Rosa jerks my corset, straightening it and sending pain shooting through my sides. I wince. “Look straight ahead,” she orders.
I look forward and she gathers my hair into a twist of large curls at the top of my head. On my shoulders, thin black feathers flow down and tickle the tops of my arms. With my hair up, the full effect of the ensemble is dazzling. It’s the most revealing, decorated costume I’ve ever seen.
Rosa frowns at me. “I don’t like it.”
“What?” I barely recognize myself. It’s like some beautiful woman with breasts has sneaked in and taken my place. “I think I look amazing.”
“You look so old.” She drops my hair. “It’s too soon.”
A knot is in my throat, but there’s no changing it. I step forward and pick up the box Freddie sent. I slide the white ribbon from around it and lift the barrette. The crystals send rainbow sparkles through the room when the light hits it, and I hold it up against the side of my head. Rosa looks over my shoulder.
“From Freddie?” she asks.
I nod, and her hands return to my hair, twisting it up and around again. “Hand it to me,” she says.
I pass it to her, and she attaches it in the side of my hair. “That’ll do. It’ll encourage him to see you wearing it during your performance.”
She seems happier, and I give her a sad little smile. I never realized Rosa cared about what happened to me, and if I leave this place, I know I’ll never see her again. I turn to embrace her in the quiet sadness now filling the room. We’re interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Rosa steps back to open it, and my eyes rise to meet… beautiful blue.
“Roland sent me to…” Mark’s voice cuts off as he takes in my appearance. Then it drops to a whisper. “You look—”
“I’ll check on Molly,” Rosa steps to the side and pushes past him out the door.
She’s gone, and we’re alone in my room. His reaction makes my stomach tighten, tingling heat rises up my thighs, centering in my core. I look away, reaching for the barrette and unfastening it from my hair. One tug and a dark curtain falls across my hot-pink cheeks and exposed breasts.
Mark’s breath is audible. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
My shoulders tremble. I want him to see me—I want only him to see me—but I’m not used to the power of my body. I’m intimidated by its effect on men.
Blinking up, our eyes meet, and his are dark, drinking in my breasts, my legs, my bare pussy hidden behind the dark heart.
“I wish…” His voice trails off.
My voice is barely audible. “What do you wish?”
Navy eyes blink to mine, and the hunger there makes my knees weak. “I wish you were mine. Only mine. I wish I could touch you. I wish I was a rich man, so I could take you far from here.”
“Only fools make wishes here.”
His head moves side to side, and he smiles. “Oh, beautiful girl, I’d trade being a fool here with you for a lifetime anywhere else.”
I don’t have a response to that, but he doesn’t give me a chance.
“I’d hoped to see you last night,” he continues. “I wanted to see you.” His expression is different, changed.
“I was tired.” It’s all I’ll say, not that I was defeated and sad and dreaming of him taking the pain away.
“I’ll see you tonight.” Calm certainty is in his tone as if a decision has been made, a promise.
Our eyes meet, and heat fills me at what’s to come, what I’ve been longing for. I only have time for a nod when the door opens, and Rosa enters my small room.
“They’re dimming the lights. It’s time to get to your marks.” She plants a thick hand on Mark’s chest and pushes him out the door, closing it.
“He’s a sweet boy,” she mutters. “Now face me.”
I don’t answer. I’m too dazzled by his words, his promise, my beating heart. She dusts my entire body with a large pink brush, and the faintest highlight covers my skin.
“What do you think about him?” she asks.
“Who?” I try to pretend my thoughts are elsewhere.
“I said that Mark seems like a sweet boy,” she repeats staring at my face.
“I owe him my life.” I step off the platform, aware she isn’t convinced, but she pulls open the door and lets me escape without another word.
It’s time for me to head to my place and assume the position as star of the finale.
The finale in which I descend from above, the dark angel singing out over the audience.
On that swing.
I race through the sticky rosin, the talc-filled air, past the low murmur of dancers warming up, to the narrow metal ladder against the back wall in the wings. I ignore the hollow stabs of pain hitting my middle whenever I move and once I’m there, I look up.
No robe covers me tonight. My body is bare except for the strategically placed jewels and feathers, and it’s time to climb. Rosa stops me before I begin, patting the tiny beads of sweat away from my hairline with a tissue, following quickly with a cone-shaped purple sponge.
“Freddie’s sitting stage right,” she says, re-fastening the barrette in the side of my head. “Turn your head so he sees it.”
I nod, ready to hurry up the ladder, but as I climb, everything slows down.
I don’t understand what’s happening.
I’m in perfect shape for climbing a ladder, but the higher I go, the harder it is to breathe. It’s like a fist is tightening around my throat.
By the time I reach the top, I’m gasping and shaking all over. My body is covered with a cold sheen of sweat and pain grips my chest. I can’t move. Mark is waiting for me, ready to help me into my seat. But all I can do is stand there and grip the rope, paralyzed by fear.
He takes one look at my face and seems to understand immediately what’s happening. He quickly comes to where I stand shivering and reaches for me with his still-bandaged hand.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Take my hand.”
My wide eyes lock on his, just visible in the dim light so high above the dancers.
“I… I don’t understand.” I can’t explain the panic I feel, why I can’t catch my breath. It’s more than nerves or stage fright. It’s something far more powerful.
“Look at me,” he says, holding both my hands. “Breathe.”
My chest is tight, but I try to do as he says.
“Vanessa has done it twice. I personally double-checked everything an hour ago. It’s not going to break.”
I hold his hands, and I can feel the strength that caught me when I fell. I believe him, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate.
“I won’t let you fall, Lara.”
I look into his eyes and focus on taking in air and pushing it out. I study his hands, and I remember him holding me, his wishes, his promise to protect me. Since the accident, since our day on the levee, since every other time he’s been with me, I realize we’re on the edge of something more, something bigger than this place.
My body calms as my mind filters through these thoughts, as I hold his gaze, and even though my heart beats fast, it’s no longer from panic.
It’s something very different.
It’s waves crashing on the sparkling sand.
It’s the kiss of moonlight on a still lake.
It’s the most natural thing in the world.