I kiss her lips lightly. “I won’t even leave the building tonight… But I’m not sure how late I’ll be working.”
“So I won’t see you.” Her voice is different, sad, and I don’t like it.
“I’ll try—”
We’re out of time. The music swells, and she moves out over the stage. Our eyes meet, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
Still, she sings out the notes, leaning into the act, beautiful as always.
As soon as she’s safely to the stage below, I’m down the ladder headed to the dark corridor from my first job. I remember the blood and Gavin’s instructions. I’m the guard.
The idea turns my stomach. I’m not sure I can guard if something illegal is happening, if someone’s being tortured or killed, but what can I do? Landry fucking welcomed me to the dark side on my first job. He’s well acquainted with my face and my name, and I know the point of that meeting was to send me a message. If I decide to turn on them, rat them out, or even not do what I’m told, they’ve got me right where they want me—with blood all over my hands and all of it on camera.
Gavin meets me at the entrance, quickly surveying my attire. “Good work. The men coming here expect the highest quality—in goods as well as atmosphere. They’ll show you their invitations. Check it and let them in.”
“What exactly is this?”
He pauses, and I can’t tell if he’s angry or deciding how to answer. “What happens here is an exclusive exchange for a very high fee.”
Again, I survey the hall, the doors leading to smaller rooms. Bedrooms. “What’s being exchanged?”
This time he’s annoyed. “Private performances. Don’t interrupt them no matter what you hear.” He starts to leave, then walks back to me. “In fact… it’s probably better if you stay outside.”
“Outside?” I look around for an exit sign.
He motions for me to follow him, and we go out the heavy metal door to the other side, the side under the stage. The vast, empty room below the trap doors. “I’ll have someone bring you a chair. The show’s over. They’ll be here soon.”
Automatically, my mind goes to Lara, and my stomach tightens. Will Freddie go to her room again? Will he protect her? Is he part of this?
My forehead tightens, and I acknowledge the truth. I thought I could take this job, stay close, make money, and be here with her, but I can’t. I have to get us out of here.
Buying these clothes obligates me to fulfill my commitment tonight, but I’m done. I’ll give them back, return them if I have to, and convince Lara to move in with me… and bring Molly with her. Whatever it takes.
A loud squeak and crash of metal door snaps my attention to the present. The first man appears, and he’s not alone.
“What’s with the cloak and dagger?” he laughs, and I detect an accent.
It’s northern, but not the nasal twang of the Midwest. It’s more rounded, Canadian or Pacific Northwest.
“Are you taking us down the rabbit hole, Guy?” Another voice, similar accent.
“Rabbit hole. Name for my next club.” The first man sounds intoxicated.
“My brother has a flair for the dramatic.” That voice is laced in Deep South.
They stop in front of me, and I stand straight, not smiling. I wait until the one with the copper hair and green eyes, the one wearing a gold pinky ring and carrying a shiny wooden cane holds out a black business card. It’s thick and shiny, and one phrase is in the center, embossed in gold lettering.
Under the Lights.
I’d expected something with VIP or Admit One stamped on it, but when I meet the fellow’s cold eyes, I know this is it. He’s sinister and challenging, and the good part inside me recoils.
“Something wrong?” His voice is hard, and I know he’s not really asking.
I step to the side for him to pass, but just as fast, I block the other two.
“Sorry…” Canada digs in his breast pocket and produces a similar scrap of paper.
“At least security is working.” Guy narrows his eyes at the third man, who hastily produces his card.
I stand down, and they pass through the door. Music drifts out from inside along with the faint scent of perfume. I realize there’s another entrance. The girls come in a different way…
The click of heels on concrete precedes two more men dressed in expensive suits, both carrying gold cards. I step to the side, and this time when I look through the door, I see Minette, one of the girls from the show.
She’s still wearing her costume, a glittering thong, and she’s draped over one of the couches allowing the Canadian to stroke her breasts.
I swallow the knot in my throat. Who else is back there? I can’t even think her name.
The door slams, and I’m left standing, fear expanding in my chest as vast as the empty space surrounding me. I step to the side, shoving my hands in my hair and trying to decide what to do. My forehead is against the wall when I hear a throat clearing.
Spinning around, I see a fat man in a tux waiting. He holds a card, and I nod for him to enter, which he does without hesitation. This time the noises have started, fake moans and bouncing cries.
It’s an orgy.
These men have paid to have sex with the girls in the show, and my job is to let it happen. Tanya’s words, Lara’s fears, even Terrence’s remark about why the crew dwindled so fast filter through my brain like rushing water. The blood I cleaned up—what the fuck was that about?
I drop into the metal chair, my head in my hands. I pull my phone out of my pocket. I want to call her, but she doesn’t have a phone. She says it’s a wasted expense. She doesn’t have anyone to call, and she doesn’t want to be monitored.
She’s getting one after this night.
The time passes slowly, and I wonder how long I’m expected to stay here. No one else is coming. No one other than the men in there and Gavin knows about this place. I’m pushing off my legs to leave when the door scrapes and opens.
Fake moans set to music filter out along with Guy. He’s on his phone, and his face is contorted with anger.
I listen to his words as he stalks past. “She is not what I requested,” he growls. “She is not a star. She’s a used-up drug addict. Give me what I want or—”
The exit door slams shut, and my throat knots.
I don’t like where this is headed.
13
“Your gut knows what’s up. Trust that bitch.”
Lara
“Did he kiss you?”
“Sort of,” Molly mumbles. “He wanted to talk to me backstage. So I went.”
Ice is in my throat. After my performance I raced to my room hoping to get my clothes on before Freddie arrived, and I found Molly sitting on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed, and her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist.
“What did he say?” My heart hammers against my ribs.
She takes a trembling breath. “He asked me to go with him to Atlanta. He said he missed me so much the last time. He wants me with him. Always.”
I go to the bed and sit beside her. “Did he say why he wants you with him?”
“To keep him company.” She picks up a little pillow, and her hands shake. “He says I please him.”
I catch her arms and turn her to face me. “But you’re afraid.”