“Thank you,” I cut him off, anger flaring at his words. “For the drugs.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He’s pretending not to know, but I don’t care to question why. “I need you to take Tanya’s place. Will you do it?”
“Why should I?”
“You’ll be the star.” His eyes flicker to the dressing table. “It’s what you always wanted.”
I no longer care about being the star in hell, but walking slowly to the small table, I lift the brass pen still sitting on top. He told me to be careful with my valuables. He recognized this piece as belonging to my mother. How much loyalty do I owe to him?
He did stop what was happening last night…
The noise of footsteps jogging up the passage interrupts us, and when I look up, Mark stands in the doorway. My fears diminish, and my eyes heat. The mere presence of him in this room gives me the strength I need.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Gavin shouts at him. “I’m out of Narcan. I need you to get more fast.” He holds out a brass clip of cash.
My eyes are still on Mark’s, and he pushes past Gavin’s hand.
“Are you okay?” Mark’s voice is warm, and he puts both hands on my waist. “Have you found her?”
“I think she’s still with Evie,” my voice is soft. “I need to find my phone.”
He pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to me. I step forward and wrap my arm around his waist, my head against his chest.
“Well?” Gavin’s voice is insistent. “What’s it going to be?”
Roland’s back in the room. “Where’s the—”
“Mark’s just leaving to get more.” He extends his hand again, the brass clip tucked inside.
“You’ll have to take my car.” He gives Mark the keys.
“Lara?” Mark is waiting, and I nod.
“Go. Help her if you can. I’ll do this one last time.”
“I’ll be back before the climb.” With one last hand squeeze, he’s gone.
“I don’t know any of her dances.” My eyes go to Roland’s.
“We can do the new songs,” he says. “You can do it like a concert. Wear her costumes.”
“She lost so much weight, I don’t know if they’ll fit me.”
“Work out the details,” Gavin snaps. “I’ll take care of the front.”
21
“I broke my own heart loving you.”
Mark
Anxiety twists in my gut as I race through the wet streets.
Tanya was on the floor of her dressing room when I left. Rosa had given her one dose, but it wasn’t working. She told me to get two more. My chest is heavy with the idea Tanya’s life is in my hands, but truthfully, my main focus is Lara’s safety.
Roland says Guy is sedated, and Lara will be onstage performing. She should be safe while I make this short trip, but fuck it. I don’t like her there alone.
Every muscle in my body is tense, and pain radiates through my fists when I tighten them on the wheel of Roland’s Fiat. I should probably have my wrists wrapped as well as my hands. I beat on that metal door a good fifteen minutes last night before breaking the glass.
The light turns, and I punch the accelerator. The rain has stopped, but the streets are still wet, and the tires skid on the slippery asphalt. A quick glance at the clock tells me eight minutes have passed.
I throw it in park when I reach the store and push my way to the pharmacy counter. A man with gray streaks in his dark hair sees me and moves quickly, bagging the syringes and handing them over as I pass him three hundred dollars. We don’t even bother with receipts. He knows the look in my eyes.
I’m in the car racing back to the theater in less than two minutes. Skidding into the parking lot, I throw the door shut and sprint up the back steps and down the narrow hallway to the dressing rooms.
“Give it to me,” Rosa says, and I pass her the bag.
She pulls out the first box and assembles the syringe. Her hands tremble, but she moves slowly, calmly inserting the glass tube into the plastic syringe.
“Stay with me,” she murmurs as she works, and I see red handprints on Tanya’s face from where it appears Rosa slapped her, trying to keep her conscious.
Tanya’s red hair is frizzled around her face, and her skin is sallow. Her cheeks are sunken, and she looks like she weighs ninety pounds. She’s so small, she’s like an abandoned doll, left out in the rain.
It appears Rosa has what she needs, and I leave them in the dressing room hustling to the backstage area so I can be ready for the finale. I’ve missed most of the show, but from the sounds of the audience, Lara’s killing. In my heart, I hope she can enjoy it, but in my head I know she’s as anxious as I am about being here.
Making my way through the bodies, I accidentally bump into a woman standing in the wings. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, catching her by the waist.
She’s fully clothed, which means she isn’t performing, and when she turns, I recognize her face. “You’re Mark?” Her eyes are bright and she smiles. “I’m Evie. We met in the square a while back.”
“Evie,” I repeat. “You have Molly.”
That makes her laugh. “I had Molly. I left her in their room.”
As she speaks, I scan the backstage area frantically. Molly usually waits in the wings with the dancers, watching as Lara performs. I don’t see her, and I jog back toward the dressing room. I’m just at the door when the music changes. It’s time for the finale. I promised Lara, but I hesitate. She’d want to know Molly is safe.
I see one of the new guys leaning against a set piece watching the show. He’s smaller than I am, and his eyes are fixed on the topless dancers.
I grab him by the throat and push him up against the wall. “What’s your name?”
“Hey!” His eyes bug out, and he grabs at my fist while his feet dangle around my shins. “J-Jeffrey. My name’s Jeff.”
My fists throb, and I release him. He falls back, gasping and holding his neck. “Look at me,” His eyes snap up. They’re filled with fear, which is a good thing. “I need you to get to the top of that ladder, to the catwalk. You hold the safety rope as she descends.”
His eyes follow where I’m pointing and down, and he nods quickly. “I’ve seen her do it.”
My hand is on his throat again, and I back him against the wall. “If she falls, you die. If you look at her body, you die. If you touch her body, you die. Understand?”
Sounds like my new motto. His hands are on my wrist.
“I’ll be back. Now get up there.” I shove him toward the ladder and head through the door to the backstage area.
Running up the passage, I reach Lara’s dressing room. Sliding to a stop, I go inside, looking all around. I see the dressing gown, the pen, a small bag, Lara’s phone with a text on the face…
We’re here, the text from Evie reads.
No signs of Molly.
My pulse ticks higher, and I’m out the door again, headed for the stage with a bad feeling in my stomach. Pushing through the door, I make the entire run through the wings on both sides, catching dancers and asking if they’ve seen Molly.
Nothing.