Mark

“Who built that fucking thing?” Roland paces from Darby to where I’m sitting. “Who worked on it? I want to know which one of you imbeciles nearly killed her!”

My insides are humming, and I want to go back there and see her. I need to know she’s all right for myself. Instead, we’re all being held here to meet with Gavin.

“Calm down, Roland,” Darby growls. “Nobody wanted to hurt Lara.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want. I want to know which idiot I’m going to kill.”

My bandaged hands are clutched tight under my arms as I walk. My insides are shaking, and the panic of almost witnessing another death has my stomach in knots. As much as I tried to believe what happened to my uncle didn’t matter to me, I can’t deny the shock I’m feeling.

Terrence sits on a box staring at his fingernails while he smokes his third cigarette in a row. “What’s taking Gavin so fucking long,” he mutters under his breath.

“He’ll be here,” Roland says through tight lips as he lights his own cigarette.

I cut my eyes at him trying to understand his interest in Lara. Are they lovers? Their features are similar enough that they could be related. Only her bright blue eyes are different. I’m about to ask when a man dressed in a tuxedo and carrying a bouquet of roses strides in the middle of the group.

“Roland.” His voice is breathless. “There you are. What’s happening? Is Lara okay?”

The pianist’s expression changes. He actually smiles and holds out his hand. “Mr. Lovel, you’re here. She’s actually with the doctor now. They’ve given her pain medication, so I’m afraid you can’t see her.”

Straining my ears, I get the information I’ve been aching to know while we’ve been held back here. She’s okay. They’re taking care of her.

“I understand… I just—I have to return to Paris in the morning. I had hoped to let her know, to tell her I was worried, and to give her these.”

“I’ll make sure she gets them.” Roland takes the bouquet. “If you’ll come with me.”

He leads the rich guy away, and I lean against a concrete pillar.

“What? You didn’t think a girl like that would have a boyfriend?” Terrence squints up at me, and I straighten, clearing my throat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He only laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t go down that road, my friend. You’ll only get your ass handed to you.”

I’m about to argue when Gavin finally joins us. He goes straight to Darby.

“Any idea what went wrong?”

Our boss shakes his head. “I inspected the machinery myself this afternoon. Everything was working fine when we tested it after lunch.”

“So it just broke somehow?”

Darby shrugs. “I don’t know what else to say. It was working fine. We all went home after five and came back at seven. For two hours anything could have happened.”

“You’re saying you think someone tampered with it?” Roland is with us again, eyes flashing.

“I’m not accusing anyone of anything.” Darby’s gruff voice is solemn. “I’m only saying what happened.”

Gavin is quiet a moment. His hand is over his mouth, under his rust-colored mustache, which matches his ginger hair. He’s a stocky, well-dressed man, and he takes a few steps to the side.

Finally, he turns and makes a pronouncement. “Lara needs to recover. She can take a few days off. In the meantime, we’ll repair the damage and get that swing working for tomorrow night’s show. Use a different girl until Lara’s able to resume her role.”

Roland jumps in at that. “Another girl can’t sing my songs—”

“You’re not the one who gets to decide, are you?” Gavin’s eyes level on him, and the younger man backs down. “It was an accident. I’m glad she wasn’t hurt… now let’s make the best of this. We’re the talk of the Quarter. Make it count.”

My stomach turns at the idea he wants to capitalize on Lara’s near-death experience, but from what I understand this place runs on a deficit. I don’t understand why, since the audience is always full, and he isn’t spending much on salaries. I suspect mismanagement of funds, but I haven’t been here long enough to know anything.

“You!” I look up and realize Gavin is walking to me. “What’s your name?”

I stand a little straighter, putting us at eye level with one another. “Mark Fitzhugh.”

That stops him, his brow clutches and his pale eyes look me up and down. “Fitzhugh?” I watch as he thinks. “That’s an unusual name. You related to Rick?”

Unease tightens my chest. “He was my uncle.”

“Was?”

“He’s no longer—he passed away.”

Gavin’s gaze holds mine, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “I’m sorry.”

“We weren’t very close.”

A brief pause, and he continues. “Darby tells me you’re a dependable worker. How would you like a better job? Something inside, that requires more… confidence.”

The unease in my chest grows stronger. Everything I’ve seen about this place tells me to beware, especially since Gavin clearly knew my uncle. “I don’t mind construction.”

“What I’m offering will double your pay.”

“I don’t have time to spend what I make now.”

“It’s steady work. Not seasonal.”

I don’t understand what he means by seasonal. Hell, I don’t know what he means by requiring confidence, but my instincts tell me to be careful. I don’t want to arouse any suspicion I might have been involved in my uncle’s dealings.

I shove my hands in my pockets and look down at my boots. “I don’t know what my plans are just yet.”

His eyes narrow a moment, then he nods. “You think about it and get back to me. I’ll hold a place on Monday.”

He takes a step back, and Terrence nudges my arm. “You ready?”

I glance to the back passage one last time wishing I could see her. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

We slam out the back door and trudge down to the flagstone sidewalk. Terrence trots ahead with both hands in his pockets, but I take a slower pace, allowing my eyes to trace the side of the building, counting the windows and wondering which one might be hers. We take a quick right onto Royal, then we’re heading up Orleans in the direction of Bourbon Street and the Marigny.

“Stop in here for a drink.”

I glance up just in time to see him duck into a small bar with a flashing Jazz sign and a pair of legs swinging out. We go to the shiny wooden bar, and he slaps a twenty in between us. “Two car bombs straight up!”

I climb onto a red vinyl-covered stool and glance at the women in booths behind the bar. They’re wearing beaded bras and panties, and they’re twisting and shaking their hips and shoulders in time to the house music. Their expressions are bored, and my eyes return to my hands. My mind returns to what I saw tonight high above the stage floor. The most beautiful thing…

The drinks are shoved in front of us—two pints of Bass with whiskey shots on the side. Terrence raises his shot glass and drops it into the beer then lifts the whole thing to his mouth and shoots it, drinking for several seconds.

“Ahh!” he growls, slamming the pint onto the bar. “Now bring me a Guinness!”

I lift the whiskey and sip it. It burns my throat, but the heat eases the adrenaline still buzzing in my chest. Too many fucking flashbacks for one night.

“To the hero!” Terrence raises his pint and gives me a nod.

“I’m not a hero.” I finish off the whiskey and move to the pint. “I did what you’d have done. What we’re paid to do.”

My bandaged hand is around the pint of beer, and I wince when I remember the slice of the rope cutting into my palms.

“I would not have done what you did.” He shudders into his drink and mutters. “Fuck.”

I lean back, scowling at him. “You’d have let her fall? You’d have stood there and let her hit the stage without even trying to stop it?”

His lips poke out, and he takes a moment to light up. “I don’t know.”

“That’s more like it.” Leaning against the bar again, I take a drink. I’m leaning on my elbows, looking into the amber, but my vision is far away on her silky skin, her bright blue eyes, her shiny brown hair.

“Don’t fall in love with a stripper,” Terrence growls in my ear. “It will end. Badly.”

“What the fuck? I hardly even know her.”

“Shit. You’re already gone for her. Admit it!”

Shaking my head, I lift the pint glass and take a long pull. Then I slam it on the bar. “Thanks for the drink.”

I’m out the door and headed back to our place with him yelling after me not to be mad. Whatever. I don’t know how the fuck I expect to get inside. Terrence has the only key, but I’ll be damned if I sit there and let him ride me.

I’m still trying to figure my shit out. I’m not in love with anybody, and I’m not a hero. At least not yet. He’s full of shit when he says he wouldn’t have tried to catch her. He’d have grabbed the rope same as I did, or he’d have done something else.

I reach the apartment, and I sit on the stoop like he was the first night I came here. People are herding up and down Bourbon like always, like nothing ever changes and nothing happens outside this short strip of real estate.

Tonight I’m not being hounded by ghosts. I’m waiting for a bed, then I’ll get up and do it all again tomorrow.

* * *

Lara

When I open my eyes, it’s dark. My lamp is lit, and my breath catches at the sight of my nurse. Evie sits with her back leaned against the bedside holding one of Rosa’s books.

I haven’t seen her since her birthday, and I’ve been so worried.

“Hey, she’s awake.” Her voice is warm, and her smile kind. It breaks my heart. “How are you feeling now?”

I ease myself into a sitting position. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Oh, since yesterday. Doc gave you more Vicodin for the pain and said you should sleep it off.”

I pull up the thin white tank I’m wearing to reveal a hideous purple and black band around my torso.

Evie gasps. “Oh, Lara!”

“Better than being dead, I guess,” I try to joke.

“Are you in pain?”

“Only when I move.” I lean gingerly against the pillows, trying to be still.

My old friend slides her fingers under my hand. With her other she pats the top of it. We’re quiet several minutes, and all I can think about is not asking where she’s been or what happened to her. She doesn’t meet my gaze, and I wonder if she knows what I’m thinking. A tap at the door breaks the silence, and Roland peeks his head in.

“How is she?” he whispers.

“Ask her yourself.” Evie stands and moves to the head of my bed.

He enters and kneels at my bedside. His hand goes where Evie’s had been around mine. “I could kill those apes… But I’m glad to see you’re awake. Moving around some?”

“As little as possible,” I say. “I’m really sore.”

He sits on the side of my bed. “I’ll never get the image of you falling out of my head. Jesus!”

I look at his hand holding mine.

“We’re investigating what happened,” he continues. “Darby insists they checked the mechanics and made sure it was working.” He pauses, and I watch his jaw clench. “He’s trying to imply someone might have tampered with it.”

My heart beats a little faster. “Tampered—like someone wanted to… hurt me?” I can’t even say the word kill.

Black eyes meet mine. “If he’s right, I’ll find out who and handle it.”

Closing my eyes, I remember the blood on Mark’s hands. “I’m so glad Mark was there.”

“The girls are all calling him a hero,” Evie says quickly. “They’re taking dibs on who’s going to help him change those bandages.”

“The girls are idiots,” Roland says. “They should save their tricks for men with money.”

“He was brave,” she insists. “He reached right out and grabbed that rope. It was flying by, and he just grabbed it. Shredded his hands, but he caught you.”

I shudder at the memory. “I need to thank him.”

“You need to take it easy,” Roland says. “Gavin expects you back in the saddle by Sunday, so you only have a few days to recover.”

“He’s going to make me do it again?” I try to sit up, but a sharp pain in my torso halts me. “I can’t go back up there. Not if someone’s trying to hurt me!”

Roland catches my shoulders. “Easy.”

“No one’s trying to hurt you,” Evie’s voice is soothing. “Mark said he’ll be at the top of the ladder every night you go on. Sounds like he’s committed.”

Commitment… I remember his words.

Still, my worried eyes find Roland’s, and he shrugs. “We’ll make it work.” He stands and then leans down to kiss my head. “Sleep.”

Evie follows him to the door and he stops. He speaks to her in a low voice, but I can only hear part of what he says.

“Will that work for you?” he asks. I watch Evie nod and look down.

“They’ll pay you extra for your silence,” he says.

She doesn’t look up at him. “If Gavin says it’s okay.”

Roland gently pats her cheek. “Gavin only cares about the money, not where you get it.”

Fear tightens my chest. Is it possible Roland is working with Gavin to pimp out Evie? Why would he do that? I thought he was on our side…

She shuts the door and walks back to where I lie. “Just you and me tonight,” she says, sitting and picking up her book. “Want me to read to you? This one’s a panty-melter!”

I try to smile, but my throat is tight.

“I think I’ll try and sleep if I’m actually being ordered to.” Then a flash of panic hits me. “Where’s Molly?”

“In the wings watching. Vanessa’s taking your place as the dark angel, and Molly’s convinced she’ll suck at it. I’m actually a little curious myself.”

I think about what Roland said, about Vanessa taking my place. “You don’t think…” But I shake my head. It’s a huge leap from disliking someone to trying to kill them.

Her green eyes flicker to mine. “Don’t think what?”

“I just…” I look down at my lap. “I think being cooped up in this theater makes people start imagining all kinds of sinister things.”

“The girls are bitchy,” she says, seeming to read my mind. “But I don’t think any of them are smart enough to sabotage Darby’s equipment. They’re certainly not strong enough.”

“You’re right.” I nod, sliding down into the blankets. “I’m glad you’re back. You left without saying goodbye, and I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

“I wasn’t given much time to say anything to anyone.” Her voice trails off and her eyes look past me at some memory.

I’m quiet a moment, but I have to know. “So you’re not dancing at all now?”

“No need for that.” She tries to laugh. “And Fiona’s glad to have me gone, I’m sure.”

I nod and study my hands. I’ve known Evie so long, I don’t want to make her feel ashamed, but I remember how proud she’d been to be a dancer. I wonder if she’ll leave now that her fate has changed. Now that she’s selling herself for money.

Our eyes meet, and she sees the question in mine. “He was an older man. He wasn’t very attractive, but his rooms were in the penthouse suite of the W… and he was gentle.”

“Oh, Evie.” I swallow the knot in my throat.

She stands and walks over to my makeup mirror, lifting the brushes and arranging the tubes of lipstick and eyeliners. “Don’t get all big eyed and scared. We all know what happens here. I could have found another job. I could have left this place.”

“You wanted to be a dancer.”

“But I wasn’t good enough to be legit.” She studies her reflection, lifting her chin. “Admit it. We’re attracted to the darkness, the tease and the thrill of what might happen. It’s why we stay.”

It’s not why I stay. I stay because I’m holding onto a promise. “I’m so sorry.”

She gives me a wink. “Well, don’t you worry about me. Roland’s found something that could be very enjoyable… and lucrative.”

I’m afraid to ask what, still, I know curiosity is in my eyes. She crosses the room to sit at the foot of my bed.

“He has these friends. They’re young, hot, and very wealthy, and they want to see me together.”

I realize even though I live in a strip club, I’m still the girl who grew up surrounded by nuns. “I don’t know what that means.”

Her cheeks flush, and she chews her lip. “I’m pretty new to the whole thing myself. I’m really not much more than a beard, but I know a good thing when I hear it.”

I realize I’m leaning forward and stop. “A beard? Wait… They’re gay? I don’t understand. Why do gay guys want you?”

“Well, for the most part, Roland says I’ll be Phillip’s date to major events. Phillip’s father is the leader of some mega-church, and he’s heavily involved in politics. Phillip doesn’t want to embarrass the man. Can you imagine?”

My head shakes slowly no. “So you won’t actually have sex with them?”

I’m holding onto the hope that Roland hasn’t betrayed us.

“I guess I’ll find out… But a girl can hope, right?”

I manage a smile as I slide down into the bed. I know some girls like to watch gay guys having sex. Looks like my friend Evie is one of them. “Then I guess this is a good thing?”

“Damn straight,” she laughs. “They’re rich, gay, and paying me to hang out with them. I win!”

Is this a win? I can’t help wondering for how long, and why? Why doesn’t she just go back to Podunk, Tennessee, and start over…

Okay, I know.

I understand the drive to be in this city, the hope that a break might come. Even when all around us is darkness and night, it’s the tiniest flicker of a promise, the smallest hope that it might happen.

The dream might come true.

Pulling the blanket over my shoulder, I close my eyes. “I hope it works out for you.”

I really do.

She picks up the book again and takes her seat at my bedside. As my eyes close, the danger of life in this place presses on my mind. The days are counting down until I return to the spotlight, the freshest face in the Pussycat Angels lineup, and once I’m there, it’ll be my turn to see what happens. Will Gavin keep his promise? Will he give me a pass from the sex trade in return for the increase in revenue from my performances? Will the demands of the bidders grow too loud? Will their offer of money exceed my earnings?

A long time passes before I drift into an anxious sleep, and when I open my eyes again much later Evie is gone. Molly is curled up beside me. Her head is beside mine on the pillow, and I curl with my arms around her. She whispers words in her sleep, and my eyes go to the enormous bouquet of red roses on my dresser.

I made the bargain to be here. I have no money, no family, nowhere to go. My fall might have bought me more time, but it’s only borrowed time.

I can’t escape why I’m here. I can only find an insurance policy in case I fail.