Her eyes met mine. “I’m not sure I trust him now.”
“Why?” She blushes and looks down. I shake her arms. “What happened?”
She moves a strawberry-blonde lock behind her shoulder to reveal a blood-red mark on her neck.
“He did that?” I gasp.
She nods slowly. “And he said he likes the color of my hair.”
I bite my lip. “Okay?”
She blinks fast. “Not this hair…” She looks down, wrapping an arm across her waist. “Then he touched me.”
My stomach roils. I have to swallow acid in my throat. She’s only thirteen. Fear is replaced by a rage I’ve never felt before. I almost can’t breathe for the hatred coursing through me. I stand and begin to pace our small room.
“Don’t ever go near him again.” She’s still looking down, and I can’t tell if she’s listening. I go to the bed and grip her arms, giving her a little shake. “Listen to me. If you see him, you run away. Run to me or to Evie. Or Mark.”
“But how can you—”
A brisk knock at the door interrupts us. “Go behind the screen,” I whisper, quickly pulling my dressing gown over my half-naked body.
A giant bouquet of red roses meets me before my devoted fan. “You get better with every performance,” he says as I lift the heavy roses from his arms. “And you sing with such emotion.”
I put them on the table and return to him, leaning against the doorjamb as my mind swirls with panic, anger, and desperation.
Freddie leans forward to kiss my cheek. “Darling,” he starts then pauses. “I suppose you’d expect me to feel this way. I mean, if you knew me at all.”
“What is it?”
Fear, my constant companion, prickles at my back. Has he discovered the truth? Has he learned I’m a penniless orphan, many of the dancers are prostitutes, and to make matters even more complicated, I’m responsible for a waif who has become the target of a child predator? Oh, God, I can’t lose Freddie now…
His voice lowers. “These visits after your shows are nice, and kissing an angel is a little piece of heaven.” His dark eyes twinkle. “But I’d like more. I’d like to take you out on a real date. Would you go with me?”
Relief hits me with such force, I almost grab him around the neck in a massive hug. In the time it takes me to recover, Freddie immediately starts backpedaling.
“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I’m sure you have a lot of men in love with you, and you only know me from my visits. You have no idea I only want—”
“Freddie,” I say, gazing at his lips. “I would love to go out with you sometime. What did you have in mind?”
His eyes move to mine, and I blink slowly. “Would you have lunch with me tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow would be perfect.”
He lets out a laugh before catching me around the waist and pressing his mouth to mine. I’m caught off guard, and while it’s not much of a kiss, I notice the front of his pants harden.
He steps back, pulling his coat over his semi and clearing his throat. “Your lips are so soft.”
I make my voice breathless, pretending to be overwhelmed. “And yours are so warm!”
“Tell me where you live. I’ll pick you up at noon.”
“Oh, no… I mean, I have morning rehearsal. You can meet me out front here.”
His grin is huge, and he leans forward again. I hesitate, not really wanting to kiss him, but not sure what else to do. Roland said to keep him coming back…
When our mouths meet this time, I allow him to part my lips. He holds me tighter, his tongue timidly touches mine, and I literally feel nothing. I think about tastebuds. His kiss tastes like peppermint candy.
When Mark kisses me, it’s like I’m swept up in a wave on the ocean, swirling and spinning, unsure which way is up.
Freddie finally finishes, and he smiles as if we now share a secret. When he speaks, his voice is low. “Kissing you is a dream come true for me. Does this mean you think of me as more than just a devoted fan?”
“Freddie,” I touch his arm. “I’ve always thought of you as more than that.”
The expression on his face is utter delight. “Goodnight, my dear. I’m counting the minutes until tomorrow.”
Forcing a smile, I lean against the doorjamb, watching him disappear down the passage. Once he’s gone, I close my door and roll my back to the wall. Dropping my head in my hands, I rub my forehead with my fingers and try to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do.
Mark… I need to talk to Mark about all of this. Only, what am I going to say to him? I’m not qualified to do anything except sing. I can’t dance for shit. The only reason people come to see me is because my voice is strong, and I look good naked.
“We can’t live on that,” I groan. “At least not legally.”
A soft tap at the door makes me jump, and I hope so much it’s Mark. I can tell him what happened, and maybe he can help me figure out this mess. Maybe Molly and I will run away with him, money be damned. Anything is better than this.
Gripping the doorknob, I sweep it open to the glittering green eyes of a monster.
Before me stands a tall man with ruddy hair and broad shoulders—and a grin that makes me shudder. Remember the cartoon of the fox once wearing a top hat and tails? The very hungry fox, intent on satisfaction? This man reminds me of that drawing, and I try to swing the door closed as quickly as I opened it.
He sticks out a foot and stops it.
“I was led to believe this is Molly’s room.” His voice is a smooth vibration and his eyes lock on mine. “Instead I’ve found our star. What are you doing back here?”
I flinch as he lifts his hand, but it passes my cheek and rests on the knot of his tie.
“What are you doing back here, is a better question.” All my muscles are tense, ready to fight. “Audience members aren’t allowed backstage.”
“Oh, little angel,” he chuckles. The light from our lamp glints off his large, gold pinky ring. “We both know that isn’t true.”
Terror has me by the throat. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice tight. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Perhaps not formally. My name is Guy.” His eyes drift down my body and then back to mine. “I’ve watched you for years, and your… talent is beautiful.”
I struggle to swallow the scream in my throat. “It’s very late. You’d better go.”
I try to close the door, but he puts a hand above mine and pushes it open wider, sending me staggering back into the screen. Molly lets out a little yelp as it falls, exposing her sitting on the floor.
“Guy,” she cries.
I step in front of her, but he smiles his evil fox-smile. “How lucky. I seem to have hit the jackpot.”
I’m going to be sick. “Roland is on his way here, and he… he’ll…” My mind is blanking in the middle of my lie.
“Roland is an arrogant little asshole. I’m not concerned with him.” Guy’s eyes fix on the button holding my robe closed over my naked body. I’m terrified at how vulnerable I am—we both are.
“You have to go.” I hate the tremor in my voice. It emphasizes my disadvantage.