My fingers were shaking when I picked up my eyeliner, and I had to blow out a slow breath so my hands could steady while I drew careful lines. A streak of pink eyeshadow and some highlighter, and when I looked back up, I almost felt like I’d pulled on armor.
This London was confident.
This London wasn’t confused.
This London hadn’t lay in the arms of a fucking psychopath and steadied himself to the beat of his heart like it was a lullaby I’d forgotten from childhood.
I stood, licking my lips and straightening my shoulders.ThisLondon knew his body, knew his strength and how much people wanted him…
I could be this London, even if it was just for now, just at night. Just while I was dancing.
For a while, I could lose myself to music and movement, and nothing else needed to matter.
It was a comforting thought when I went onto the stage, when the thrumming, slow beat of my first song came on and my body went loose. I couldfeeleyes on me, and I lost myself to that sensation as I started to move. I didn’tlikeattention most of the time, but I loved it when I was dancing.
When I danced, I felt free… and apparently it translated, because there were very few nights that I didn’t get tips, and even less when I didn’t get requests for more dances.
I needed that now more than ever if I was going to get out of my apartment, so I let my vision go hazy and focused on my body, focused on the thrum of music.
And for some reason, as I twisted myself carefully around the pole and the vibrations of the speakers tickled against my skin… I thought of Otto.
I thought of the way his fingers felt tight in my hair… the way his hot breath on my neck made tears prickle in my eyes while he whispered how he was going to hurt me.
The way he’d looked down at me when he picked me up and carried me out of the building while the sound of gunshots and screaming rained down around us.
I thought of Otto, and a low sound ripped from my chest. My body rocked against the pole, not losing its rhythm. By the waypeople were waving cash at me to lure me across the stage, I’d done the exact opposite of fucking up.
And even though I moved toward them, for some reason, all I could see was his green eyes, all I could feel were dangerous fingers digging into my skin, a hard body pressed against me, and I—
“Fuck,” I murmured as soon as the music ended. My heart was thundering, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion I’d put into my set or the thoughts that were tearing across my body—memories that felt like they were deeper than they had any right to be when I was still trying to convince myself that they weren’t even real.
Like what Otto had said was true… like I’d known him in another life.
I shook the thought from my mind—it was crazy. Even though I’d seen the man in the cell with me completely shift. His eyes had changed colors. His personality was different… but…
No.
Hewas crazy. And I had to focus. I pulled on my robe and shuffled off the stage as the next set of music started and Gemini came on behind me. I knew all the dancers by name, and Gem was one of my favorites.
Once I was out of the way, my eyes flicked to Til, who jerked his head to the corner booth of the room—sometimes after we finished a set, a particularly high-paying client would slip him some cash for a private dance. It was always someone who’d been coming to the club for a long time, always someone Til trusted. It was someone who had lots of money and thought they were important enough for a little one-on-one time.
We weren’t expected todoanything but get them riled up enough that they might spend a little extra time in their private room after we were finished—Til made sure we were all taken care of, that we were all safe.
And he did his best to make sure we all made extra money wherever we could. I think he knew we were all a little broken.
I was more than sure that if any of us screamed from those back rooms, he’d probably come in himself with the gun I knew he kept behind the counter.
I feltsafe.
Or… I should have felt safe as I made my way over to the man. He was a repeat customer. Some lonely guy who never took his wedding ring off and always kept his hands politely on my waist while I danced for him. He’d told me before that watching me made it easy for him tonotcheat on his wife.
I wanted to tell him there was more than one way to cheat, but at the end of the day, a cheater’s money spent just the same as an honest person’s… and Ineededthat money.
“You looked great tonight, London.” He was slow and telegraphed when he raised his hand, and I let him brush his fingertips across my bare arms. It never had before, but that touch burned across my skin like hot iron, and I almost drew back.
I forced a smile instead and leaned in.
“Thanks, Mr. Caulson.” I bit my lower lip, forcing myself not to squirm in discomfort. Something was weird.
