When the beat dropped, I collapsed to the floor. A man gasped and lurched to his feet, thinking I had fallen by accident. I glanced over my shoulder with a panicked expression, every move calculated and dramatic. As I did this, I stood up and pulled at the chain, spinning under it and combining dance moves with an artistic interpretation of a woman in peril. My unkempt hair caressed my body with each sultry turn.
I climbed the pole in search of escape, turning upside down and locking my long legs. Once I had a good grip with my hands, I slowly spread my legs and then swung around, twirling off the pole. The beat sounded like native drums, and I frantically gathered up the chain as the shadows shifted and changed on the curtain.
A predator moved into sight—the silhouette of a black panther.
I looked upon the men with smoldering eyes, drawing them in. The next thing I knew, men were getting out of their chairs to put money in my boxes but also to inch closer to the stage. The bouncers continued pushing them back to their seats, but the men were riveted.
A Chitah’s fangs punched out—top and bottom—and a bouncer forced him away from the stage before he flipped his switch and went primal. Luckily, his eyes were still golden. I paid closer attention to how the crowd was responding since I’d never performed this act before and didn’t want to incite a riot.
I fell to my knees and arched my back, letting the chain slip between my legs. The beat intensified and I pulled myself up, swinging hard around the pole. After the music reached a crescendo, it fell quiet. Just long enough that a growl ripped through the air and sent a chill up my spine. It was just sound effects, but maybe the intense reaction from the crowd had me on edge. When I sexily approached them, the lights shut out and the panther snarled.
A dim, lustrous red light enveloped me—a foreboding symbol of blood and death. I slid along the polished floor, turning and struggling against an invisible force.
All I could see were bills flying into my boxes and onto the stage. The men were entranced, and I felt like a woman reborn. I’d finally broken away from my gimmicky acts and struck a chord with the audience in a completely artistic way.
My heart raced when I saw a man in black approaching me from offstage wearing a ski mask that only revealed his eyes and mouth. I furrowed my brows. As the man neared, my heart galloped in my chest when I stared into a set of blue eyes.
Panic set in. The beat intensified, the crowd held their breath, and I fumbled with the chain in a feeble attempt to free my hand. It was only plastic—but hard plastic, and there was a trick to getting the shackle undone.
The men in the audience thought it was part of the act. I wanted to yell for help, but they wouldn’t believe me, or even worse, it could start a riot and erupt in a fight. I swallowed hard and backed up toward the pole.
“Wheeler?” I called out, looking toward the back of the room. Surely this man wouldn’t do anything stupid in front of all these people. I didn’t see Wheeler, and that’s when my panic ripened into a dark emotion.
I grabbed the pole with both hands and kicked him in the chest. The men cheered, some of them slapping their hands on the tables. Whether or not this was a joke, I wasn’t taking any chances.
The masked man stood up and rushed me. The next thing I knew, he gripped my hair so hard that I screamed. A strobe flickered in front of my eyes from a slender instrument…
And my panther emerged.
Chapter 9
I clenched my teeth around something hard and splintery. As I blinked a few times, I realized I was coming out of a shift. I was also chewing on a wooden leg that belonged to a coffee table. I scooted back and picked a wood chip out of my mouth.
Where am I? The last thing I remembered was dancing… and a man forcing me to shift. Oh my God, the memories were rushing back. When the crowd laid eyes on my panther, it was pandemonium. Thankfully, the shackle around her paw had given the customers enough time to escape. She’d fled the stage, panicked by the movement and shouting. I’d struggled to regain control but had lost the battle.
I wiped my mouth and quickly sat up, my hands trembling. The first thing I noticed was the smell. Fresh varnish mixed with pine. The floors and walls were all wood, and there were no windows. A giant flat-screen television hung on the wall ahead of me, behind me was a brown sofa. Beyond the sofa was a bed in what looked like an extension of the room.
“Hello?”
My legs felt like bags of cement as I struggled to stand. I smacked my lips when a specific food craving suddenly ripped through me, creating a gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach.
“Clothes would be nice,” I murmured, glancing around in search for something to cover up with. I snatched the green chenille throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it around me.