her objections. When they heard others outside of the tent he would not be denied. Especially if this was going to be the one and only time he had her. In her arms the world didn’t exist and race didn’t matter. It was just feeling. What you felt is all that mattered. He fucked her. She fucked him. The world careened on its axis.
He shot off a continual stream of raw pleasure before once more collapsing in a haze of delirium. It was bliss. Buttercup was right. After he hitched out of the country, they’d never meet again. But the night with her like this made him want to pretend.
“Get up,” she whispered, alarm in her voice. “You have to get dressed. I’m tellin’ you, you can’t stay here. I’ma hide you, then talk to Tiny.”
He grunted through his final release, then withdrew. Stunned again from what she awakened in him, he managed to rise on shaky legs. She was intoxicating and stronger than the case of hooch he covered with leaves and branches in the forest. His dress movements were slow and awkward. The muscles in his body strained to regain control. He looked up to see she had put on a tattered dress. Gone was the allure of her costume. She was simply a girl, young, confused, trying to survive in a motherless world like him. Was that it? Was it why he felt so connected to her from just minutes of knowing her? He watched her pick up the wet stage dress and stockings as if they were delicate items and fold them neatly. Her hair was now a matted bush of tangles, but still he wanted to sink his fingers into the coarse strands. He longed to run his lips over the exposed nape of her neck. He wanted to whisper that life was hard for them all, but she was destined for more. That he had a feeling about her. “I think we can hide you over by the donniker.”
“The what?”
“Donniker,” she said, looking over at him and smiling. “The honeypot? Doncha’ know nuthin’?”
“You mean where you take a shit?” he frowned.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Stan’s tent is there. He and Lone Wolf are the last to turn in after the carnival closes. And no one ever goes over by the donniker now. While you wait, I find Tiny and explain your needs.”
“We got a problem, doll. Need to find my boy. Name is Jelly.”
Her thin brows drew together. She dropped her hands to her sides and gave him a puzzled look. Then her eyes lit with renewed understanding. “The fat kid that was with you. Right?”
“Yes, he’s waiting for me. Let me find him and…”
“No. If’in you leave without me, you won’t get back to me. The greenies are patrolling tonight. That mean sheriff Tuck always gives us problems at night. So everyone ready. Let me find your fat-boy friend.
First, we hide you, then I find him. Okay?”
Silvio smiled. “You think Tiny will help us get past the sheriff?”
She walked over to him. Her hands clasped behind her back, she rocked on the balls of her bare feet. “Tiny hate that sheriff too. I’ll explain it to him. You can trust me. He like my pa. He listens to me.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her over to him.
“Stick with me, babe. I promise to take you places.” He winked. She hit his shoulder playfully. Running in circles, she found her shoes and dusted the bottoms of her feet before slipping them on. Blowing him several kisses, she darted out of the tent. Silvio dropped down on the broken cot. He shifted and removed his gun that was in his pocket. Checking for the bullets, he put it back in. Buttercup was definitely his kind of girl.
Chapter Four
1932 Kentucky - Tiny’s Rules
Della was in luck. The carnival had drawn in most of the town. This meant patrols were heavy near the midway. It didn’t take her long before she found her warden. Peanut leaned against the Daisy twin's train car, his hat pulled down low over his brow. He tossed a dime piece in the air.
Peanut was one of the tallest and meanest roustys under Tiny’s employ.
Lone Wolf would often pick
He shot off a continual stream of raw pleasure before once more collapsing in a haze of delirium. It was bliss. Buttercup was right. After he hitched out of the country, they’d never meet again. But the night with her like this made him want to pretend.
“Get up,” she whispered, alarm in her voice. “You have to get dressed. I’m tellin’ you, you can’t stay here. I’ma hide you, then talk to Tiny.”
He grunted through his final release, then withdrew. Stunned again from what she awakened in him, he managed to rise on shaky legs. She was intoxicating and stronger than the case of hooch he covered with leaves and branches in the forest. His dress movements were slow and awkward. The muscles in his body strained to regain control. He looked up to see she had put on a tattered dress. Gone was the allure of her costume. She was simply a girl, young, confused, trying to survive in a motherless world like him. Was that it? Was it why he felt so connected to her from just minutes of knowing her? He watched her pick up the wet stage dress and stockings as if they were delicate items and fold them neatly. Her hair was now a matted bush of tangles, but still he wanted to sink his fingers into the coarse strands. He longed to run his lips over the exposed nape of her neck. He wanted to whisper that life was hard for them all, but she was destined for more. That he had a feeling about her. “I think we can hide you over by the donniker.”
“The what?”
“Donniker,” she said, looking over at him and smiling. “The honeypot? Doncha’ know nuthin’?”
“You mean where you take a shit?” he frowned.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Stan’s tent is there. He and Lone Wolf are the last to turn in after the carnival closes. And no one ever goes over by the donniker now. While you wait, I find Tiny and explain your needs.”
“We got a problem, doll. Need to find my boy. Name is Jelly.”
Her thin brows drew together. She dropped her hands to her sides and gave him a puzzled look. Then her eyes lit with renewed understanding. “The fat kid that was with you. Right?”
“Yes, he’s waiting for me. Let me find him and…”
“No. If’in you leave without me, you won’t get back to me. The greenies are patrolling tonight. That mean sheriff Tuck always gives us problems at night. So everyone ready. Let me find your fat-boy friend.
First, we hide you, then I find him. Okay?”
Silvio smiled. “You think Tiny will help us get past the sheriff?”
She walked over to him. Her hands clasped behind her back, she rocked on the balls of her bare feet. “Tiny hate that sheriff too. I’ll explain it to him. You can trust me. He like my pa. He listens to me.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her over to him.
“Stick with me, babe. I promise to take you places.” He winked. She hit his shoulder playfully. Running in circles, she found her shoes and dusted the bottoms of her feet before slipping them on. Blowing him several kisses, she darted out of the tent. Silvio dropped down on the broken cot. He shifted and removed his gun that was in his pocket. Checking for the bullets, he put it back in. Buttercup was definitely his kind of girl.
Chapter Four
1932 Kentucky - Tiny’s Rules
Della was in luck. The carnival had drawn in most of the town. This meant patrols were heavy near the midway. It didn’t take her long before she found her warden. Peanut leaned against the Daisy twin's train car, his hat pulled down low over his brow. He tossed a dime piece in the air.
Peanut was one of the tallest and meanest roustys under Tiny’s employ.
Lone Wolf would often pick
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