a sickeningly familiar voice fills the tent.

“I want to speak to my Omega.”

The voice that used to bring me so much comfort now has me feeling like I am going to crawl out of my skin. Rich’s tone is so level, so reasonable, that it’s hard to believe he’s the same man who held my arms down as his packmate climbed on top of me.

“You don’t have an Omega,” Jude says roughly. He may not know which of the pack it is, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to let them near me.

“Alex? Are you there, sweetie? ”

Bile rises in my throat, and I scramble backward, basically climbing into Quinton’s lap. He wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face in the crook of my neck. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers against my skin. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

“You don’t have to answer. But you know that I’m coming for you. I won’t let them keep you.”

If the words were on paper, they may sound reassuring, like the scene in a movie or book when the heroine is kidnapped and the hero finally gets a message to her, swearing that he’ll get her back and that she can’t lose hope.

Rich’s words are the opposite.

Every time he speaks, I lose a little bit more hope.

How is anyone going to believe me when I tell them what he and his pack did to me? I took photos of some of the abuse, but I had to leave my phone behind, and I lost access to them. Even if I did still have it, they would be easy enough for those three to explain away.

I never told anyone. No one can back up my story.

“Try and take her from us,” Dexter thunders. “Just fucking try it, douchebag.”

“I don’t have to try. I have documentation from the governor approving her extradition from California to Florida on grounds of diminished intellectual ability caused by Foresaken Omega Syndrome.”

I scramble out of Quinton’s lap and barely make it in time before I puke over the railing, bile splattering the floor of the tent.

But Rich isn’t done.

“She checked out of a hospital after receiving her diagnosis against medical advice, which she never would have done, since she knows how important it is to complete treatment as a doctor herself. He will contact the Designation Department, and they will come to collect her to return her to us soon. You can’t run anymore, Alex. ”

My head spins.

I’m struggling to support myself, my knees buckling as I clutch onto the railing so tightly my fingers hurt.

“Dr. Smith,” Bradley says, making an educated guess about which pack member is on the phone.

His voice is firm and professional, and I fucking hate it.

I hate him. He shouldn’t be here. Why is he here, with my pack?

“My name is Warner Bradley, and I am the Designation Director of California. Please send that paperwork directly to me.” He rattles off his email address.

“Done. I expect my Omega on the first flight out.”

The line goes dead right as Bradley’s phone chimes with the incoming message.

Matteo’s arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, whispering calming words.

They don’t do any good.

My head hurts.

My vision is blurry.

I want to leave. I need to leave.

I feel like I am crawling out of my skin. I want to scream, to rage, to throw shit.

I will never be safe.

I will never be free.

I just got my pack and I am going to lose them all, thrown back into the arms of my abusers.

My head hurts.

My chest hurts.

“Well?” Jude barks. “What the fuck does it say?”

Bradley has the decency to look ashamed. “I don’t have a choice. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry ?

What does he have to be sorry for?

“What are you saying?” Dario snaps, an anger like I’ve never heard wrapping around every word he says.

“I’m saying that I have no choice but to comply with this order. She has to return to Pack Smith.”

When his words hit me, it is a physical blow. My back arches, and I scream.

Not a fearful, pained scream.

One of pure fury.

I throw myself out of Matteo’s arms and land on my hands and knees in the risers, crawling to the steps.

I’m falling apart.

I’m not going back to them.

I’m never going back.

I’ll kill myself before I ever let them touch me again.

When I finally manage to push myself to my feet, I lock eyes with Warner Bradley.

This Omega is trying to take my pack from me.

He is going to hand me over to my abusers and not think about me ever again.

Well, I’d like to see him fucking try.