AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her eyes widen. “A real one?”
Spade nods. “A real one. Her name is Freedom. Would you like to meet her?”
“Yes,” she murmurs, and then without any more hesitation, she reaches up for him to help her.
Spade lifts her without strain and carries her out, all while telling her about the other animals he trains and works with. We’ll have to find her a wheelchair. I didn’t ask why she needed it, but something tells me she came to this place in it, and they treated her like trash.
“That’s all of them,” Club says as he comes around the corner. “We checked the whole house just in case. They are all outside, and I’ve already called the cirque. They are bringing out one of the trucks so we can take them all back.”
I nod and grab his hand. “Then let’s burn this place down.”
As we walk through the entryway, Diamond forces the warden to the base of the stairs. She’s tied up, her eyes wide and panicked now in a way they weren’t before. Heart giggles as he dumps the rest of his gasoline on top of her.
“Stop! You can’t do this! Someone help me!” she screams, struggling to free herself, but there isn’t much she can do while tied up with a broken arm.
Her cries make me smile, and when I step outside of the house, I see some of the children smiling at the sight too. This is for them.
Heart comes strolling out, but he leaves the front door open so we all get a good look at the warden as she screams and struggles. She’s framed like a fucking masterpiece.
“Who would like to do the honors?” Diamond asks, pulling out a box of matches.
At first, no one volunteers, but after a few seconds of silence, a boy limps forward. He’s probably sixteen, but my guesses are skewed due to their abuse. His eyes are hollow, and he’s covered in dirt, but he stands tall despite his limp as he takes the matches from Diamond. He pauses before the entryway, watching the warden scream.
Another child walks up and puts her hand on his shoulder, and then another, followed by another. Eventually, all of the children who are able to walk stand with him, offering comfort as he strikes the match.
“For Juliet,” he rasps, holding the match before him.
“For Juliet,” the children repeat, and then other names are voiced, honoring them—Molly, Darah, Brendon, William, Gary, and Veronica. The list goes on and on.
He throws the match. We watch the house go up in flames, the blaze rushing toward the warden. Her screams grow more shrill, more pained, as the entire place begins to burn. We view it together, the evil being engulfed by the inferno. We’re silent, listening to the crackling of the flames and the sudden, abrupt stop of the warden’s screams just as the truck pulls up.
“Time to go,” Diamond commands, turning to help the kids into the large trailer we usually use to transport animals. It’s not ideal, but there are so many of them, we couldn’t get them out quickly any other way.
The boy lingers as he watches the flames, but the others follow Diamond. I step up to rest my hand on his shoulder.
“Who’s Juliet?” I ask him, staring at the destruction.
“My sister,” he rasps before turning to look at me. There is something so broken and haunted in his gaze, it wrecks me. “She was my five-year-old sister.”
My chest squeezes. “I’m sorry we weren’t fast enough.”
“You got here,” he croaks. “That’s what matters.”
When he starts to cry, I wrap my arms around him, offering comfort as he lets it out. My own tears spill for him, for all of them, and for all they’ve lost. I hope we can help them and give them what they need.
As I assist him into the back of the trailer and climb up with them, I catch a glimpse of Heart running toward the fire with a bag of marshmallows in his hand. Some of the children giggle as he whoops and starts shoving them onto a stick.
“Who wants one?” he shouts. “Marshmallows for everyone!”
More smiles follow the giggles, and a part of me falls even more in love with the man, with all of them, as they gently help the children and take complete care to make them comfortable.
When they climb into the back of the trailer with us, Heart with his massive stick full of roasted marshmallows of various shades and Spade with the young girl in his arms, we settle in for the ride.
“Where are we going?” the boy closest to me asks, his cheeks still tear streaked. “Where are you taking us?”
“To the cirque,” I tell him. “We’ll help you get better, and then when you’re ready, you can choose to stay or go. Either way, you’ll be safe. We’ll make sure of it.”
He nods and then leans his head against my shoulder. “Thanks, ma’am,” he says, but the way he says it, it almost sounds like “Mom.” My hand flutters to my stomach. I’d almost been a mother once. How convenient that the cirque is giving me the opportunity to be one to these children.
