Flesh Circus

EPILOGUE

I sat in the car for a while. My garage is narrow, but well-equipped. I considered putting the seat back and sleeping right there. I itched all over and would feel crusty in the morning, as well as dirty inside and out. And I’m accustomed to the weight of my weaponry, but sleeping in my guns was a bad idea.

Still, the thought had merit. Especially when I thought of the empty house, and—

The door to the house opened. I blinked as a slice of warm electric light fell across the car. The figure in the door was tall, broad-shouldered, and his shorn hair was starred with silver. He stepped down into the garage and came to the driver’s side, opened the door.

I shut my eyes. Tears rose.

Finally, he crouched down. His fingers touched my hair, brushed my cheek. He rubbed a little, dried blood crackling under sensitive fingertips.

“Jesus,” Saul said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out in a rush. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have—”

“Jill.” Kindly, quietly, calmly. “Shut up.”

I did.

His fingers circled my wrist, pulled gently. It was work getting out of the car, but he helped pull me upright. The door slammed, and he folded me in his arms. The sound of his pulse was a balm and blessing.

Are you staying? I couldn’t make myself say it. Don’t leave me. Dear God, please, don’t leave me.

“I just want you to do one thing,” he said into my filthy hair. I almost cringed.

Anything. Just stay with me. I stilled, waited.

“Just nod or shake your head. That’s all. Now listen, Jill. Do you still need me? Do you want me around?”

“I—” How could he even ask me that? Didn’t he know? Or was he saying that he felt obligated?

“Just nod or shake your head. I just want to know if you need me.”

It took all I had to let my chin dip, come back up in the approximation of a nod.

“Do you still want me?” God help me, did Saul sound tentative?

It was too much. “Jesus Christ.” The words exploded out of me. “Yes, Saul. Yes. Do you want me to beg? I will, if you—”

“Jill.” He interrupted me, something he barely ever did. “I want you to shut up.”

I shut up. For a few moments he just simply held me, and the clean male smell of him was enough to break down every last barrier. I tried to keep the sobs quiet, but they shook me too hard. The breeze off the desert rattled my garage door, and the last fading roll of thunder retreated.

He stroked my hair, held me, traced little patterns on my back. Cupped my nape, and purred his rumbling purr. When the sobs retreated a little, he tugged on me, and we made it to the door to the hall, moving in a weird double-stepping dance. He was so graceful, and I was too clumsy.

He lifted me up the step, got me into the hall, heeled the door closed. My coat flapped. My boots were heavy, the heels clicking against concrete. I probably needed to be hosed off.

I had to know. I dug in, brought him to a halt, but couldn’t raise my eyes from his chest. “A-are you s-s-still—” I couldn’t get the words out. I was shaking too hard.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he informed me. “I’m staying, Jill. As long as you’ll have me. I can’t believe you think I’d leave you.”

That did it. I broke down completely then, and as he half-carried me down the hall I cried. I couldn’t tell if I was crying for myself or for Arthur Gregory, or for the whole goddamn world.

Tomorrow night I would have to get up and do this all over again. Make sure the Cirque left town and find out what new mischief was brewing under the night skies. It never ended, this job.

It never would. And now I owed a loa a bullet, I had an apprentice to train, and Perry was looking to be trouble again. How long could I keep up mortgaging bits of myself?

As long as you can, Jill. As long as God lets you.

But for right now, Saul held me. My legs failed me and I went down in a heap. He went down with me, and he held me just inside the door to the living room. The first spatters of rain rang hard on the warehouse roof. I cried without restraint, and he held me.

We all Trade for something.

And God help me, it was enough. He was enough.

I just hoped I would always be enough for him.