Page 5 of Two For the Show (Trapped On The Tightrope Duet #2)

Travis narrows his eyes at Jude in challenge. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bossman.”

Jude shrugs, leaning back on his desk with a level of false casualness that I only notice because we’ve done this song and dance before. “I’ve been told you had a problem with us having an Omega on the staff.”

“Yeah, of course I did. This is a fuckin’ Alpha circus.

” He pointedly glares at me from where I sit behind Jude’s desk.

Not everyone here was happy for a Beta to be part of an act.

‘The All-Alpha Circus’ used to be one of the circus’s selling points, and they had to rebrand when I became a permanent part of the show.

It doesn’t matter now, because my act with Quinton is a huge draw. Me being a Beta hasn’t hurt a thing.

When our showrunner first suggested I be the one present for these interrogations, I balked. Wouldn’t he prefer someone a bit more intimidating, like Dexter? Hell, even Quinton, despite how aloof he appears all the time, would be a more logical choice.

But Jude insists that my calming, Beta pheromones are what he wanted backing him up, so he didn’t lose his cool. It doesn’t hurt that I have an excellent nose for sniffing out lies.

“I’m wanting to make sure it won’t be a problem if I hire another Omega for the position,” Jude continues. “I don’t know why she left, but we can’t keep running through doctors like this.”

He scoffs. “I don’t know why you’d want to hire one. It’s not like an Omega could be a good doctor, anyway. Wouldn’t trust her to treat my hemorrhoids.”

My ears perk up. Didn’t this all start with someone trolling Alex via text about hemorrhoids? I can see by the minute flex of Jude’s hand that he’s picked up on that too, and I hope he plows forward with more finesse than a bull.

“Eh, they all go through the same training,” Jude says dismissively. I almost believe his nonchalance, it’s that good. Who knew our illustrious leader was an actor? “I’m not concerned about qualifications.”

“I’m not one to question your decision-making, you know that, but hiring the Omega was a bad choice.

She did us a favor by leaving.” The smarmy Alpha reclines a bit in his chair, not realizing how unsafe he is in this room.

I absently rub at the bite mark under my ear.

I’ve had to hide it with a bandage since she left.

Only Trevor knows about it, since he found her puking after it happened, and he knows to keep his mouth shut.

We don’t want the whole troupe to know that I bonded Alex. It would raise too many questions, now that she’s gone.

“She did us a favor?” Jude asks slowly.

Travis doesn’t let up. “Hell yeah, she did! An Omega in heat would have fucked shit up here, boss. It was a mistake to hire her, but lucky for us, you can rectify it now. ”

Jude narrows his eyes and props his hip up on the corner of his desk. “And how do you suggest I do that?”

Travis runs his hand over his buzzed blonde hair. “Hire an Alpha doctor, of course. Eventually, some of the guys wouldn’t have been able to control themselves around her, and I’m sure a circus full of dudes in rut not something you would’ve wanted to deal with. Trash took itself out.”

The dead Alpha walking pushes to his feet and smooths his shirt down his lean stomach. “We done here? I need to get to Chet so we can run sound and light checks.”

“Yeah, we’re done here,” Jude says sharply.

After Travis slams the door behind him, my boss turns on me with tight lips. “He’s part of this, isn’t he?”

“I’d put money on it.”

“So, who do we have this narrowed down to?” he asks, crossing to the kitchen and grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge.

Jude hands me one, and I crack it open before answering him. “Travis, Chet, and Elvis.”

Elvis was a surprise to me. He’s one of our roadies, very soft spoken and has never made any waves. He was so nervous when Jude questioned him that I have little doubt that even if he wasn’t directly involved, he knew what happened.

Travis and Chet, though? I’m not surprised.

“Alright. Then we get them all together and put the pressure on them. Or we tail them and see if they meet up. Let them hang themselves. But we need to know for certain that the threat has been removed or she’ll never come back.”

He pulls out his phone and starts swiping at the screen. I have no doubt he’s looking at more news articles and blog posts about the “devastating” disappearance of Dr. Alex Shields .

Jude has tortured himself with articles about her. They talk about her, her schooling, her career, all in the past tense, like it’s all but a foregone conclusion that she’s dead.

“You know she was a flautist in the high school marching band?” he says. “And she was on the debate team.”

“Did you find her yearbook or something?”

He turns the phone around so I can see the screen.

“No, people who knew her are coming out of the woodwork to talk about her. She’s been missing for months now, and while it’s still too early to presume that she’s dead, the media is saying that the outlook is abysmal.

So everyone is going on and on about this woman that they knew fifteen years ago.

” He runs his fingers through his hair as he stores his phone in his pocket.

“Want to know the weirdest thing, Matteo? There’s not one talking about who she is now.

Not a single friend said they knew something was up when she missed brunch, or anything like that. She must have had no friends.”

I slump down on the couch, and he follows me, draining his water bottle. “Why do you think that is?”

“My sister doesn’t have friends,” Jude tells me softly. “That’s what abusers do. They isolate you from your friends and family, so you feel like you have nowhere to go but into their arms. But it’s not a quick process. How did no one notice?”

“She worked a lot, right? Med school, internship, residency, and then the stress of being an emergency doctor. I feel like that’s a lot of hours and doesn’t lend itself to many friends anyway.”

He crumbles the water bottle in his hands. “I fucking hate that she got the guts to leave an abusive situation, and she ran right into another one here.”

“You decide what you want to do with the guys?” I ask cautiously. I was surprised at the bloodthirsty nature Dario possessed, and though I’m not worried Jude will suddenly turn into a murderer, he’s been on edge since Rich showed up a month ago.

Our Prime Alpha buries his face in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, honestly. What will send a message that this isn’t okay without sending me to jail?”

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry about them pressing charges no matter what we do, since we know they assaulted her. They’re going to want to protect their own asses, right?”

“We have no proof. We don’t even have a complaining victim,” Jude reminds me. “So if I beat the snot out of them, what’s to stop them from going to the police?”

I shrug and stand up from the couch. “No idea. But we’ve got to figure something out.”

I don’t bother knocking on the door to Quinton’s trailer. Letting myself in, I’m immediately choked by the fog of marijuana smoke.

“Q!” I call out, making my way to the closed bedroom door. “Dude, I thought you were sticking with edibles?”

When I throw open the door, I find my partner sprawled out on the bed with one of Alex’s shirts thrown over his face. He collected them out of her trailer and has been cycling through them since.

My Alpha is shirtless and looking thinner than he has in a while. His hip bones jut up enough that his jeans gape open over his pelvis .

“Teo,” he says, though it’s slightly muffled. “What’d you find out?”

“We’ve got suspects,” I say dismissively. I’m not as concerned about updating him on our progress as I am about making sure he’s not spiraling. “Are you okay?”

“Bad day.” He reaches for me, and I climb onto the bed, pulling him into my arms. The fact that he’s admitting that is a huge deal. Most of the time, he tries to conceal how deeply he is affected by her absence.

I’m not sure why he feels the need to do that. None of us are doing well, and we wouldn’t begrudge his struggle. I cannot imagine how hard it must be for him to start feeling better, to have his Rot recede, only for it to come back in full force like it has.

My Alpha buries his face in my neck and groans as he rubs his nose along my scent gland. “So fucking good.”

Since bonding with Alex, my scent has changed, as my pheromones have morphed to include some of her markers. My whole life, I’ve always smelled buttery, salty, and sweet, like kettle corn, but since she gave me her bond, I’ve also taken on hints of chocolate, giving me a more pastry-like scent.

Quinton loves it, and I think it helps some of the symptoms of his Rot. Not as much as it would if she were here, but way more than my Beta scent did on its own.

“I need you,” he whispers against my ear. “Bad.”

He’s been using sex to hide his broken heart.

Out of all of them, I think Quinton is dealing with Alex’s disappearance the worst. He blames himself since he was the last one to see her.

He says he should’ve stopped the show and gone to her, but that’s his retrospective Alpha thought process pushing through his logical brain.

He had no reason to suspect that she would leave.

I’m trying not to let him bury himself in sex, but I know it helps him feel better and forget for a little, so I give in more than I should. A good partner would force him to talk about it, to work through his complex feelings.

I love him too much to let him hide himself away right now.

“Q, I’m worried about you.”

He nuzzles into my neck and takes a deep inhale, nipping at my skin. “Don’t worry about me, just fuck me, Teo.”

I push him away and grab his chin, forcing him to look into my eyes. “You can’t continue like this, Quinton. She wouldn’t want this for you.”

“Well, she’s not here, is she? She can’t be upset about what I need to do to plug the hole her absence left!” He rolls away from me, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the ceiling. “I’m doing the best I can, Teo.”

“I know you are, baby,” I say, curling up into his side. “But we’re so close. So close to making this place safe for her so that we can get her back. You have to hang on a little bit longer.”

“Okay,” he says, but he sounds defeated. “I can hang on. I can do this.”

“Is your pain that bad?” I thread my fingers through his. “This place smells like a concert in the desert.”

“No, it’s… I’m fine. It’s more my brain than anything.”

I’m not sure I believe him. Part of me thinks he’s hiding how much he’s hurting from me, so I don’t worry.

He’s a fool. I’m always going to worry about him. That’s what love is. You worry about the people you love.

It doesn’t take long before he’s snoring, clinging to me in his sleep as if he’s afraid I will run. I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this. He’s wasting away in front of me, and the only cure feels further away than ever.