The axe split him open, dropping him like a puppet with cut strings. I wrenched it free and swung again, this time at the second clown. The blade met his hand, slicing clean through. He screamed together with her, just as I roared back.
The next strike buried deep in his shoulder, near the neck. His voice gurgled out with his blood.
He tried to crawl away. I raised the axe and brought it down, burying it in his shoulder, cutting through his throat. He gurgled, choking on his own blood, and went still.
I let the axe fall and ran to her.
She was twisted in the red fabric, and as I was by her side, I unfolded it from her legs and caught her as she fell into my hands.
Her eyes were swollen with tears. She stood there, still, looking down at me. Frozen. She didn’t blink.
“Hey,” I said, pressing my palms to her cheeks, tapping gently, but she didn’t move.
My hand slid to her shoulders.
“Doll, say something.” I shook her once, harder. “Chiara,” I whispered. “Hey.”
I stepped back, staring at her.
I finally got what I wanted. Another broken doll. But not her. I didn’t want her to be like this.
“Fuck it,” I muttered under my breath, grabbed her, cupped her face, and crashed my mouth against hers.
The kiss hit hard, left me breathless. My tongue twisted withhers, and even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t kiss anyone again, I broke that promise with her. And it was worth it.
She lifted her hands to my neck, pulling me closer, kissing me back.
I lowered her to the ground, still tasting her, our mouths clashing, tongues tangling. My fingers worked down the laces of her corset, loosening it until it fell away. Her breasts were bare, warm against my palms. I ran my hand up, cupping her, the other sliding to her hip, pulling her closer.
She broke the kiss for a second, her gaze locking on mine. Her hand came up, brushing my face, before she kissed me again.
And I didn’t want to stop. Not for a single second.
When footsteps approached outside the tent. She froze, her fingers caught in my hair.
“We should go hide,” she whispered. “They work for the Circle.”
I looked up. Above us, the trapeze strings still hung, wooden balconies with ladders were high over the ground.
“How about up?” I whispered, my lips brushing hers before I kissed her again.
She rose, still kissing me, moving slowly, almost forgetting I had just killed two people in front of her. As she walked toward the ladders, I turned to the bodies. I dragged the dead clowns to the water barrels once used for the elephants, shoving them under until they sank down in the water.
Then I went after her.
She was already climbing, her hips swaying, her ass perfect under the light. At the top, she turned, sat down, and pulled her thong from her hips. She tossed it down at me, biting her lip.
I knew I shouldn’t fuck yet. The tattoo on my cock was still fresh, the skin still healing. But I wanted her anyway.
I climbed up, spreading her legs as she lay back. Her skirt fell open around her, and I brushed the hair from her forehead.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting soft,” she whispered against my mouth, her lip caught between her teeth.
“Shh,” I said, chuckling. “Don’t tell anyone.”
She moaned softlyand kissed me again. “You’ll have to fuck me until I forget,” she said, laughing under her breath.
I lifted her leg with my knee, pressing into her, but then I rolled us over. She ended up on top, breathless, eyes dark. She slid off her skirt, grabbed the trapeze bar above, and moved toward the edge.
