“Just don’t get pregnant. And take better care with your valuables.” He exhales and turns to the door. “I came to speak to you about the little one. My brother finds her interesting.”
In that moment, I feel distinctly as if the hand of my worst nightmare has reached out from the darkness and grabbed me by the neck.
“He’s asking for her—” Gavin continues.
“No.” I forget all my fear. My eyes are clouded as I rush to the door and grab his arm. “What does he want?”
“It appears you know what he wants.” He looks down at my hand clutching his sleeve. “He wants her for himself.”
“He can’t have her!”
“She has no family, no talent, no education. It’s probably the only way she’ll ever make money.”
“She has me. I’m her family. And she doesn’t need to make money. She’s never cost you a dime.”
“That’s not the point.” He covers my hand, loosening my fingers. “Guy holds the deed to this place. He gets what he wants.”
My head is spinning, and for a moment I think I might collapse. Then I remember his words, what he said about watching me grow.
“He can have me. I’ll take her place.” It’s out so fast, I don’t have time to reconsider. I look down at my clenched fists.
“No,” Gavin says. “You’re too important to the show.”
“I won’t let him hurt her.”
Gavin presses his lips together in a tight line. We stand in a silent impasse, him in the doorway, me facing him down, fighting to pull air into my lungs.
“I’ll hold him off a little longer,” he finally says. “Perhaps he’ll lose interest.”
I don’t speak as he turns to go. I can’t stop trembling. He stops before closing the door again. “I hope you like your gift. It was your mother’s favorite.”
Then he shuts the door, and I’m alone in the lamplight. After a few moments, I turn and slowly go to the table, my whole body tense. I lift the box he put there. Inside is a tiny bottle of what looks like perfume, and when I pull the stopper, my room fills with the scent of tea-roses and ocean air, the scent of my mother. I remember her dark hair, the soft folds of her cotton gown, being a tiny girl and pulling these things around me for comfort, for protection.
I close my eyes and sit in my chair, pulling my knees to my chest. My body shakes harder, and I hug my legs tighter as I rock back and forth, afraid of what’s coming.
17
“I broke my own heart loving you.”
Mark
The back lot is dark.
It’s chilly and drops of rain hit my face. I look up at the sky, but I can’t leave. My fists tighten and release, and I pace the dirty asphalt. I don’t like Gavin in Lara’s room. I don’t like what he might be saying to her, ordering her to do… and fuck, I’m pissed at losing our night together.
I look at the chunky stainless steel watch I got at the shop when I bought back her mother’s pen. Ten minutes. I reach for the handle, ready to face the consequences and storm back in there, when it pushes into my fist.
Gavin steps out into the darkness. “Figured I’d find you here.” His voice is a growl, and he shoves a square slip of paper in my hand. “Take that to the Walgreens on Magazine Street. Tell the doc it’s a standing order.”
“But…” I look down at the paper. Narcan is written on it, and some physician signed it. I can’t tell if it’s real or a forgery. “There’s no name on this.”
He steps closer, speaking through clenched teeth. “That’s why you go to the fucking Walgreens on fucking Magazine Street. What the fuck have I said about you questioning me?”
My jaw tightens. This asshole has given me close to five thousand dollars in the past week alone. Half of it went to clothes. A little bit went to gas and the hotel in Union City, but enough is left over to keep me on the line. If I have a few thousand coming in every week, it’ll be enough for me to keep my promise to Lara and even include Molly in the process.
I back down. “When do you need it?”
His shoulders relax along with his voice. “I want it in my hands first thing in the morning. We have the situation under control for tonight.”
I know he’s talking about Tanya. I know what I saw, and if she was already shooting up, her situation is progressing fast.
“It’s late, but I’ll go there before I go home.”
“You have a car?”
“I’ll catch the streetcar.”
“Better get going.”
He stands in front of the door with his arms crossed, and I’m pretty sure this errand is as much about getting me out of here as it is getting what he needs to revive Tanya when she overdoses.
Shoving the paper in my pocket, I start walking south toward Canal. I’m two steps away when he stops me.
“If you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands off Lara.”
I look up over my shoulder. His expression isn’t cruel or menacing, and I’m sure he’s trying to give me good advice like Terrence did my first day.
“I’ve never been very smart.”
The rain is picking up, and I keep moving.
Lara
Like a giant wheel, our week begins again with stale breakfast, never enough, rehearsals until we dance in our dreams, costume adjustments, set repairs, and then back to bed to sleep until it all begins again.
Mark finds me in the wings, where I watch as Fiona works with the dancers. One look, and I’m in his arms. It hurts so much, I can’t push him away. We’re behind the heavy, dark curtains, and our times here making love are like muscle memory. His tongue finds mine, and he kisses me long and hungrily, warm breath whispering across my cheek, strong hands lifting me against the hardness in his jeans. I slide my fingers into his soft hair, but this time I’m wearing yoga pants not a skirt, my panties firmly in place.
“I miss you so much,” he says beside my ear, and despite my panic and fear, I cling to him, battling tears as he kisses my cheek then my lips again. “Maybe we can try tonight?” Then he sees my expression. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
It rips at my heart to let him go, but I steel myself. “I can’t. I have to stick to my plans with Freddie.”
“Why are you saying this now? What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. I made a promise, and I have to keep it.”
“No, you don’t.”
I nod, swallowing the pain in my throat. “It’s my fault Molly’s here. She’s in danger because of me—”
“She’s not a puppy, Lara.”
“I never said she was.”
“Yet you dedicate yourself to her as if…” he pauses, looking for the right word.
“As if I were her mother?”
“Yes.”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” I turn and go to the door leading to the backstage passage. My hand is on the handle just as his finds my waist and arm. He pulls my back against his warm body, and my insides melt.
“Wait,” he says. “Don’t go yet.”
“It’s better if I do.”
“But what about us?” He presses his face into my hair. “Don’t we matter?”
“I could never forgive myself…” My voice fades, but the truth remains.
I could walk away and leave her behind to face whatever fate awaits her… And I’d never be happy as long as I lived.
His grip relaxes, and he steps back, releasing me. “So you’re determined to end it.”